I was so Gullible back when I thought that History was about Truth. How jolting it was to discover that IT was ALL about Agenda, and Prejudices.

What is the need for Fiction, when so much of History IS Fiction???

Now everything that Ms. Bradford has to say about Lucrezia Borgia may have great merit, but it erodes ones confidence when the author:
1. "tackles her story, determined to overturn centuries of bad press for the villainess" . When you start with a conclusion and then work only toward proving it.
2. "emphasiz(es) that young Lucrezia was raised in a world rife with Machiavellian maneuverings, as if that was existent only in 15th century Italy, rather than throughout millenniums of history, and throughout the world.
3. "sexual intrigue and vendettas were an accepted fact of everyday life", AS IF this originatedin 15th century Italy.
4. had access to new research and even long-secret files
5. yet " is quick to point out that there's little concrete evidence to support (her) claims", which does not slow her speculations a scintilla!

All which does not detract from colorful salacious reading. :)

San Francisco Chronicle
Andrea Hoag
Sunday, December 19, 2004

Lucrezia Borgia Life, Love and Death in Renaissance Italy
By Sarah Bradford VIKING; 421 PAGES; $27.95

Lucrezia Borgia is long overdue for a makeover -- six centuries overdue, to be exact. Born the illegitimate daughter of Pope Alexander VI and married off by the time she was 13, the 15th century temptress has been synonymous in the history books with murder, incest and High Renaissance papal intrigue. But was Lucrezia the woman truly as notorious as Lucrezia the myth?

British author Sarah Bradford tackles her story, determined to overturn centuries of bad press for the villainess, emphasizing that young Lucrezia was raised in a world rife with Machiavellian maneuverings. Rome in the rinascimento was a place where sexual intrigue and vendettas were an accepted fact of everyday life, where children were frequently betrothed in marriage while still in the womb.

Therefore it was not so unusual for Pope Alexander to marry his barely teenage daughter to the well-connected Giovanni Sforza, only to dissolve the union as soon as it no longer advanced his political interests. His reason for the church-sanctioned split? He claimed Lucrezia's husband was impotent. Eager to defend his sexual prowess, the spurned Sforza was the man responsible for starting the Borgia incest rumors; he insisted that the real motive behind the divorce was the lusty pontiff's desire to keep Lucrezia all to himself.

Bradford is quick to point out that there's little concrete evidence to support this claim, but still, the biographer proves she can dish with the best of them when necessary. Even as she's denying some of the more salacious rumors clinging to Lucrezia's legend, she faithfully includes the deliciously slanderous bits she stumbled across in her research. (One chronicler wrote that the pope's daughter was "the greatest whore there ever was in Rome," which would have been no small feat considering the number of courtesans in the city.) And when Lucrezia's second husband met with a violent end, many blamed her for the murder, though it was more likely attributable to her scheming brother, Cesare.

Still, a nagging question may begin to plague readers: Was Lucrezia only a mere pawn in an increasingly bloody game of chess, as Bradford would have us believe? The author insists that Lucrezia came into her own as a political dynamo only when she married her third husband, Alfonso d'Este, assuming the title Duchess of Ferrara. Far away from the Roman imbroglios of the troubled Borgia clan, Lucrezia became a doting mother, patron of the arts and, most notably, protector of Ferrara's Jewish citizens.

In a biography that reads with all the swift intrigue of a novel, Bradford touches upon Lucrezia's court rivalries with women, including her long-standing competition with her sister-in-law, Isabella d'Este, but reserves far more of the narrative for her subject's amorous liaisons. In this regard, Lucrezia the subject delivers more than ample fodder for her enthusiastic biographer.

After charming Ludovico Ariosto with her legendary beauty, Lucrezia won herself a role in the author's epic poem "Orlando Furioso" before securing the love of Pietro Bembo, another great Renaissance poet who sang the praises of the duchess. (" 'If during this period you chance to find your ears are ringing it will be because I am ... writing pages about you that will still be read a century after we are gone.' ")

Bradford shrinks from speculating about the true nature of the relationship between Lucrezia and Bembo, insisting that it's possible their romance was in the tradition of courtly -- not carnal -- love. Whatever their bond, the emphasis Bradford places on their friendship proves that the poet's longing missives achieved their desired effect on both their original recipient and her 21st century biographer.

But Bembo was hardly the last in a long line of Lucrezia's illustrious loves. She began a dangerous connection with her brother-in-law, the notorious womanizer Francesco Gonzaga, husband of the loathed Isabella. All of these romantic imbroglios must have served as a pleasant distraction for Lucrezia; when she wasn't shuttling to her country house to avoid the plague, she suffered from being nearly perpetually pregnant from the time she married d'Este until her death.

If Lucrezia's troubled pregnancies are heart wrenching, they offer modern readers an unexpected account of medicine in the cinquecento, particularly in the area of obstetrical care. Though attended by some of the most learned doctors in Renaissance Italy, she was still treated with largely medieval techniques and suffered several difficult deliveries, miscarriages and stillbirths before experiencing the tragedy that ultimately claimed her life at the age of 39.

The chief triumph of "Lucrezia Borgia," however, is the sheer magnitude of new research involved in the work; the author used private letters, diaries and even long-secret Vatican files, lending the portrait a tone far more credible than the sensationalized work of previous biographies. This new approach toward the life of a misunderstood woman proves that even long- despised historical figures can be rendered heroines in the end.

Andrea Hoag is a writer and Italian translator in Lawrence, Kan.
 
 

15th century temptress just had bad press
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/
chronicle/a/2004/12/19/RVGRPA9OHH1.DTL&type=printable