What do you think?
Rate this book
Goddess
Versailles, 1686: Julie d'Aubigny, a striking young girl taught to fence and fight in the court of the Sun King, is taken as mistress by the King's Master of Horse. Tempestuous, swashbuckling and volatile, within two years she has run away with her fencing master, fallen in love with a nun and is hiding from the authorities, sentenced to be burnt at the stake. Within another year, she has become Mademoiselle de Maupin, a beloved star at the famed Paris Opéra. Her lovers include some of Europe's most powerful men and France's most beautiful women. Yet Julie is destined to die alone in a convent at the age of 33.
Based on an extraordinary true story, this is an original, dazzling and witty novel - a compelling portrait of an unforgettable woman.
For all those readers who love Sarah Dunant, Sarah Waters and Hilary Mantel.
Based on an extraordinary true story, this is an original, dazzling and witty novel - a compelling portrait of an unforgettable woman.
For all those readers who love Sarah Dunant, Sarah Waters and Hilary Mantel.
384 pages, ebook
First published June 1, 2014
125 people are currently reading
3,785 people want to read
About the author
Kelly Gardiner
19Ìýbooks88ÌýfollowersKelly Gardiner's new book is Miss Caroline Bingley, Private Detective (HarperCollins), co-written with Sharmini Kumar. Her most recent novels for young readers include a time slip adventure trilogy called 'The Firewatcher Chronicles': 'Brimstone', 'Phoenix', and 'Vigil'; and '1917: Australia's Great War', set in Flanders and in Melbourne during the First World War (all published by Scholastic).
Her novel 'Goddess' (HarperCollins) was based on the life of the remarkable Julie d'Aubigny, also known as Mademoiselle de Maupin - a 17th century opera singer and swordswoman.
Kelly's other books include the acclaimed young adult novels 'The Sultan's Eyes' and 'Act of Faith' (HarperCollins); and for younger readers, 'Billabong Bill's Bushfire Christmas' (Random House), and the ‘Swashbuckler!� trilogy (HarperCollins): 'Ocean Without End', 'The Pirate's Revenge' and 'The Silver Swan'.
Kelly taught creative writing at La Trobe University for many years and now runs writing retreats and masterclasses. She lives in Melbourne, Australia, and on Waiheke Island, New Zealand.
Her novel 'Goddess' (HarperCollins) was based on the life of the remarkable Julie d'Aubigny, also known as Mademoiselle de Maupin - a 17th century opera singer and swordswoman.
Kelly's other books include the acclaimed young adult novels 'The Sultan's Eyes' and 'Act of Faith' (HarperCollins); and for younger readers, 'Billabong Bill's Bushfire Christmas' (Random House), and the ‘Swashbuckler!� trilogy (HarperCollins): 'Ocean Without End', 'The Pirate's Revenge' and 'The Silver Swan'.
Kelly taught creative writing at La Trobe University for many years and now runs writing retreats and masterclasses. She lives in Melbourne, Australia, and on Waiheke Island, New Zealand.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 179 reviews
August 26, 2017
Who wants to read a story about a swordfighting, bisexual opera singer? To meet an awesome historical lady? A woman whose life was so unbelievable that it stills excites people today?!
If you do, than this book is just the one for you!
Oh my stars Julie, how I fell in love with you. Readers, meet my new fictional-girlfriend, Julie d’Aubigny, who lived in the late 17th century France. Think of her as a woman who has the sword fighting skill of Inigo Montoya, the singing voice of Christine Daae, and who possessed the same unworldly beauty as David Bowie. Is she a girl? Is she a boy? Who is this person who can fence so well, who is a diva at the Paris Opera? Who apparently broke into a monastery to save her girlfriend when she was only 16 years old?!
Sounds stranger than fiction, but this woman really existed.
During her life Julie d’Aubigny (1673-1707), more known under the (stage) name Madame de Maupin, was cause for many rumours and stories, and rumours only grow after she died. In this book Kelly Gardiner has used all of the historical proof about Julie’s life to write Goddess. This book is a fictionalised biography where you switch between Julie recounting her personal history, and chapters told from a third person P.O.V. who meets Julie during her life.
In Julie’s own chapters she’s lying on her deathbed and narrating her life-story to a priest, but death doesn’t soften her tone. Julie is dauntless, arrogant, and brutally honest during the entire book.
Yes, Julie never hides her (sexual) interests from anybody, not even from monks. She’s really open and honest in the book about the many (high-class) men and women that she loved during her lifetime. Among them is Clara, the girl from the monastery, Joseph de Luynes, Count of Albert, and Marie-Thérèse de Florensac, known as ‘the most beautiful woman in France�.
It’s refreshing to read a historical-fiction novel where the MC doesn’t make a fuss about his/her sexual preferences. Although the outside world scorns her, Julie is never bothered by the scandals her love affairs create, and neither are her lovers.
I call this book a biography, and yet it troubles me to do so. It’s not because of the lack of study though. Julie’s life was so unconventional and non-recorded that it’s hard to distinguish truth from lies, as Kelly Gardiner admits in her afterword, but for everything d’Aubigny (supposedly) did Gardiner searched long in dusty archives to find actual evidence.
That dedication and research certainly pays off � Julie truly comes alive in the book � but Gardiner decided to write this biography as a work of fiction, and that nearly kills Julie d’Aubigny all over again. This book is namely filled with long lines with excessive words praising Julie’s deeds and actions. In the third person chapters, every person mentions Julie’s beauty or her skill in battle. Julie herself isn’t above praising herself too, and therefore a large part of this book is filled with ‘glory-rain� for Julie d’Aubigny.
It’s really boring to read.
Come on Gardiner, take a pair of scissors and kill your darlings! Julie’s life is fascinating enough on its own, and by the time she broke Clara out of the monastery I’d already fallen in love with her. I don’t need 100 pages filled with praise to understand how awesome she is. You'd have made your sentences shorter and less filled with adjectives. Julie kicks ass; so should your lines.
So because of Gardiner’s flowery writing style, this book only gets 3 stars. Julie d’Aubigny as a character certainly deserves more, but she’d have come out stronger if this book was shorter. Still, if you want to read about an impressive, fearless historical woman, Goddess definitely is a book for you.
If you do, than this book is just the one for you!
I dressed not as a man, not as a woman � just as myself. As a chevalier who happened to be born female. I wore the clothes and the sword of a gentleman, but I wore them like a woman. I never let anyone forget who I truly was � am. Julie-Émilie. Mademoiselle d’Aubigny. Madame de Maupin. La Travesti. Nobody else. Me.
Oh my stars Julie, how I fell in love with you. Readers, meet my new fictional-girlfriend, Julie d’Aubigny, who lived in the late 17th century France. Think of her as a woman who has the sword fighting skill of Inigo Montoya, the singing voice of Christine Daae, and who possessed the same unworldly beauty as David Bowie. Is she a girl? Is she a boy? Who is this person who can fence so well, who is a diva at the Paris Opera? Who apparently broke into a monastery to save her girlfriend when she was only 16 years old?!
Sounds stranger than fiction, but this woman really existed.
