The Crown, by Nancy Bilyeau

I didn’t enter any historical fiction reading challenges this year, and consequently, the amount of historical fiction in my TBR pile has significantly declined from last year. The Crown, by Nancy Bilyeau is the first historical novel I’ve read, and I’m certainly glad I didn’t pass it up! It’s a historical whodunit that belongs right up there with Ellis Peters’ Brother Cadfael books and Lindsey Davis’ Falco novels–and if you know my penchant for Peters and Davis, that’s high praise indeed.

Set during the reign of Henry VIII of England, The Crown follows the story of Joanna Stafford, a novice at Dartford Priory. In an era when the monasteries are being dissolved to satisfy the king’s cupidity, it is an unfortunate time to be taking holy orders. When Joanna breaks the rule of enclosure to travel to see the execution of her cousin Margaret, she runs afoul of the authorities and is imprisoned, along with her father, in the Tower of London. The Bishop of Winchester agrees to let her return to Dartford on one condition: she must search for and find the ancient crown of Athelstan which is rumored to be hidden there. Her father will stay a prisoner to ensure that she accomplishes her mission.

Bilyeau paints a rich world of religious life in Tudor England and surrounds Joanna with memorable characters–a chivalrous constable, a tormented friar, a hard-nosed prioress, an ambitious prelate. The past life of the protagonist unfolds tantalizingly throughout the course of the novel, always making you want to know more about her. After a murder takes place in the priory, the story intensifies to the point that the book is impossible to set down. I stayed up far too late finishing this book, and the ending did not disappoint! All in all, The Crown is a superb debut novel, and I look forward to reading whatever else Nancy Bilyeau publishes in the future.

Alexandria & Nemesis, by Lindsey Davis

I’ve been putting off writing this post for quite some time because it marks a monumentally sad occasion. I have finished the Marcus Didius Falco series by Lindsey Davis–all twenty books. There are no more. Ms. Davis recalcitrantly refuses to add any more to the Falco canon–but then I suppose it is the author’s prerogative to tire of a hero, even one as infinitely charming and cheeky as Marcus Didius Falco. At least she doesn’t go so far as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and kill off her dashing detective just to ensure that there can be no more sequels…or does she? You’ll have to read the final book to find out the answer to that question.

Alexandria occurs in the city of that name in Northern Africa renowned for its Lighthouse and its Great Library. When Marcus and family come to visit his odd old uncle Fulvius, they entertain the head librarian for dinner. The next morning the librarian is found dead in his study, and an illegal autopsy confirms that poison is the culprit. As the chief scholars of Alexandria jockey for position to become the next librarian, Marcus begins an investigation that leads him to stolen scrolls, man-eating lions, and power-hungry pedagogues.

In Nemesis, the final book in the Falco series, a family of Imperial freedmen living in swamps to the south of Rome are terrorizing the populace…and have been for years. When Marcus is called in to investigate the deaths of two of their neighbors, he discovers that some powerful official in Rome has been shielding them from punishment. This sets the stage for the final showdown between Falco and his nemesis, the Chief Spy Anacrites. The ending is a little bit shocking to modern sensibilities, but it sorts well with the harsher, less humane age in which Falco lived.

The Falco series is over, but to console myself I’ve picked up two more Lindsey Davis books from the library. The Course of Honor is set during the same time period as her Falco novels and focuses on the life of Vespasian. Rebels and Traitors deals with her “real” period of specialty, the English Civil War and the Commonwealth. Expect reviews from these in the near future after I’ve finished my time of mourning for the books that have passed away.

See Delphi and Die & Saturnalia, by Lindsey Davis

Having fully indulged her hostility toward building contractors, lawyers, and newspapermen in the previous books, Lindsey Davis now takes the opportunity in See Delphi and Die to lampoon the travel industry. While Aulus, Helena Justina’s stuffy younger brother, is traveling to Athens to study law, he runs across a suspicious death in the city of Olympia. A young woman, recently married and on a honeymoon travel tour, is found battered to death outside a gymnasium. Aulus befriends the bereaved groom and, having learned a few detecting skills from his brother-in-law Marcus, takes an interest in the affair. Concerned that Aulus will never commence his education in Athens, Helena’s mother insists on Marcus heading to Olympia to investigate the case. Helena Justina has always wanted to tour Greece and see some of the wonders of the world, so the whole family goes along, complete with two unruly infants, two rapscallion nephews, their teenage foster daughter, and the son of Marcus’ personal trainer.

