THE VATICAN CHRONICLES SERIES: The Mystery of Julia Episcopa; The Anonymous Scribe; Silent Mistresses

THE MYSTERY OF JULIA EPISCOPA (The Vatican Chronicles #1)
JOHN I. RIGOLI & DIANE CUMMINGS
Kindle edition (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$5.99 available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: In ancient Rome, a woman flees for her life. Her enemies are those she once called 'brother'.

Hidden beneath her blue cloak are secrets men will kill for—forgeries that prove the newly self-appointed bishops are not followers of the way, but pretenders who have seized power and will stop at nothing to shape this new religion to their own ends. Now, Julia—a woman who had once walked with Mary Magdalene and taught alongside Paul must preserve the legacy of the apostles in the face of terrifying danger.

Two thousand years later, classical archaeologists Valentina Vella and Erika Simone are tasked with advising the newly-elected Pope on the historical legacy of women in the early Christian period.

The women stumble across an ancient parchment buried deep in the Vatican archives, a document that has clearly been altered. They find themselves on the trail of a woman who may have been the first woman Bishop in the Catholic faith. To reveal Julia's legacy will put them in the cross-hairs of a venomous Vatican battle for power and supremacy; to stay silent would make them complicit in an ancient heresy and would betray the teachings that Julia sacrificed her life to defend.

The Mystery of Julia Episcopa weaves seamlessly between modern day Rome and the politics of the Catholic church, and the times and life of a 1st century Roman noblewoman who rose to be a dominant force in the early Christian movement.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: I wonder if I'll ever get tired of Vatican-skulduggery stories. I hope not. Archaeology plus ancient history equaling a black eye for one of the greatest forces for evil ever devised by man...christianity as a whole is what I mean...in a present hag-ridden by its rotting zombie corpse never palls.

Two modern archaeologists, Erika and Valentina, discover suppressed evidence of a woman bishop's existence in early christian days. Setting out to discover what they can about her is obviously going to be fraught...the catholic church is hostile to the merest whisper of women in positions of power, triply so in its own hierarchy...and more dangerous than even that baseline because their funding comes from a mustachio-twirling baddie in the form of Cardinal Ricci, a Central Casting Villain of the most amusingly OTT sort.

The generally christian-positive message of Julia Lucinia Aquiliana coming to be Julia Episcopa is tied up with the most famous moment in Roman history: Vesuvius erupting and burying Pompeii in 79CE. It acts as the major, defining moment of the past timeline in the novel, and in the present as the moment these two woman archaeologists understand what they have on their hands: The literal smoking...gun, you should forgive, in the quest to prove women have been calculatedly written out of church history.

This being my own assumption about history more broadly, I'm all invested and on board.

Still and all, this is a literary pleasure for me, and its positive religious overtones put me off.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



THE ANONYMOUS SCRIBE (The Vatican Chronicles #2)
JOHN I. RIGOLI & DIANE CUMMINGS
Kindle edition (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$5.99, available now

Rating: 3* of five

The Publisher Says: When the lie is two thousand years old, who, exactly, will the truth set free?

While analyzing parchment fragments from the Dead Sea Scrolls, grad student Susan Bauer pieces together text that indicates the existence of a stolen Secret Temple Scroll that was penned decades before the gospels. If discovered, this document could free the Jewish people from the centuries’-long blemish that they are responsible for Yeshua’s death.

It could also turn Christianity on its head.

From the basement of the Israeli Museum to a basilica in a picturesque French village to the ruins of Herculaneum, ex-Mossad Yigael Dorian and blacklisted archaeologists Valentina Vella and Erika Simone journey on a transcontinental chase, dodging thieves, kidnappers, cardinals, and enlisting mobsters to uncover the truth behind this rumored scroll.

It is the writer of this document, however, who has the final word in a mesmerizing depiction of life in the Galilee alongside Yeshua.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: I got a lot less invested in the Intrepid Sleuths' archaeological skulduggery when we moved into territory that presumes the figure at the center of the lunatic belief system we call christianity was a living breathing human being.