During her life Julie d’Aubigny (1673-1707), more known under the (stage) name Madame de Maupin, was cause for many rumours and stories, and rumours only grow after she died. In this book Kelly Gardiner has used all of the historical proof about Julie’s life to write Goddess. This book is a fictionalised biography where you switch between Julie recounting her personal history, and chapters told from a third person P.O.V. who meets Julie during her life.
In Julie’s own chapters she’s lying on her deathbed and narrating her life-story to a priest, but death doesn’t soften her tone. Julie is dauntless, arrogant, and brutally honest during the entire book.
Come in or piss off � I don’t care either way.
Who in Hell are you?
Prophet of doom, by the look. First man I’ve sighted in two months, and what do they send me? I’m not entirely sure it was worth the wait. Still, I like to see a new face, and you’re handsome enough. For a priest.
What a waste.
Yes, Julie never hides her (sexual) interests from anybody, not even from monks. She’s really open and honest in the book about the many (high-class) men and women that she loved during her lifetime. Among them is Clara, the girl from the monastery, Joseph de Luynes, Count of Albert, and Marie-Thérèse de Florensac, known as ‘the most beautiful woman in France�.
It’s refreshing to read a historical-fiction novel where the MC doesn’t make a fuss about his/her sexual preferences. Although the outside world scorns her, Julie is never bothered by the scandals her love affairs create, and neither are her lovers.
[Marie-Thérèse] “You need not fight any duels on my account tonight.�
I will behave myself this time, I promise.
“What a pity.�
Julie feels as if there are seabirds in her belly, plummeting and pitching, circling, crying out.
I call this book a biography, and yet it troubles me to do so. It’s not because of the lack of study though. Julie’s life was so unconventional and non-recorded that it’s hard to distinguish truth from lies, as Kelly Gardiner admits in her afterword, but for everything d’Aubigny (supposedly) did Gardiner searched long in dusty archives to find actual evidence.
That dedication and research certainly pays off � Julie truly comes alive in the book � but Gardiner decided to write this biography as a work of fiction, and that nearly kills Julie d’Aubigny all over again. This book is namely filled with long lines with excessive words praising Julie’s deeds and actions. In the third person chapters, every person mentions Julie’s beauty or her skill in battle. Julie herself isn’t above praising herself too, and therefore a large part of this book is filled with ‘glory-rain� for Julie d’Aubigny.
It’s really boring to read.
Come on Gardiner, take a pair of scissors and kill your darlings! Julie’s life is fascinating enough on its own, and by the time she broke Clara out of the monastery I’d already fallen in love with her. I don’t need 100 pages filled with praise to understand how awesome she is. You'd have made your sentences shorter and less filled with adjectives. Julie kicks ass; so should your lines.
So because of Gardiner’s flowery writing style, this book only gets 3 stars. Julie d’Aubigny as a character certainly deserves more, but she’d have come out stronger if this book was shorter. Still, if you want to read about an impressive, fearless historical woman, Goddess definitely is a book for you.
October 28, 2016
This is from the book's description:
Versailles, 1686: Julie d'Aubigny, a striking young girl taught to fence and fight in the court of the Sun King, is taken as mistress by the King's Master of Horse. Tempestuous, swashbuckling and volatile, within two years she has run away with her fencing master, fallen in love with a nun and is hiding from the authorities, sentenced to be burnt at the stake.
What really made me want to read this, however, is that it is based on a true story.
Doesn't that sound fantastic?
However, while the story is amazing, and I really enjoyed the writing and the concept of telling Julie's story in a series of scenes set at different times during Julie's life and bound together by her deathbed confession, the structure provided a bit of a problem: because the story was told in flashbacks, we kinda knew what was going to happen. Also, the flashbacks didn't really allow for much time to develop the characters of the people she meets along the way. So, while the book describes Julie's life through a number of anecdotes, I was missing an overarching story or theme.
Still, it was a good read to learn more about Julie d'Aubigny and I enjoyed the setting of the book. In some scenes, Gardiner really made 17th century France come to life.
Versailles, 1686: Julie d'Aubigny, a striking young girl taught to fence and fight in the court of the Sun King, is taken as mistress by the King's Master of Horse. Tempestuous, swashbuckling and volatile, within two years she has run away with her fencing master, fallen in love with a nun and is hiding from the authorities, sentenced to be burnt at the stake.
What really made me want to read this, however, is that it is based on a true story.
Doesn't that sound fantastic?
However, while the story is amazing, and I really enjoyed the writing and the concept of telling Julie's story in a series of scenes set at different times during Julie's life and bound together by her deathbed confession, the structure provided a bit of a problem: because the story was told in flashbacks, we kinda knew what was going to happen. Also, the flashbacks didn't really allow for much time to develop the characters of the people she meets along the way. So, while the book describes Julie's life through a number of anecdotes, I was missing an overarching story or theme.
Still, it was a good read to learn more about Julie d'Aubigny and I enjoyed the setting of the book. In some scenes, Gardiner really made 17th century France come to life.
October 6, 2015
Perhaps National Public Radio should desist from recommending books and music, because the preferences indicated, for the most part, lack any sense of taste. The story of Julie-Émilie d’Aubigny, known as Mademoiselle de Maupin, sounded interesting, but the writer is totally incompetent. Although I am a firm supporter of the First Amendment and would never countenance the censorship of any idea or subject, the prose through which such may be conveyed is another matter entirely. There are those who should never set pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard); Kelly Gardiner is one. This is truly dreadful, and it will take me some time to recover from the most purple prose I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. Beware!
August 3, 2014
I’m been a big admirer of Kelly Gardiner’s gorgeous historical novels for young adults, Act of Faith and The Sultan’s Eyes, both of which are set in the mid-17th century, one of my favourite historical periods for fiction. Goddess is Kelly’s first novel for adults, based on the fascinating true life story of Julie d'Aubigny, a woman out of step with her own time (The court of the Sun King, Louise XIV, in Paris during the 1680s) Raised like a boy by her swordsman father, Julie likes to dress like a man and will fight a duel with anyone who crosses her. One night she fights three duels back-to-back, winning them all. She elopes with a young nun and is sentenced to be burned at the stake, but escapes and becomes a famous opera star. The story of her adventures seems too incredible to possibly be true. The book is told in Julie’s voice � witty, intelligent and wry - and the whole is pulled off with wit and flair.
September 23, 2018
2.5 stars, and a lot of that is for things that usually are of secondary importance to me, like the visual and structural aspects of the book � but man, the cover design and layout of this book are gorgeous. Like, stupidly gorgeous. It took me months to get into this book, so it was always sitting in my Theoretically Reading Right Now pile or on my bedside table, and the upside of that was that I got to ogle the cover a lot.
The inside, too, is beautifully arranged. The whole thing is structured as an opera in five acts, with third-person flashback scenes arranged as minuets, ballets, duets, ensembles and so forth. Each is followed by a “Recitative� scene in which our titular goddess reflects on events past as a first-person POV whilst verbally abusing the priest she’s telling the whole thing to as a sort of deathbed confession, if something can be called a confession without repentance. I suspect the style is not for everyone but I thought it was a pretty genius choice considering the subject matter. If you’re going to write about the life of an opera diva, might as well choose a style as flamboyant as your heroine.