The Falco entourage joins up with the ill-fated tourists at Olympia where it is an off-year for the Olympic games. Marcus interviews each member of the tour and their smooth-talking guide, trying to uncover the perpetrator of the crime. He is unable to solve the mystery in Olympia, however, and must travel alongside the “Tracks and Temples” tour through more Greek cities–and more murders–until he can catch the killer. Corinth, Delphi, and Athens all enjoy a visit from the Falco family, and Lindsey Davis enlightens us on the shady practices associated with the Greek oracles.

Saturnalia sees the Falco family back in Rome in time for the holidays. Marcus is called in by the emperor’s minions to solve a political debacle  wherein the Germanic priestess Veleda has escaped from custody (after allegedly beheading a man) and is hiding somewhere in the city of Rome. This is the same Veleda that Helena’s brother Justinus took a shine too back in The Iron Hand of Mars when he ascended her tower and convinced her to free Falco and the other Roman soldiers. Marcus must not only apprehend Veleda before the end of the year, but he must do it in such a way that he protects Justinus from becoming an accessory to her escape.

In Saturnalia Lindsey Davis sheds light on the ancient practices of medicine and surgery. Four different schools of Roman physicians are represented, all doctors attending the hypochondriacal house where Veleda was being held. Marcus is the prototypical Roman Scrooge during Saturnalia, the “Season of Misrule” in Rome, and cannot wait for the holiday–and his case–to come to an end.

The Accusers & Scandal Takes a Holiday, by Lindsey Davis

I rarely give a book five stars. According to Goodreads terminology:

• one star – “didn’t like it”
• two stars – “it was ok”
• three stars – “liked it”
• four stars – “really liked it”
• five stars – “it was amazing”

Frankly, there just aren’t that many books where you think, “That was amazing!” when you finish it. I usually give Lindsey Davis books a four star rating on Goodreads, but today I’m going to have to make an exception for The Accusers.

This book was fabulous! Well-paced and well-plotted, it had me on the edge of seat till almost the very end as I waited for Marcus Didius Falco to solve the senator’s suicide/murder and discover what nefarious secret the family is trying to cover up. The name of the book comes from the role played by the two lawyers, former “accusers” during Nero’s reign. In order to stand up to their legal machinations, Falco is forced to become a lawyer himself. As well as providing an enthralling mystery, this book also gives a thorough picture of the Roman legal system and inheritance laws. Since these novels are best understood when read sequentially, you would be well advised to read the fourteen previous Falco novels, just so you can have the pleasure of reading this one.

Scandal Takes a Holiday, the next book in the Falco series, follows our intrepid hero to the port of Ostia where he is trying to ascertain the whereabouts of a missing scribe. This is not just any scribe, however–it is Infamia, the celebrated writer of the scandal column in Rome’s official newspaper. In the process, Falco discovers a corrupt builders’ guild, a kidnapping racket, and the unsettling information that Cilician pirates (the ones that Pompey wiped out a hundred years ago) might be plying their trade once again. I “really liked” this one, but it wasn’t “amazing.” Four stars! I’m going to be so sad when I finish reading this series….

A Body in the Bathhouse & The Jupiter Myth, by Lindsey Davis

Britain–the last place on earth that Marcus Didius Falco wants to visit. But when Emperor Vespasian asks him to conduct a cost analysis of a building site on the edge of the empire, our hero can hardly refuse. A Body in the Bathhouse shows the Didius family traveling en masse to the wilds of Britain: Marcus, his helpful wife Helena Justina, and their two little girls; Justinus and Aulus, assistants and brothers-in-law to the intrepid informer; and Maia, Marcus’ sarcastic sister who needs to flee Rome to escape reprisals from the spurned Anacrites.

