“Florence: a jumble of grand palazzos and humble hovels, bustling marketplaces and quiet piazzas, churches and workshops, all elbowing one another for room. Above them loomed the Duomo, terracotta bricks divided into vertical segments by columns of pale stone, keeping a proud watch amid the plumes of smoke billowing from the city’s chimneys.”
This is a world where
courtesans hustle for business among the wealthy men at court, secrets are
round every corner, and the murder of a Jewish moneylender (Levi) barely raises
an eyebrow, until a ledger of unpaid debts is stolen, leading to the Duke to
make the Wildean quip, “The murder of one moneylender is bad for business. The
murder of two is bad for the whole city.” With practically his dying breath, Levi
forbids his daughter, Rebecca, from marrying his apprentice, Joshua. Another
body, found beaten to death, turns out to be a man dressed as a woman. Meanwhile
there is courtly intrigue as this is the time of the Medicis, when Alessandro,
Duke of Florence, murdered by his cousin, Lorenzino de’ Medici, was succeeded
by Cosimo de’ Medici. “Killings in Florence were not infrequent and were
usually personal, fuelled by family, love, hate or greed.” With multiple plots,
subplots, and frequent switches between character and locations, the story is almost
deliciously Shakespearean.
Cesare Aldo is our unlikely hero, a former soldier, with a war-injured knee, now a member of the Otto di Guardia (the eight), the city’s most feared criminal court. While ruthless when required – “Cesare Aldo took no pleasure from killing, but sometimes it was necessary” – he has a (poorly kept) secret of his own. He is homosexual, a ‘crime’ punishable by death. Although historically, this sentence was rarely executed, it makes a sufficient plot point for his blackmailer to warn that if discovered, “you’ll be hung from the gates, your body set on fire, and your ashes hurled into the Arno. That’s what the likes of you deserve.” Several set pieces and action scenes bring the novel to life. Florence is “a labyrinth for those who didn’t know it well, The Duomo and the Arno were helpful landmarks, but often hidden from view among the narrow streets and close buildings.” The opening chapter contains a thrilling ambush, and the chase sequences are full of evocative detail.
“The approach to the bridge [Ponte Vecchio] was choked with sellers hawking poultry, fish and produce to potential buyers, all of them arguing about prices. The aroma of fresh bread filled Aldo’s nostrils as he passed a baker. In the next doorway three youths were playing dice, pushing and shoving at each other, shouting to be heard above the babble of voices. Ahead the bandit had to swerve around a trader holding live chickens high in the air, one in each fist, proclaiming their price a bargain. The birds clucked and protested, flapping their wings, feathers fluttering down.”
Other locations are also described
according to their geographical and historical features. The little village of Le
Casette owes its existence to its position beside an easy place to ford the
river Po. “The tallest building was the church with its bell tower, while the
coach house and stables stood across the dirt road from it. Salvation and God
on one side, drink and the potential for devilment on the other – it was often
the way.”
The explanations of the legal machinations incorporate daily reports being made, denunciations being filed, and the quality of justice being questioned. “Explaining a dead body to the Office of Decency was always a nightmare. The court’s officials turned a blind eye to most things, if their vision was clouded with enough coin. But a corpse was too much, even for the greediest of them.” One of the wealthy merchants, Landini, has a very modern right-wing viewpoint:
“For every moment of triumph, there was always an official ready to interfere. Florence had dozens of different courts overseeing every aspect of city life. Didn’t the guilds do enough to bring prosperity to the people? Well, not all the people, but certainly to those who deserved it. Anyone who couldn’t – or, more likely, wouldn’t – work could always go to church for alms. It was the way of things, and some things never changed.”
On the other hand, choices are important and no fate is inevitable. Doctor and love interest, Orvieto, tells his patient, Aldo, “Doesn’t matter how often I tell you to rest; what happens next depends on you. It’s the same with this conspiracy. You can warn those in danger, but they must decide how to respond.” Aldo has his own views on jeopardy. “There was no prudence in avoiding danger, because danger always came. Better to calculate the risk and act decisively.”
The author cannot disguise his
political or religious views, literally repeating himself. Early in the novel Aldo
remarks, “Changing the minds of those with faith was almost always a lost
cause.” Later, as he questions whether so many churches are necessary in
Bologna when the coin could be better spent helping the needy, the constable,
Strocchi, is uncomfortable with this reasoning. “Aldo chided himself for
breaking his own rule: never argue with men of true faith, as changing their
minds was almost always a lost cause.” Fearing Aldo is on a revenge mission, Strocchi
warns, “You might be able to kill a man in his bed, I can’t. It is for God to
take a life.”
Bishop animates this time and
place with fictional features based on fact. Aldo explains to Cosimo, “Myths
are stories told many times. The truth is usually still inside them.” This is
the first in a series featuring Cesare Aldo and the city of Florence, and I
would be happy to read more about both.
