With her latest novel “The Marriage Portrait” Maggie O'Farrell proves that she's one of the finest historical novelists working today. The basis of her inspiration comes from using that classic trick of plucking a semi-obscure figure from the distant past along with a bit of gossip to conjure a tale from between the pages of history. The subject is Lucrezia de' Medici, a noble daughter from Florence who was married to Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara in 1558 when she was only thirteen. A year later she died from what was labelled as “putrid fever” but it was rumoured that she had been murdered by Alfonso. Although this new novel is set in the mid-1500s (only a few decades prior to her previous novel “Hamnet”) the stories are worlds apart. We follow Lucrezia's life as she is born into a busy privileged Italian household and ostracised for being the strange daughter of the family. O'Farrell imaginatively transports readers to this era with sumptuous, lavish, gorgeously-rendered detail of palace life with its many ornate rooms and hidden corridors, trysts and shady dealings and a menagerie of exotic animals kept for Cosimo, the Duke of Tuscany's amusement. When Lucrezia ventures into the depths of the palace to spy upon her father's new acquisition of a tigress she feels a momentary connection with this wild beautiful animal that stirs her spirit.
The narrative alternates between the story of her upbringing and her time at the remote “hunting lodge” of her husband Alfonso when Lucrezia is suddenly convinced “that he intends to kill her.” Is this true? Is she delirious from illness? Is she paranoid? Is there any way she can survive? These questions remain tantalizingly suspended throughout the story until the exhilarating and clever climax. There are so many compelling characters: vain sisters, bratty brothers, a wise nursemaid, seductive suitors, mysterious artists and scheming friends. As heads of the family, Eleanora and her husband Cosimo provide a model example of rulers of the region in their productivity and determination to educate all their children – both the boys and girls. However, their great flaw is underestimating their daughter Lucrezia. Here she is placed at the centre of the novel as the consummate outsider and forgotten child whose artistic talent leaves her teachers in awe. Though this position naturally makes her somewhat lonely, it's also advantageous as she can see the workings of things more clearly from a distance. Lucrezia's keen skills of observation and ability to discern power dynamics serves her well. She probably would have remained sidelined by her siblings if her elder sister Maria hadn't died from illness which means Lucrezia is ushered to take her place in marrying Alfonso.
I felt so drawn into the dynamics of palace life. O'Farrell is very skilful at evoking this period as well as creating a mystery around Alfonso who comes across as so charming but secretive. It's a tribute to the author's ability that she can build such a strong sense of hope while also making readers dread an impending doom. I was kept in suspense throughout while being spellbound by the heady experience of Lucrezia's wealthy but cloistered life. What's especially intriguing about this historical novel is the way the author allows you to see how things could have played out so differently if fate had blown in a different direction. If Maria hadn't died from disease and married Alfonso her outcome would have been very different from Lucrezia's. If Alfonso hadn't been so ruthless in his desire to produce an heir and allowed Lucrezia to become his equal partner, they could have ruled in as harmonious a way as Lucrezia's parents. O'Farrell shows how certain events dictate history, but they don't determine the future. And through the inspiring conclusion she establishes an ingenious way for us to re-view the past.