The palace under construction, a gift from Vespasian to the British tribal king Togidubnus, has more problems than a simple case of overspending. The head architect is unwilling to take any input from his client, valuable building materials keep disappearing from the building site, and Falco suspects that extra wages are being doled out to a phantom labor force. When the head architect winds up dead inside–you guessed it–a bathhouse, it’s up to Falco to find the perpetrator amidst myriads of men with motives.

After solving the murder and making the building site solvent, Marcus and family head off to Londinium, beginning a new book entitled The Jupiter Myth. When a character involved in the last case winds up dead in one of Londinium’s taverns, Marcus discovers that the backwater banks of the Thamesis are capable of hiding as much villainy as the lurid streets of Rome. He unearths a protection racket that has been plaguing the town for some time, cleverly marking its “protected” businesses with lightning bolts and names associated with myths about the god Jupiter.

Petronius Longus joins the Didius family in Londinium, bringing Maia’s gaggle of children. He seems to have some special knowledge of his own about the protection racket and goes undercover to track down the mobsters. When the sad news arrives that two of Petro’s daughters have been carried off by the chicken pox, Maia’s scorn for Petro melts into pity–but Falco has grave doubts whether a romance between his favorite sister and his best friend would be to anyone’s benefit.

Both of these books display impressive information about the Roman footprint in Britain, culled from archaeological evidence. A Body in the Bathhouse delves into the intricacies of Roman architecture–and the timeless graft and incompetence associated with building contractors everywhere. The Jupiter Myth paints an intriguing picture of what the ancient town of London might have looked like–as seen through the scornful eyes of a snobby city boy, born and bred in Rome.

One Virgin Too Many, and Ode to a Banker, by Lindsey Davis

Books 11 and 12 of the Marcus Didius Falco series continue to defy disappointment. In One Virgin Too Many, Vespasian rewards Marcus with middle class status at long last! Along with the new rank comes a new position, Procurator of the Sacred Poultry. The Didius family finds a source of endless laughter and derision as Marcus presides over every sacred festival as nanny to the honorable birds.

In this book, Lindsey Davis examines the mysterious cults at the heart of the old Roman religion. When Helena’s brother Aelianus tries to join the Arval Brethren–an exclusive society of corn-husk wearing revelers–he stumbles over the corpse of one of their members, throat slashed and blood drained into a bowl. At the same time Gaia Laelia, a six-year-old girl about to be chosen in the rigged lottery for a new Vestal Virgin, gives Marcus the disturbing information that her family is trying to kill her. Are the events connected?  And can Marcus stop the second murder before it is too late?

(As a side note, I absolutely love this cover for One Virgin Too Many. I typically prefer the UK covers when it comes to Lindsey Davis’ books, but this US cover with the black background and the red roses is gorgeous. I’ve added it to my Pinterest board of book cover inspirations for my own work.)

In Ode to a Banker, Lindsey Davis tackles both the publishing and the banking industries in ancient Rome. Aurelius Chrysippus, a tasteless Greek who owns a Scriptorium, approaches Marcus to see if he would like to self-publish his poetic scribblings. Outraged that he would be expected to pay the costs of the “printing” himself (ah, vanity publishing!), Marcus storms away, only to find out that the odious Greek must have outraged someone else that day too. Aurelius Chrysippus’ corpse is discovered beaten to a pulp with the finial of a scroll shoved up his nose, and Petronius Longus (chief of the vigiles) subcontracts Marcus to investigate. As he interviews disgruntled authors, an old first wife, a young second wife, and a spoiled son, Marcus discovers that Chrysippus had fingers in more than one pie. He also owns a bank, entitled the Golden Horse, and his shady business deals there may have run him into more trouble than his lack of literary taste at the publishing house.