So yeah. The dress-up of this book is exquisite. Even the sodding font was stupidly pretty.
The content� not so much.
Before reading this book, I’d already heard some of the impressive facts that made up the life of Julie d’Aubigny � swashbuckling 17th century fencing genius, unapologetically, nay, magnificently bisexual crossdresser, adored opera star, breathtakingly gorgeous, set a convent on fire to rescue the nun she was in love with, escaped death at the stake, all-round real-life historical badass, etc. etc. As the author mentions in her afterword, there’s hardly any need to add any dramatics to a life already so thoroughly steeped in them.
What I did wish she could have added is depth. I have no doubt that she did her research and that all of the events Julie recounts are more or less historically accurate. Which, you know, power to Julie, she sounds like she was incredible. But I hardly ever felt like this book was doing anything to make me relate to her as a person. Despite its appealing structure, the style is all tell: scene after scene after scene of people falling for Julie, people worshipping Julie, people admiring (often against their will) all the ways in which Julie is fabulous. Each scene followed by one of Julie’s reflections, which usually consist of some variation on “Why, yes, of course I was fabulous.� As a fencer, a lover, a singer, a diva, she is always exquisite and larger than life. Everyone knows it, she knows it. Julie is so beautiful and so perfect and so adored and so unconventional and so accomplished at everything, blah blah blah.
It got a little tedious.
Instead of peeling back the dramatics and exploring what may have lain beneath, all the book was really doing was embracing the drama. All events occurred in these huge melodramatic bursts � insta-love, duels, suicide attempts, thrilling escapes, more insta-love. The writing itself is very flowery and melodramatic � it suited the character and the setting, for sure, but it, too, rang a little hollow after the umpteenth climactic declaration. Like an opera, it was all larger-than-life passions, delivered in larger-than-life gestures, and I felt like the momentum burned off early and never came back.
Another major problem of the all-tell approach is that none of the side characters are developed to be anything more than bit players in the drama of Julie’s life. She had all these highly intriguing relationships (with the girl sent to the convent, with the Comte she duelled who became her best friend, with the other women at the opera, with the noblewoman who becomes her lover), but you never get a sense of who these people are and what, in fact, Julie sees in them to connect to them so strongly (other than that they're all superbly attractive, natch). Every relationship was a theatrical insta-connection, every emotion an over-stylized theatre prop. Nothing felt real. I think the style could have really worked if the third-person sections had actually delved into some of those other characters as people, not just as mirrors to reflect Julie’s glory. As it was, reading an endless string of “She was a goddess!� alternating with “Oh yes, I was� scenes very quickly lost its appeal.
I do think the intent here was to reclaim this historical figure a bit from her goddess pedestal but I never felt like the author succeeded in that. Even Julie’s flaws (a volatile temper, a tendency towards overly dramatic gestures, a dangerous streak of weltschmerz) are really just more things for everyone (including Julie herself) to admire. Such passion! Such fervour! Such unrepentant, scandalous selfhood! Well, sure. But if you have nothing but accolades to go with it, you don't have any actual character development, or in fact a story beyond what historical records have already provided.
Never thought I’d come away from an account of such a unique and fascinating life feeling thoroughly bored, but sadly that’s exactly what happened. I guess I’m going to stick with ogling the stupidly gorgeous cover some more.
The inside, too, is beautifully arranged. The whole thing is structured as an opera in five acts, with third-person flashback scenes arranged as minuets, ballets, duets, ensembles and so forth. Each is followed by a “Recitative� scene in which our titular goddess reflects on events past as a first-person POV whilst verbally abusing the priest she’s telling the whole thing to as a sort of deathbed confession, if something can be called a confession without repentance. I suspect the style is not for everyone but I thought it was a pretty genius choice considering the subject matter. If you’re going to write about the life of an opera diva, might as well choose a style as flamboyant as your heroine.
So yeah. The dress-up of this book is exquisite. Even the sodding font was stupidly pretty.
The content� not so much.
Before reading this book, I’d already heard some of the impressive facts that made up the life of Julie d’Aubigny � swashbuckling 17th century fencing genius, unapologetically, nay, magnificently bisexual crossdresser, adored opera star, breathtakingly gorgeous, set a convent on fire to rescue the nun she was in love with, escaped death at the stake, all-round real-life historical badass, etc. etc. As the author mentions in her afterword, there’s hardly any need to add any dramatics to a life already so thoroughly steeped in them.
What I did wish she could have added is depth. I have no doubt that she did her research and that all of the events Julie recounts are more or less historically accurate. Which, you know, power to Julie, she sounds like she was incredible. But I hardly ever felt like this book was doing anything to make me relate to her as a person. Despite its appealing structure, the style is all tell: scene after scene after scene of people falling for Julie, people worshipping Julie, people admiring (often against their will) all the ways in which Julie is fabulous. Each scene followed by one of Julie’s reflections, which usually consist of some variation on “Why, yes, of course I was fabulous.� As a fencer, a lover, a singer, a diva, she is always exquisite and larger than life. Everyone knows it, she knows it. Julie is so beautiful and so perfect and so adored and so unconventional and so accomplished at everything, blah blah blah.
It got a little tedious.
Instead of peeling back the dramatics and exploring what may have lain beneath, all the book was really doing was embracing the drama. All events occurred in these huge melodramatic bursts � insta-love, duels, suicide attempts, thrilling escapes, more insta-love. The writing itself is very flowery and melodramatic � it suited the character and the setting, for sure, but it, too, rang a little hollow after the umpteenth climactic declaration. Like an opera, it was all larger-than-life passions, delivered in larger-than-life gestures, and I felt like the momentum burned off early and never came back.
Another major problem of the all-tell approach is that none of the side characters are developed to be anything more than bit players in the drama of Julie’s life. She had all these highly intriguing relationships (with the girl sent to the convent, with the Comte she duelled who became her best friend, with the other women at the opera, with the noblewoman who becomes her lover), but you never get a sense of who these people are and what, in fact, Julie sees in them to connect to them so strongly (other than that they're all superbly attractive, natch). Every relationship was a theatrical insta-connection, every emotion an over-stylized theatre prop. Nothing felt real. I think the style could have really worked if the third-person sections had actually delved into some of those other characters as people, not just as mirrors to reflect Julie’s glory. As it was, reading an endless string of “She was a goddess!� alternating with “Oh yes, I was� scenes very quickly lost its appeal.
I do think the intent here was to reclaim this historical figure a bit from her goddess pedestal but I never felt like the author succeeded in that. Even Julie’s flaws (a volatile temper, a tendency towards overly dramatic gestures, a dangerous streak of weltschmerz) are really just more things for everyone (including Julie herself) to admire. Such passion! Such fervour! Such unrepentant, scandalous selfhood! Well, sure. But if you have nothing but accolades to go with it, you don't have any actual character development, or in fact a story beyond what historical records have already provided.
Never thought I’d come away from an account of such a unique and fascinating life feeling thoroughly bored, but sadly that’s exactly what happened. I guess I’m going to stick with ogling the stupidly gorgeous cover some more.
August 4, 2014
Motherless Julie d’Aubigny is brought up in the palatial stables of Versailles by her a fencing-instructor father. He treats her much as any other squire under his tutelage and Julie lives in breeches and develops into a superlative swordswoman � until the King’s Master of Horse transplants this striking boy-girl to Paris to become his mistress at age thirteen.
