I didn't find Lucrezia Borgia (as written) a compelling character. She came across as vain, naive, and shallow. Plaidy made much of the strong bonds among the Borgia children and their father Pope Alexander which was to excuse the excesses they engaged in and forgiveness among them for unforgivable acts even against each other. I bought the premise of the dysfunctional family and didn't judge the beliefs, mores, and traditions of a squabbling batch of city states in Italy, so different from our own time. But I didn't find the story or characters engaging even from a "can't keep your eyes off a train wreck" angle. I found myself skimming just to complete the book and check it off my list. I did give the author credit for her research and straightforward writing. ( )

I thoroughly enjoyed Plaidy's earlier look at the life of the infamous but possibly unfairly maligned Lucrezia Borgia, Madonna of the Seven Hills, in which Plaidy neatly focused, not on the most infamous rumors and legends about this woman and her family, but on how those nasty tales might have gotten started. This is a nice distinction, maybe -- you can't talk effectively about rumors without mentioning their content, at least in passing, after all -- but one that Plaidy is a master of making, and making into satisfying novels.

Which is why I love her, and, as I mentioned when writing about The Scarlet Contessa, a book set in pretty much the same time and place as Plaidy's Borgia books, wish she'd taken up Caterina Sforza as a subject at some point. Oh, what a glorious book that would have been!

La Sforza does make an appearance in Light on Lucrezia. the sequel to Madonna of the Seven Hills, but only for a few pages: a swift depiction of her resistance to Cesare's military onslaught and her famously rapey personal encounter with the man after he won the battle. How Plaidy could convey this account and then pass over the notion of writing a book about Caterina will always be a mystery to me. If I'm wrong about this, and she did write about Caterina in more detail under one of her many, many pseudonyms, please, for all love, enlighten me.

But enough about the Lady of Forli; this book is about Lucrezia, picking up exactly after the previous book with the apprehensive coming of the second of her three husbands, Alfonso, illegitimate son of the king of Naples, to Rome. Plaidy protrays this marriage as utterly idyllic, marred only by what every relationship in Lucrezia's life seems to have been marred: the jealousy of the odious Cesare. Every page devoted to this marriage -- and there really aren't many of them -- foreshadows the poor Alfonso's inevitable fate, so when it comes, the reader yawns a bit. And yawns a bit further when Lucrezia predictably chooses to stick by her evil brother, whom she has been conditioned to worship and seek to please since birth.

The rest of the novel focuses on Lucrezia's third marriage, to another Alfonso, this one the heir to the Duke of Ferrara -- which is to say that things pick up from here. Ferrara is ruled by an ancient line of haughty, snotty aristocrats, the Estes (who trace their lineage to times before the Carolingians ruled a good chunk of Europe), who resent that their bloodline will now bear the taint of Borgia ancestry, too, if Lucrezia does her job and makes Este babies. Which is to say that Lucrezia is thrown into a den of vipers, with the chief she-snake being her sister-in-law, Isabella, Marquesa of Mantua, who has long regarded herself the prettiest, most stylish, most accomplished woman in Italy and so sees Lucrezia as a rival to be humiliated at every opportunity. Hilariously, the passive and pliant Lucrezia's non-reaction to Isabella's ploys (and those of Isabella's own sister-in-law, Elisabetta Gonzaga) is precisely the best way to keep her would-be rival at the height of annoyance.

As Lucrezia's domestic troubles take center stage, at last the figures of her father Rodrigo (Pope Alexander VI) and brother Cesare the Fratricide, fade into the background. This may be why a lot of readers have complained that this second Borgia novel is dull compared to the first; it lacks the dramatic focus the first book, devoted almost wholly to foreshadowing the murder of Giovanni Borgia by Cesare, had. But really? It's all in the title: Light on Lucrezia. Finally, Lucrezia Borgia is the heroine of her own life, or at least as much of one as a Renaissance Pope's only (acknowledged) daughter can be. Which is to say that the modern reader spends a lot of these books wanting to slap Lucrezia and tell her to take some control and set some boundaries, but yeah...

La Borgia's reputation seems to have been on the mend in my lifetime, and I wonder if Plaidy's books might not have helped get this started. For my part, I find her portrait of a passive people pleaser annoying but having the ring of truth to it. A pretty little girl with such monstrous relatives might well just teach herself not to see them as they were as long as they kept her in nice dresses and poets and behaved themselves when she was around, especially in a society that still exercised mighty energies to keep women in their places (the odd amazing virago like Caterina Sforza or Isabella d'Este notwithstanding; some people just don't follow the rules, no matter when they're born), and I find the idea that Lucrezia was such a one far more plausible than that she was a monstrous female Cesare, whoring and poisoning her way across Italy out of ego, malice and desire for power.

So yeah, Holliday Granger played her just right. ( )

The novel opens in 1498 when eighteen-year-old Lucrezia is about to be married for a second time.

As with the previous book, the core of the story is Lucrezia’s relationship with her father – Pope Alexander VI – and her brother Cesare, only this time the mighty Borgias are seen in decline.

Cesare is arguably the best-drawn character. He, his charismatic father, and the beautiful Sanchia are my favourite characters, though the former two are far from likable as people.

The characterization is generally is very good, as is the imagery, but it’s not enough to save this somewhat bland novel, based on fascinating events, written by a talented author who’s not made use of the potential available to create something special.

This book, like the first one, did not prove to be very engaging. At times I was losing concentration, owing to the lack of action, too much incidental detail, and a slow-paced narrative.

There’s also one stupid line in the book, namely: “I am Lucrezia Borgia,” said Lucrezia.

Why a talented author like Ms Plaidy needs to add ‘said Lucrezia’ to the above dialogue is beyond me. I’m sure readers of all levels of intelligence will work out which character is speaking.

A disappointing read. ( )

http://shelfandstuff.blogspot.com/2011/06/light-on-lucrezia-by-jean-plaidy.html ( )

I picked this up at the town library in the "free" bin. I always seem to find unexpected treasures there. The author might be better known to some as Victoria Holt. Although this is historical fiction, it seems that Ms. Plaidy/Holt has done some research and treats Lucrezia Borgia with sympathy and understanding. She does however leave it vague as to the question of incest between Lucrezia and her brother and father (who was also a Pope). History itself is questionable on the facts of Lucrezia's life and family. I am about 2/3 of the way through the book now and will have some more comments when I finish. This book was old and falling apart when I picked it up at the library--one of those old paperbacks with the crisp glue in the binding. So as I finish each yellowed page, I rip it and add it to my worm compost. I figured that even if the book turns out to be a waste of my time, at least it will make its journey back to the earth. ( )