Lindsey Davis provides a fascinating window into the worlds of finance and publishing, especially interesting to me now that my husband and I have decided to start our own “Scriptorium.” Madison Street Publishing, we’re calling it–has a nice ring to it, no? We’ve bought up a block of ISBN’s, and our next step is to create a logo. Here’s hoping to a kindlier fate and a less gruesome end than that of Aurelius Chrysippus!

A Dying Light in Corduba, Three Hands in the Fountain, and Two for the Lions, by Lindsey Davis

How many volumes can I cover in one review article? That is a question of prime importance when you’re as behind as I am on writing book reviews. For the past several weeks, all my writing time has been eaten up by Road from the West, my novel in progress. But now that the rough draft is done and in the hands of my beta readers, I can afford a little time to chronicle my other bookish pursuits.

Lindsey Davis is still holding a virtual monopoly on my reading time. I tried cracking the covers of some other books–I truly did!–but I can’t help comparing every character to Marcus Didius Falco or Helena Justina. And frankly, there’s a lot of historical fiction authors who are just plain inferior when placed side by side with the incomparable Lindsey Davis.

A Dying Light in Corduba saw our hero, Marcus Didius Falco, set off on a mission to Spain with a very pregnant Helena Justina in tow. Racketeers are forming a cartel to control the export and prices of olive oil.  With a commodity that important to Roman society (think how important electric lighting is to us today!), the stakes are high and men are ready to kill for control. Marcus finds a close-knit and close-lipped society of provincials in Baetica, Spain. Everyone knows something about the incipient cartel, but no one wants to peach on their neighbors.  The plot thickens when Marcus discovers that a second spy has been sent to shadow his own mission–but which dancer is she? And is she friend or foe?

The convoluted banquet scene at the beginning of A Dying Light in Corduba made it one of my least favorite in the Falco canon, but the pace picked up and the story clarified itself by the end. And honestly, how could  you skip any one of these novels without missing out on major events in the main characters’ lives. Can Marcus crack the case before Helena Justina’s water breaks, or will he be stuck delivering the baby himself in the wilds of Hispania?

In Three Hands in the Fountain, Marcus returns to Rome to find out that his longtime friend Petronius Longus has been thrown out of his home–his affair with Balbina Milvia (daughter of the mob boss our boys tracked down in Time to Depart) has become public knowledge and Arria Silvia can endure the humiliation no longer. As painful as this domestic situation is, there are even more horrific doings afoot in the capital of the world. Human body parts–hands, feet, heads–have been showing up in the water supply all around the city, and the mutilated torsos that belong to these appendages are drifting down the Tiber. These “festival fancies”, as Marcus’ crass brother-in-law Lollius terms them, only show up during and around the time of the games (spectacles of gladiator fights and chariot racing that occur approximately three times a year). As he investigates, Marcus discovers that these festival fancies have been appearing for years. He is dealing with a maniacal serial killer, one who preys on pretty young women in public places. When Claudia Rufina, the Baetican heiress betrothed to Helena Justina’s brother Aelianus, vanishes, the quest for the killer becomes personal. Can Marcus find the killer before he does away with Claudia?

In Three Hands in the Fountain, Lindsey Davis provides a brilliant description of the Roman water supply, the interconnectedness of the aqueducts, and their sources up in the hills outside the city. She also hits just the right note in describing the Roman enthusiasm for sport. Marcus standing up in the chariot arena screaming for the Blues (while Helena Justina rolls her eyes and adjusts his seat cushion), is the perfect parallel to the modern football enthusiast and his longsuffering wife. This book–with its serial killer suspense–was one of the most exciting Falco novels in the whole set. Hard to put down, indeed.

Two for the Lions sees Marcus partnering up with his old nemesis Anacrites as Census fraud investigators. Anacrites (who had tried to arrange for our hero’s death in Last Act in Palmyra) attracted the sympathy of Falco’s ma when he received a severe knock on the head in A Dying Light in Corduba. Much to Falco’s chagrin, the Chief Spy now boards at his mother’s house and considers himself part of the Didius family. The money-grubbing Emperor Vespasian hires the two men to investigate the estates of those who claimed a suspiciously low income during the Census. Vespasian means to have every last denarius due him, and if Marcus and Anacrites can prove tax fraud, they will get a large cut of the profits.