Sounds improbable, the stuff of melodrama and costume romance? Well truth is stranger than fiction in this case. Kelly Gardiner’s novel traces the larger-than-life career of a real historical personage. In the process, she creates a unique, blunt and quite compelling voice for this gender-bending, swashbuckling, and radically unconventional French opera singer.
As attested by historical sources of varying reliability, Julie runs away with her fencing tutor, falls in love with and abducts a nun, skewers a nobleman in a duel and then conducts a life-long affair with him, becomes a star of the Paris opera, kisses a married noblewoman in the middle of a crowded ballroom and then duels three furious defenders of the maligned woman’s honour, lives in disgrace in Brussels only to become Elector Maximillian Emanuel’s uncooperative mistress, flees to Spain, and eventually resumes her celebrity opera career in Paris.
In short this is a wonderful story, made all the more compelling for being founded on truth. Gardiner undertakes to bring this ambiguous and outrageous woman back to life and to furnish motivations, emotional or otherwise, for her actions. She succeeds with flair. The only aspect that reduced my enjoyment was the choice of narrative structure. Julie’s history is recounted in part from her deathbed and such hindsight retelling largely removes the suspense from the novel. Even so, I wholeheartedly recommend this book as the most exquisitely-rendered historical novel I have read in years.
(This review also appears in the Historical Novel Review: )
Sounds improbable, the stuff of melodrama and costume romance? Well truth is stranger than fiction in this case. Kelly Gardiner’s novel traces the larger-than-life career of a real historical personage. In the process, she creates a unique, blunt and quite compelling voice for this gender-bending, swashbuckling, and radically unconventional French opera singer.
As attested by historical sources of varying reliability, Julie runs away with her fencing tutor, falls in love with and abducts a nun, skewers a nobleman in a duel and then conducts a life-long affair with him, becomes a star of the Paris opera, kisses a married noblewoman in the middle of a crowded ballroom and then duels three furious defenders of the maligned woman’s honour, lives in disgrace in Brussels only to become Elector Maximillian Emanuel’s uncooperative mistress, flees to Spain, and eventually resumes her celebrity opera career in Paris.
In short this is a wonderful story, made all the more compelling for being founded on truth. Gardiner undertakes to bring this ambiguous and outrageous woman back to life and to furnish motivations, emotional or otherwise, for her actions. She succeeds with flair. The only aspect that reduced my enjoyment was the choice of narrative structure. Julie’s history is recounted in part from her deathbed and such hindsight retelling largely removes the suspense from the novel. Even so, I wholeheartedly recommend this book as the most exquisitely-rendered historical novel I have read in years.
(This review also appears in the Historical Novel Review: )
November 9, 2015
Favorite Quote:"Yet most women I know--no matter how clever, no matter how strong--are dragged down by husbands or fathers or titles or too many petticoats, or priests clutching at their hems, telling them, 'No, you cannot do that, you cannot be that.' I never listened. That's rare." (141).
The rest of this novel is driven not by the writing but by the life of Julie d'Aubigny--cross-dressing, gender-bending, swash-buckling, opera-singing, bisexual demimondaine! The toast of all Paris in the late days of the Sun King. A glorious, jaded, decadent period in the history of France. La Maupin's gender-bending iconoclasm compels the reader.
The voice the writer chooses, much like the telling not showing of The Last Kingdom, irritates more than engages. Yes, I get that Julie is dying. I get that portions are dictation. The fragments, the lack of detail, the distance from emotion is entirely French. Whether it is the failing of an English writer, or the reason I left the world of French literature, it's distancing. One never feels the visceral emotions of the characters who are clearly meant to be larger than life. Their pain, their passion, their excesses are all dictated/described at a distance. Characteristic of the French, n'est pas? Perhaps. Still, I never felt the connection the author intended.
The rest of this novel is driven not by the writing but by the life of Julie d'Aubigny--cross-dressing, gender-bending, swash-buckling, opera-singing, bisexual demimondaine! The toast of all Paris in the late days of the Sun King. A glorious, jaded, decadent period in the history of France. La Maupin's gender-bending iconoclasm compels the reader.
The voice the writer chooses, much like the telling not showing of The Last Kingdom, irritates more than engages. Yes, I get that Julie is dying. I get that portions are dictation. The fragments, the lack of detail, the distance from emotion is entirely French. Whether it is the failing of an English writer, or the reason I left the world of French literature, it's distancing. One never feels the visceral emotions of the characters who are clearly meant to be larger than life. Their pain, their passion, their excesses are all dictated/described at a distance. Characteristic of the French, n'est pas? Perhaps. Still, I never felt the connection the author intended.
May 31, 2014
A memorable, unexpected character with an appealing voice. Julie, "La Maupin," is a romantic, flamboyant figure who actually lived in 17th century France. There's plenty of swashbuckling, romance, and humor in her tale, but the best part is the fascinating evocation of the world of the Opera and the art of singing. Because the narrator's ego is so huge, she can sometimes become tiresome (and a little too lengthy) in her own praise, but this is balanced by occasional chapters told from an external point of view. Fans of opera will appreciate the novel's clever structuring into acts and musical movements; fans of swordplay will find plenty of period fencing details; history buffs will enjoy the catty but historically accurate presentation of the Sun King's opulent court. Like its heroine, who dresses in men's clothes and passionately pursues both male and female lovers, this tale has something for everyone.
June 20, 2017
I just could not get into the writer's style. Julie d'Aubiny was a sword fighting, opera singer, bi-sexual in the era of the Sun King. But I just didn't get to know her. Her exploits were brushed over with plenty of pages devoted to her giving her confessor a hard time, or in telling the reader how good she was. Julie's vocab was also a bit too modern .
April 28, 2021
What a transgression of a book! There's a queerness here that is undomesticated. I usually disapprove sanctimoniously of insta-love but this book manages to wrangle the reader's consent even for that! It's emotionally complicated.
It's operatic, excessive, swashbucking- both the story itself (the plot, the characters, the structure, the shifting POV which I also would usually see as undisciplined writing but here is deliberately excessive). The protagonist is also excessive, operatic, swashbuckling, defiantly and courageously unique and tragically flawed. This is the heroine I should have grown up with next to Robin Hood and the Knights of the Round Table and all of those- mind you whether this story can be sanitised enough for kids is a moot point. This version is certainly an adult book.
I think the feminism in the book (she is unapologetically woman without submitting to the roles assigned to women- she is devoid of wife-and-mother ways of being) would be interesting even to straight women but I read it for the queerness, the heartache, the tragedy but also the glory (it was worth being there).
I don't know what else to say. Read it!
It's operatic, excessive, swashbucking- both the story itself (the plot, the characters, the structure, the shifting POV which I also would usually see as undisciplined writing but here is deliberately excessive). The protagonist is also excessive, operatic, swashbuckling, defiantly and courageously unique and tragically flawed. This is the heroine I should have grown up with next to Robin Hood and the Knights of the Round Table and all of those- mind you whether this story can be sanitised enough for kids is a moot point. This version is certainly an adult book.
I think the feminism in the book (she is unapologetically woman without submitting to the roles assigned to women- she is devoid of wife-and-mother ways of being) would be interesting even to straight women but I read it for the queerness, the heartache, the tragedy but also the glory (it was worth being there).
I don't know what else to say. Read it!
November 12, 2016
Lordy I love it when a book surpasses my expectations!
This was such a wonderful story about a truly fabulous woman that actually existed - and I mean really lived, to the true meaning of the word - in France during the reign of the Sun king.
And I don't exaggerate that she was fabulous!
She was a rare, one of a kind person that comes into the world and burns it up.
A precocious child that was raised as a boy, learned to fence and quickly learned that in order to be more than a whipping post for her drunken father, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She set herself on a path of infamy that ultimately lead to becoming a renown opera singer who was coveted by all who saw her - male and female. She was certainly a woman before her time.
The book is set up in a wonderful way - our introduction to her is through her alone, both by her words and her memories. I loved the singular repartee, as she confesses her 'sins' to an unknown religious figure who we are only introduced to via her wicked tongue! The banter between the memories of her life is equal to her reckless abandon she obviously lived her life by. It was a pleasure to read.
Highly recommended!
This was such a wonderful story about a truly fabulous woman that actually existed - and I mean really lived, to the true meaning of the word - in France during the reign of the Sun king.
And I don't exaggerate that she was fabulous!
She was a rare, one of a kind person that comes into the world and burns it up.
A precocious child that was raised as a boy, learned to fence and quickly learned that in order to be more than a whipping post for her drunken father, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She set herself on a path of infamy that ultimately lead to becoming a renown opera singer who was coveted by all who saw her - male and female. She was certainly a woman before her time.
The book is set up in a wonderful way - our introduction to her is through her alone, both by her words and her memories. I loved the singular repartee, as she confesses her 'sins' to an unknown religious figure who we are only introduced to via her wicked tongue! The banter between the memories of her life is equal to her reckless abandon she obviously lived her life by. It was a pleasure to read.
Highly recommended!
November 26, 2014
Now that wasn't quite what I expected but this book was seductively engaging, paced well, and a wonderfully told story. I liked the flow of the book and the way the narrative was presented to the reader - one long drawn out confession to a priest of a totally scandalous life vs the activities of that period from another angle but one that mirrors what she's already hinted to the priest. I really chuckled at the conversation with the priest as we only hear her side of it. Would make fabulous viewing in a mini series (because you wouldn't want to pack that much into a movie, snippets of her life would undoubtedly be cut!). What a life. A life of intense emotion, passion, experience. A woman not of her time at all. And God how I loved her for it. Read the blurb and if you like your historical fiction (particularly set in Europe during the Sun King years) check this one out! It's a good read indeed.
March 10, 2017
Readers either absolutely loved or hated this book, I am obviously on the "love" side. I was captivated by this amazing woman who refused to live within the dictates of her time. This is the true story of a bi-sexual opera singing swordswoman who lived a life of great passion and adventure. The writing style was beautiful to me, almost poetic and lyrical in places. The format was her telling her life story to the monk who had come to hear her final confession and I found that brilliant. I definitely am looking into other books by this author.
July 12, 2014
Looks like I'm going to be the one going against the grain. I found d'Aubigny a selfish, self absorbed character who managed to ruin lives. Try as I may, I couldn't find anything about her as a character that made a heroine or redeemable. Now in saying that, Gardiner can write well, I think that is what kept me going. However, nothing about the story or character gripped me at all, I just didn't connect. The me, me, me, I, I, I throughout the novel made it quite a chore for me.
Read
October 20, 2015Interesting read
It wasn't until I read the author's notes at the end did I discover this book is largely factual! I've never heard of La Maupin and I'm glad I've discovered this gem of a book. She led an amazing, yet short life!
It wasn't until I read the author's notes at the end did I discover this book is largely factual! I've never heard of La Maupin and I'm glad I've discovered this gem of a book. She led an amazing, yet short life!
January 5, 2016
Review to comeI first heard about Julie d'Aubigny on Tumblr and when I came across this book I really wanted to read it. Since there are gaps in what we know about her the author framed the story as a series of flashbacks on her deathbed as she is supposedly giving confession. This does cover the year gaps in her life story very easily. Julie lived a very unconventional life, at a young age she became the mistress to the French King’s Horse Master and he had her married off to cover the fact she was having an affair on him. She knew how to use a sword since her father allowed her to learn and she used that skill all of her life. She was an opera singer in Paris and was loved by the crowds. The afterward does say that several characters were not real in order to mover the story along and some were composites but in the end there wasn’t a lot of material to work with and that makes the flashback narration tool the best to convey the story.
Digital review copy provided by the publisher through Edelweiss.
Digital review copy provided by the publisher through Edelweiss.
June 28, 2014
I really liked the how the historical setting, events and characters were used. While La Maupin's ramblings seemed unnecessary at first, I did enjoy the more towards the end of the novel. Having done something with Louis XIV and Lully earlier in the year, this was a nice way to view that period of history again and from a different perspective.
October 23, 2021
Julie d'Aubigny was a real swordswoman in the late 17th century, a famous opera singer, who'd kiss the girls and duel the boys, and I selected this book for my book club because man, what a badass (and also because we had gushed about her once and so I looked up any historical fictional accounts on her life).
The book, overall, wound up being satisfactory, though it fell a little flat for me. The framing device - Julie confessing her sins on her death bed - was well done and I really quite liked that. The third person prose sections lost something for me in the writing style, whether it was because of the constant POV switches or just because I don't love third-person present tense. The present tense could have been effective in making the scenes seem like a shift to Julia reflecting on her life, a kind of 'life is flashing before my eyes' kind of thing, except for the fact that it was told from so many different POVs that the effect was greatly diminished; it can't be Julia's life flashing before her eyes if I'm getting it from the perspective of some random, nameless dude in a bar, or if she's not in the scenes at all. The apparent emphasis on aesthetic morality (the belief that beauty equates to goodness) also left a bad taste in my mouth.
There were a lot of excellent moments that made me laugh or cheer for Julia, and I'm glad I read this book. There's one particularly beautiful scene where Julia watches La Monja Alferez, a play about Catalina, which I found especially poignant. I'll certainly be checking out some of the non-fiction reads that Gardiner listed at the back of her novel. Would I recommend the book? Probably not, unless Julie d'Aubigny happens to pop up naturally in conversation, however.
The book, overall, wound up being satisfactory, though it fell a little flat for me. The framing device - Julie confessing her sins on her death bed - was well done and I really quite liked that. The third person prose sections lost something for me in the writing style, whether it was because of the constant POV switches or just because I don't love third-person present tense. The present tense could have been effective in making the scenes seem like a shift to Julia reflecting on her life, a kind of 'life is flashing before my eyes' kind of thing, except for the fact that it was told from so many different POVs that the effect was greatly diminished; it can't be Julia's life flashing before her eyes if I'm getting it from the perspective of some random, nameless dude in a bar, or if she's not in the scenes at all. The apparent emphasis on aesthetic morality (the belief that beauty equates to goodness) also left a bad taste in my mouth.