Dovetailing nicely with the previous book, the investigation focuses on the sporting world and, specifically, the purveyors of men and animals. The new amphitheater Vespasian is constructing (i.e. the Coliseum) has produced great tension between rival purveyors. Who will get the contract to supply the gladiators and wild beasts for the huge arena? When a man-eating lion meets with a mysterious accident, Falco decides to investigate the death. His inquiries leads him as far afield as Carthage and onto the sand of the arena where no man is safe.

Two for the Lions is an engaging story, particularly the subplot following Helena’s brother Justinus and the bride he stole from his brother in the previous book. The deserts of North Africa have proved a very unromantic location to elope to. Does Claudia Rufina still have any affection for her new husband, and did Justinus ever have anything else in mind besides her large fortune?

Poseidon’s Gold, Last Act in Palmyra, and Time to Depart, by Lindsey Davis

Books five through seven in the Marcus Didius Falco series, by Lindsey Davis, continue to captivate my attention just as much as the previous four did. Once again, Lindsey Davis uses each novel to focus on a particular aspect of Roman society, providing a humorous narrator, a clever whodunit, and an unconventional love story to tie it all together.

In Poseidon’s Gold, Marcus is forced to deal with the artistic mess that his “war hero” brother Festus left behind at his death. Unbeknownst to his family, Festus had been using his time in Judea to run several merchant ventures; but one  of the ships disappeared with its cargo, and now the investors want the Didius family to give them their money back. Fraudulent sculptures run amok, Marcus must confront his anger at the father who abandoned him, and  Helena discovers that Marcus’s relationship with his brother’s girlfriend is a little more complicated than she would like. Lindsey Davis sheds a spotlight on the place of Greek sculpture in the Roman world and the derivative nature of Roman art.

In Last Act in Palmyra, Marcus undertakes an Imperial assignment to the wilds of Syria with orders to reports back on the political climate there. While touring the desert towns with Helena, Marcus discovers the murdered body of a member of an acting troupe. Determined to bring the killer to justice, Marcus takes the dead man’s job of adapting and updating old Greek plays for modern day (A.D. 72) performances), and takes the opportunity of sizing up all the actors’ motives for murder along the way. The book highlights the geography of the Middle East as the group travels through the ten towns of Decapolis. Lindsey Davis also subtly educates her audience on the difference between the old Greek plays and the “New” Comedy. Marcus and the readers share an inside joke as he pens his own theatrical contribution, The Spook Who Spoke, the plot of which seems eerily similar to Shakespeare’s immortal work Hamlet.

In Time to Depart, Marcus must assist his longtime friend Petronius in ridding the city of Rome of some of its organized crime. Balbinus Pius, the Al Capone of the A. D. 70′s has just been sentenced to death, and in accordance with the old Roman custom, given time to depart the empire if he wishes to avoid his execution (since living outside the empire was, in the opinion of the old Roman statesmen, an even worse fate than death). With Balbinus Pius gone, a new wave of crime riddles the city, and it is up to Marcus and the vigiles (Roman policemen) to discover the name of the new crime boss in town. On the home front, Helena discovers that she is expecting a child, and Marcus must deal with the unpleasant task of breaking the news to her senatorial family. Time to Depart is mobster noir at its finest; it just happens to be set in ancient Rome , not 1920s Chicago.

My Cousin Rachel, by Daphne Du Maurier

“There are some women, Philip, good women, very possibly, who through no fault of their own impel disaster. Whatever they touch turns to tragedy.”

My Cousin Rachel, by Daphne Du Maurier, is the story of one such woman and the disaster she wreaks in the lives of two men. Philip Ashley is orphaned at a young age and his cousin Ambrose, twenty years his senior, brings him up as his ward and his heir. At forty-three years of age, it seems unlikely that Ambrose will ever marry. But when his doctors send him to Italy to improve his health, Ambrose makes the acquaintance of a distant relative of his, a young widow named Rachel. Thrown together by their mutual passion for gardening, Ambrose becomes enamored with Rachel. Philip learns in a letter that his cousin and mentor has married and will not be returning home to England for some time.