There were a lot of excellent moments that made me laugh or cheer for Julia, and I'm glad I read this book. There's one particularly beautiful scene where Julia watches La Monja Alferez, a play about Catalina, which I found especially poignant. I'll certainly be checking out some of the non-fiction reads that Gardiner listed at the back of her novel. Would I recommend the book? Probably not, unless Julie d'Aubigny happens to pop up naturally in conversation, however.
September 25, 2016
I approached Kelly Gardiner’s novel Goddess with a combination of excitement and dread. It’s hard not to have mixed feelings when someone tackles the story of a real historic figure with whom one is already in love. In my completely biased opinion, anyone who encounters the biography of 17th century swordswoman and opera star Julie d’Aubigny, Mademoiselle de Maupin and does not fall in love has something wrong with them. And any writer who encounters that biography is likely to be struck by two conflicting thoughts: “I must write about her!� and “Nobody would find her believable as a fictional character!�
When I ran across a reference to Gardiner’s novel, my finger hit “buy� so quickly I may have sprained it. But it took me a while to work up the courage to read the book. What angle had Gardiner taken on her protagonist? How had she treated d’Aubigny’s bisexuality? (The most famous fictional treatment of her by Gautier falls solidly in the “sordid decadence� genre.) Would the book focus solely on d’Aubigny’s transgressive gender and sexuality? Or would it provide a deep, rich look at a complex figure? I can’t pretend to an objective opinion, but I will begin by saying that I enjoyed the book very much and my heart was not broken by it.
Goddess clearly aims for the literary fiction genre, as opposed to all the other possible genres the story might inhabit. While the historic setting is solid, it doesn’t feel like the focus of the novel—more like the vehicle. Gardiner enjoys playing games with voice and mode, and fortunately is deft enough at them that the prose doesn’t get in the way of the characters. The chapters alternate between d’Aubigny’s monologue to the priest who has been sent for her deathbed confession (thus eliminating a certain amount of suspense for those not already familiar with her early death) and passages in a third person present tense that fill in the details of her life. This technique sometimes plays at the edges of confusion, particularly when d’Aubigny’s disguises are presented externally through viewpoints that take the disguise at face value. But the alternations in voice always tie us back into the narrative.
I was quite a ways into the story before I could relax about how d’Aubigny’s sexuality would be portrayed. In the initial chapters, her liaisons with men—often based more on pragmatism than desire—are the focus, and her desire for women is depicted either as tragically unfulfilled (in the escapade with her first girlfriend in the convent) or conveyed only through teasing innuendo in her narration to her confessor. But never fear, we get unambiguous (though never sordid) descriptions of her relationships with women, from the Comtesse who taught her how to make love, to the close sisterhood of opera singers, to the Marquise who becomes the great love of her life. Yet the several men who combine the roles of friend and lover are also sympathetically portrayed. My impression is that those who are looking for well-depicted historic bisexual characters will find as much to enjoy as I did.
There is an air of the picaresque novel here—not surprisingly. A biography is hard to fit into the outlines of an over-arching plot, and it’s enough to turn the jumble of episodes from d’Aubigny’s life into a single coherent narrative without trying to find deeper meaning. Gardiner has nudged the story to greater coherence by the fiction (I believe) of combining two characters: the woman she fought three duels over, precipitating her exile to Brussels, and the Marquise de Florensac, her greatest love.
Gardiner has done a masterful job of turning d’Aubigny into a believable, three-dimensional character. One who is flamboyant, unrepentant, and larger than life, but with flaws and motivations that unify the disparate elements of her life. If you—like me—are desperate for a detailed, definitive, scholarly biography of Julie d’Aubigny, this fictional treatment of her life may help you hold on in the mean time.
When I ran across a reference to Gardiner’s novel, my finger hit “buy� so quickly I may have sprained it. But it took me a while to work up the courage to read the book. What angle had Gardiner taken on her protagonist? How had she treated d’Aubigny’s bisexuality? (The most famous fictional treatment of her by Gautier falls solidly in the “sordid decadence� genre.) Would the book focus solely on d’Aubigny’s transgressive gender and sexuality? Or would it provide a deep, rich look at a complex figure? I can’t pretend to an objective opinion, but I will begin by saying that I enjoyed the book very much and my heart was not broken by it.
Goddess clearly aims for the literary fiction genre, as opposed to all the other possible genres the story might inhabit. While the historic setting is solid, it doesn’t feel like the focus of the novel—more like the vehicle. Gardiner enjoys playing games with voice and mode, and fortunately is deft enough at them that the prose doesn’t get in the way of the characters. The chapters alternate between d’Aubigny’s monologue to the priest who has been sent for her deathbed confession (thus eliminating a certain amount of suspense for those not already familiar with her early death) and passages in a third person present tense that fill in the details of her life. This technique sometimes plays at the edges of confusion, particularly when d’Aubigny’s disguises are presented externally through viewpoints that take the disguise at face value. But the alternations in voice always tie us back into the narrative.
I was quite a ways into the story before I could relax about how d’Aubigny’s sexuality would be portrayed. In the initial chapters, her liaisons with men—often based more on pragmatism than desire—are the focus, and her desire for women is depicted either as tragically unfulfilled (in the escapade with her first girlfriend in the convent) or conveyed only through teasing innuendo in her narration to her confessor. But never fear, we get unambiguous (though never sordid) descriptions of her relationships with women, from the Comtesse who taught her how to make love, to the close sisterhood of opera singers, to the Marquise who becomes the great love of her life. Yet the several men who combine the roles of friend and lover are also sympathetically portrayed. My impression is that those who are looking for well-depicted historic bisexual characters will find as much to enjoy as I did.
There is an air of the picaresque novel here—not surprisingly. A biography is hard to fit into the outlines of an over-arching plot, and it’s enough to turn the jumble of episodes from d’Aubigny’s life into a single coherent narrative without trying to find deeper meaning. Gardiner has nudged the story to greater coherence by the fiction (I believe) of combining two characters: the woman she fought three duels over, precipitating her exile to Brussels, and the Marquise de Florensac, her greatest love.
Gardiner has done a masterful job of turning d’Aubigny into a believable, three-dimensional character. One who is flamboyant, unrepentant, and larger than life, but with flaws and motivations that unify the disparate elements of her life. If you—like me—are desperate for a detailed, definitive, scholarly biography of Julie d’Aubigny, this fictional treatment of her life may help you hold on in the mean time.
September 18, 2021
Julie d'Aubigny or as she's known by La Maupin, was a woman who lived in 17th Century France. I was astonished to learn that this lady was a real historical figure! Very clever of the author to depict her life through her eyes as a fictionalized biography.
I'm drawn towards historical fiction novels especially the narrative driven by women and who doesn't wanna read a tale about a swashbuckling and opera singer heroine who is a woman ahead of time, trying to juggle a career, love, tragedy, friendships, and so on?
I fell in love with her wit and dry humour, certainly not afraid of speaking her mind with brutal honesty. Awesome! I was laughing already in the first chapter, brilliantly written by Kelly Gardiner! I love how she wasn't apologetic (nor should she!) or secretive about her sexuality and was at peace with it, how she dealt with the discrimination and fear in 17th Century, France.
Even though Kelly Gardiner did her research with this novel (it shows!) but a lot is still left unknown for sure about Julie d'Aubigny's inner thoughts and feelings, this is lost to history, though I did enjoy this imaginative retelling of this unconventional yet very passionate and intelligent woman.
I'm drawn towards historical fiction novels especially the narrative driven by women and who doesn't wanna read a tale about a swashbuckling and opera singer heroine who is a woman ahead of time, trying to juggle a career, love, tragedy, friendships, and so on?
I fell in love with her wit and dry humour, certainly not afraid of speaking her mind with brutal honesty. Awesome! I was laughing already in the first chapter, brilliantly written by Kelly Gardiner! I love how she wasn't apologetic (nor should she!) or secretive about her sexuality and was at peace with it, how she dealt with the discrimination and fear in 17th Century, France.
Even though Kelly Gardiner did her research with this novel (it shows!) but a lot is still left unknown for sure about Julie d'Aubigny's inner thoughts and feelings, this is lost to history, though I did enjoy this imaginative retelling of this unconventional yet very passionate and intelligent woman.
January 12, 2019
It took me awhile to decide on the rating for this as it took me awhile to read this, I had a few months long break in the middle of the book so was going to go with 3 stars. However just finished the final third of the book and am having emotions so decided to go with 4 stars. I chose to read this cos wanted to read more queer books and the historical figure has interested me for awhile and this was a fascinating interpretation of Julie's life. I tend to avoid books where the queer characters die because I am Weak, however this felt much more like a celebration of a very eventful life filled with interesting characters and I enjoyed it more than I expected. Slightly struggled with the style of writing being someone's thought process and this is the main reason it took me awhile to finish, but I do think that it was the right way to write this story and it worked well in the end :D
March 21, 2019
The fascinating characterization of La Maupin (Julie d'Aubigny) in was slightly overshadowed by discordant storytelling. The alternating points of view could have served as an efficient way to move the plot along, however this strategy fell short as the first person POV chapters were wordy, repetitive and had no discernible tie-in to the forthcoming chapter.
The strongest part, and arguably the most important, is La Maupin herself. Her life experiences provide the bones to this book and it's what kept me coming back for more despite my annoyance with the writing. The prose and writing style was not executed as well as it could have been, but as ever, La Maupin is a goddess and I couldn't take my eyes of her.
The strongest part, and arguably the most important, is La Maupin herself. Her life experiences provide the bones to this book and it's what kept me coming back for more despite my annoyance with the writing. The prose and writing style was not executed as well as it could have been, but as ever, La Maupin is a goddess and I couldn't take my eyes of her.
December 3, 2021
2/5. I’m obsessed with Julie d’Aubigny’s life and it was definitely interesting to learn more about her through reading this book. However, that’s all I felt this book did. The sense of story and character was lost to plain fact retelling. Her life was exciting but without any overarching plot there was nothing to pull you in. Her sense of self was lost to the romanticised idea of her, as someone unreachable and unknowable. While it’s a lovely idea, it’s not a character that feels human and relatable. There was nothing to connect with.
It was a good historical account but sadly not a good book.
It was a good historical account but sadly not a good book.
January 24, 2020
Engaging to read, a heroine of days long past!
October 9, 2018
“Goddess� is a historical novel based on the real-life figure Julie d’Aubigny a breeches-wearin�, swash bucklin�, bi-swingin� opera singer who lived in 16th century France. The book is told in alternating chapters from La Maupin’s deathbed. Dying of consumption, she recounts how she basically did whatever the hell she wanted in her short but exciting life.
The book is a little on the long side and the writing a bit mediocre. But Gardiner portrays La Maupin in such an utterly charming, woman-roaring way that I had loads of fun reading this book and imagining all of Julie’s exploits and heartbreaks.
The book is a little on the long side and the writing a bit mediocre. But Gardiner portrays La Maupin in such an utterly charming, woman-roaring way that I had loads of fun reading this book and imagining all of Julie’s exploits and heartbreaks.
October 5, 2015
You could not make this stuff up - a bisexual Frenchwoman, master fencer, opera star, and even sometime nun. And that's enough review. What, not enough to convince you?
Gardiner puts the words in Julie d'Aubigny's own mouth more than once - you really couldn't make up her story. Reading this novel is worth it just to learn about a real historical figure who didn't bend to convention or sacrifice her individuality at all. I think it's safe to say that she was one of a kind and that the world will never see anyone quite like her again. I would recommend this just on the merits of the historical inspiration alone.
A bit about the style, which is almost as unique as the subject matter - Gardiner has styled the novel as if Julie is looking back on her life and telling the story to a priest as a final confession (though she makes it clear she doesn't feel the need to atone for her sins to God). The story is in 5 "acts" like an opera, with different scenes in the form of duets, minuets, recitatives, etc. Even if you're not familiar with opera, you'll quickly be able to anticipate the style of the chapter based on the type of scene. (Duets are about romantic dalliances, minuets often involve the viewpoint of the public, recitatives are Julie "confessing" to the priest...) Seriously, A+ to Gardiner for originality of idea and execution as well. The one thing that I foresee voyeuristic readers complaining about is lack of detail, though it fits perfectly with the format she chose. Because Julie is telling her own story, she doesn't need to describe her sexual encounters, duels, and other life events with the level of detail you'd normally expect from historical fiction. Even the little detail she does provide often ends with her interrupting herself to tell the priest to stop blushing. She doesn't linger on the details because she knows them - she's working out what she needs to atone for as she approaches her death. I've seen several reviews that suggest Julie is self-centered and very "me me me," but really, that's the point of a deathbed confession, isn't it?
Totally unique heroine, totally unique narrative format. Great easy read for the literary reader.
The fine print: received ARC from Edelweiss.
Gardiner puts the words in Julie d'Aubigny's own mouth more than once - you really couldn't make up her story. Reading this novel is worth it just to learn about a real historical figure who didn't bend to convention or sacrifice her individuality at all. I think it's safe to say that she was one of a kind and that the world will never see anyone quite like her again. I would recommend this just on the merits of the historical inspiration alone.
A bit about the style, which is almost as unique as the subject matter - Gardiner has styled the novel as if Julie is looking back on her life and telling the story to a priest as a final confession (though she makes it clear she doesn't feel the need to atone for her sins to God). The story is in 5 "acts" like an opera, with different scenes in the form of duets, minuets, recitatives, etc. Even if you're not familiar with opera, you'll quickly be able to anticipate the style of the chapter based on the type of scene. (Duets are about romantic dalliances, minuets often involve the viewpoint of the public, recitatives are Julie "confessing" to the priest...) Seriously, A+ to Gardiner for originality of idea and execution as well. The one thing that I foresee voyeuristic readers complaining about is lack of detail, though it fits perfectly with the format she chose. Because Julie is telling her own story, she doesn't need to describe her sexual encounters, duels, and other life events with the level of detail you'd normally expect from historical fiction. Even the little detail she does provide often ends with her interrupting herself to tell the priest to stop blushing. She doesn't linger on the details because she knows them - she's working out what she needs to atone for as she approaches her death. I've seen several reviews that suggest Julie is self-centered and very "me me me," but really, that's the point of a deathbed confession, isn't it?