Jealous of Ambrose’s new relationship, Philip sulks at home on the estate, his mind painting pictures of Rachel as a harpy, a monster, or worse. Ambrose’s letters become fewer and farther between till all of a sudden a startling epistle arrives. Ambrose’s distorted handwriting informs Philip that he is sick, perhaps unto death, and contains veiled intimations that his wife Rachel might be the one responsible for his sickness. Philip races to Florence but comes too late. Ambrose is dead, Rachel is gone, and no one can enlighten him as to her whereabouts. He returns home a sad man, but still the heir to Ambrose’s estate and fortune.

Weeks later the mysterious Rachel shows up in England to bring back her deceased husband’s personal effects. Philip, influenced by the paranoia in Ambrose’s last letter, has grown to hate the very thought of her. He is surprised to discover that she is merely an ordinary–and very likeable–woman. He invites her to stay for a while at the estate to meet the tenants and see the home that Ambrose loved so much. As the weeks go by, his liking for Rachel grows and grows. Scraps of unfinished letters by Ambrose surface directly accusing his wife of poisoning him, but by now Philip is too infatuated to pay them any attention. He is no longer interested in investigating whether Rachel murdered her husband, until the question finally arises: does she intend to do the same thing again?

I’ve been progressing at a snail’s pace through most of my books these days, a chapter here and there whenever I can fit it in. This book, however, only took me two days to complete. Written in the same suspenseful voice as Du Maurier’s masterpiece Rebecca, the book keeps you enthralled till the very end. The characters and settings are well described and memorable, and Ambrose Ashley’s line, “Rachel, my torment,” will echo with you long after you have closed the cover.

Venus in Copper and The Iron Hand of Mars, by Lindsey Davis

It is fascinating to me how Lindsey Davis has created the character of Marcus Didius Falco in such a way that she can use him as a window into whatever facet of Roman society she desires. Venus in Copper and The Iron Hand of Mars are books three and four in the Marcus Didius Falco series, and the missions Falco undertakes in them are about as different from each other as Sherlock Holmes and the Scarlet Pimpernel.

In Venus in Copper, Marcus branches out on his own as a private investigator, taking a hiatus from his palace work for Vespasian. He is hired by two wealthy Roman matrons, former slaves who, along with their husbands, are now extremely wealthy property owners. The ladies are concerned for the safety of their husbands’ colleague, Novus, who is about to enter into marriage with Severina Zotica, a professional bride. Severina has had three husbands before, all of whom died suspiciously leaving her with a great deal of money on her hands. Will Novus meet the same fate?

This book showcases a very interesting segment of Roman society that I had never thought about before, “freedmen” who after being released from slavery go on to become fabulously wealthy. It also reveals the slummy side of Rome, showing landlords out for gain at the expense of their tenants. The scene where Marcus’ tenement building collapses and he thinks that Helena Justina lies dead inside is brilliantly written.

In The Iron Hand of Mars, Marcus is once again in Vespasian’s employ. At the instigation of Titus, who is a little too interested in Marcus’ senatorial girlfriend Helena Justina, Marcus is sent on a far off mission to the wilds of Germany. He must discover the fate of a missing legate, stop a priestess from inciting the tribes to war, and put the tribal chieftain under house arrest. Helena’s honorable (and lovable) brother Justinus joins Marcus on his mission and saves Marcus’ bacon when the natives grow restless.

Lindsey Davis packs a tremendous amount of Roman history into The Iron Hand of Mars, bringing the reader up to speed with all of Rome’s dealings with Germany and the various uprisings that have happened there in the last hundred years. Oftentimes, authors will end up using contrived conversations to dump historical information on the reader, but even the “educational” conversations in this book felt perfectly natural and stayed interesting.

On to book five…where will Marcus Didius Falco go next?