Totally unique heroine, totally unique narrative format. Great easy read for the literary reader.
The fine print: received ARC from Edelweiss.
January 1, 2015
Kelly Gardiner’s Goddess is an engaging version of the life of La Maupin, Julie d’Aubigny, in 17th Century France. Julie is beautiful, smart, witty and feisty. This fictional account of her last confession (and basically retelling of her life) grabs the reader’s attention right from the get-go.
“Don’t hover in the doorway like that. Come in or piss off � I don’t care either way. Who the hell are you?�
This is how Julie greets the priest confessor in the first lines of the novel � and it sets the tone for the rest of the book really well. It is clear that Julie does not suffer fools gladly and she has confidence to burn. The road Julie travelled to become the famed swashbuckling opera singer, La Maupin, is full of twists, turns, heartbreak and humour and I thought Gardiner nailed her tone throughout. Julie learns to adapt to her surroundings quickly and learns that her looks are to be her fortune and her curse very early on. Despite her strong persona, there is always the feeling that just under the surface she is very fragile and on a knife edge emotionally. It is a great depiction of an enigmatic historical figure.
It is clear that Kelly Gardiner did extensive research for this book- even down to which operatic works La Maupin performed and where she performed them. You can check out this blog to learn more about La Maupin’s life here. I started reading this book having catalogued it into our Senior Fiction collection at work, but now realise it is definitely for a young adult/adult audience! The language, whilst completely in context, is quite prolific and the relationships in the novel are most certainly for a more mature reader.
I found this a most enjoyable read � this one is definitely for the grown-ups and would suit those who like historical fiction with a bit of romance and adventure thrown in. I look forward to reading Kelly’s next project with avid interest.
“Don’t hover in the doorway like that. Come in or piss off � I don’t care either way. Who the hell are you?�
This is how Julie greets the priest confessor in the first lines of the novel � and it sets the tone for the rest of the book really well. It is clear that Julie does not suffer fools gladly and she has confidence to burn. The road Julie travelled to become the famed swashbuckling opera singer, La Maupin, is full of twists, turns, heartbreak and humour and I thought Gardiner nailed her tone throughout. Julie learns to adapt to her surroundings quickly and learns that her looks are to be her fortune and her curse very early on. Despite her strong persona, there is always the feeling that just under the surface she is very fragile and on a knife edge emotionally. It is a great depiction of an enigmatic historical figure.
It is clear that Kelly Gardiner did extensive research for this book- even down to which operatic works La Maupin performed and where she performed them. You can check out this blog to learn more about La Maupin’s life here. I started reading this book having catalogued it into our Senior Fiction collection at work, but now realise it is definitely for a young adult/adult audience! The language, whilst completely in context, is quite prolific and the relationships in the novel are most certainly for a more mature reader.
I found this a most enjoyable read � this one is definitely for the grown-ups and would suit those who like historical fiction with a bit of romance and adventure thrown in. I look forward to reading Kelly’s next project with avid interest.
July 20, 2016
Real Rating 3.5 out of 5 stars
I really, really, really love La Maupin so I've been trying to get my hands on anything with her in it but I've only been able to find a grand total of ONE fiction novel based on her life - this one. Fortunately, my reading experience with this was more positive then not, though it wasn't the best novel I've ever read.
In the beginning, I personally found the alternating chapter perspectives more of a detriment then a positive, keeping me from getting invested in the story right away. Just when I was getting into the flow and getting used to the voice that was being established, it was interrupted. I also found many of the chapters in the first half of the book from Julie's perspective to be repetitive and I much preferred the chapters in the first half that were written from a third person perspective. However, the further through the book you go, the better they get; becoming much less repetitive and offering a more nuanced look at the big events of her life. They also do a really good job of establishing her personality. In particular, I found the chapters where she was talking about her losing her two of her biggest lovers, the strongest of all. I also loved the way the theatre life was described and way La Maupin's enigma was established in the third person perspective chapters.
I went from struggling through the first third of the book to growing more and more invested, probably a combination of getting used to the alternating voices and the sheer awesomeness of Julie d'Aubigny's life. As I entered the final stretch, I definitely did not want it to end and was left wanting more (and left wishing we knew today where she was buried).
I really, really, really love La Maupin so I've been trying to get my hands on anything with her in it but I've only been able to find a grand total of ONE fiction novel based on her life - this one. Fortunately, my reading experience with this was more positive then not, though it wasn't the best novel I've ever read.
In the beginning, I personally found the alternating chapter perspectives more of a detriment then a positive, keeping me from getting invested in the story right away. Just when I was getting into the flow and getting used to the voice that was being established, it was interrupted. I also found many of the chapters in the first half of the book from Julie's perspective to be repetitive and I much preferred the chapters in the first half that were written from a third person perspective. However, the further through the book you go, the better they get; becoming much less repetitive and offering a more nuanced look at the big events of her life. They also do a really good job of establishing her personality. In particular, I found the chapters where she was talking about her losing her two of her biggest lovers, the strongest of all. I also loved the way the theatre life was described and way La Maupin's enigma was established in the third person perspective chapters.
I went from struggling through the first third of the book to growing more and more invested, probably a combination of getting used to the alternating voices and the sheer awesomeness of Julie d'Aubigny's life. As I entered the final stretch, I definitely did not want it to end and was left wanting more (and left wishing we knew today where she was buried).
January 28, 2016
This was pretty good, it was written in an interesting format, where the protagonist was confessing/dictating her life to a monk (who seems thoroughly uninteresting and judge-y throughout the book, given her reactions to him), and that's how the story is told.
I did really like the protagonist, Julie, because she was an anomaly to those around her, and was constantly being underestimated simply because she was a woman. Rather than banging on the walls of a system that would never accept her for who she was, rather, she used it to her advantage to catch people off-guard. She always had an escape plan, and it was interesting to read how she got out of certain situations.
It is kind of sad, because the reason she's doing this at all is because she's sick and on the verge of death (not really a spoiler, because it almost starts with her talking about that), but it is worth the read.
I did really like the protagonist, Julie, because she was an anomaly to those around her, and was constantly being underestimated simply because she was a woman. Rather than banging on the walls of a system that would never accept her for who she was, rather, she used it to her advantage to catch people off-guard. She always had an escape plan, and it was interesting to read how she got out of certain situations.
It is kind of sad, because the reason she's doing this at all is because she's sick and on the verge of death (not really a spoiler, because it almost starts with her talking about that), but it is worth the read.
December 27, 2015
There aren't many books on Julie D'Aubigny out there, fictional or factual, so it was a happy coincidence when I stumbled across this in my local library. I probably would have preferred to find a biography, but I soon found out there aren't actually any published in English. Kelly Gardiner's book is probably the next best thing for someone who wants to learn about D'Aubigny's astonishing life. She has written a thesis on the subject (which I might now try and track down) and the book contains a post script in which she lists all the things she invented or embellished in the novel.
I thought the format she chose to tell the story worked well, and one detail I particularly liked was how she titled each chapter with recitative/aria/duet etc as the contents of the chapter dictated.
I thought the format she chose to tell the story worked well, and one detail I particularly liked was how she titled each chapter with recitative/aria/duet etc as the contents of the chapter dictated.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 179 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.