There exists no shred of evidence of this. Inventing one for this story was a step past my personal suspension-of-disbelief line.

It is a testament to the writing chops of the authorial duo that I was compelled to keep reading, and that I give this story three whole stars. I am mightily opposed to everything this entry in the series is presenting, and irked by the certainty that some will think it's probable it represents some kind of truth. No matter; honesty insists that I rate it on its storytelling merits. Three stars.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



SILENT MISTRESSES (The Vatican Chronicles #3)
JOHN I. RIGOLI & DIANE CUMMINGS with Lisa Cerasoli
Kindle edition (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$5.99, available now

Rating: 3* of five

The Publisher Says: A Vatican Bank cover-up. A devout whistleblower. A Church with everything to lose.

Sister Maria Caruso was sent to the Vatican Bank to modernize its systems—not to unearth secrets worth killing for. But when a €30 million discrepancy leads her to a web of hidden accounts, she stumbles onto something far more dangerous than embezzlement.

The money was only the surface. What it concealed runs far deeper. For decades, powerful men within the Church have used secret funds to protect private sins—names that must never be named, affairs that break more than vows—a history the Vatican is willing to bury—along with anyone who gets too close.

As Maria begins to pull on the thread, she becomes a target. Trapped inside the very institution she once trusted, her only weapon is the technology the Church has long dismissed. Her only choice? Stay silent and survive—or expose the truth and risk everything.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: Okay. We're switching gears. No more archaeology, now we're in computer forensics and accountancy.

I quit caring. The Banco Ambrosiano scandal took place in my adulthood and, as I thought then, represented an iceberg's tip of the real story.

While nice enough to read as a mystery, the topic was not what I expected it to be or wanted to read about. The authors, as assisted, turned out a run-of-the-mill crime story with stakes I just could not invest in. Three stars for competency. None for my personal enjoyment.

EROMENOS, the love/hate of Antinous for Hadrian told at last

EROMENOS
MELANIE J. MCDONALD
Seriously Good Books (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Eros and Thanatos converge in the story of a glorious youth, an untimely death, and an imperial love affair that gives rise to the last pagan god of antiquity. In this coming-of-age novel set in the second century AD, Antinous of Bithynia, a Greek youth from Asia Minor, recounts his seven-year affair with Hadrian, fourteenth emperor of Rome. In a partnership more intimate than Hadrian's sanctioned political marriage to Sabina, Antinous captivates the most powerful ruler on earth both in life and after death. This version of the affair between the emperor and his beloved ephebe vindicates the youth scorned by early Christian church fathers as a "shameless and scandalous boy" and "sordid and loathsome instrument of his master's lust." EROMENOS envisions the personal history of the young man who achieved apotheosis as a pagan god of antiquity, whose cult of worship lasted for hundreds of years far longer than the cult of the emperor Hadrian.

In EROMENOS, the young man Antinous, whose beautiful image still may be found in works of art in museums around the world, finds a voice of his own at last.

I RECEIVED A REVIEW COPY FROM THE AUTHOR. THANK YOU.

My Review: There have been books aplenty about, and even in the voice of, Hadrian the Emperor of Rome, but so far as I know none in the voice of his beloved Antinous of Bithynia. Antinous is portrayed in this book as he reflects on his life at its end. How and why his life is ending, if one isn't familiar with the story, is a question still of some interest to scholars, who don't have a solid consensus about causes and motivations. Hey, it's almost 2,000 years ago! No one knows *any*thing for sure at that distance in time. But Melanie McDonald creates a composed, mature voice for this important and vital character in her novel, titled after the Greek word describing Antinous's relationship to Hadrian. The course of Antinous's life, the exciting events in it, and the reasons for his long tenure as Hadrian's eromenos, are presented in swift, sure prose; the inevitable, it would seem, conclusion is very nicely handled; and the narrative frame, the temple offering of a manuscript in Serapis's sacrificial fire, gives the book a very agreeable frisson of the supernatural.

This is a first novel for both author and publisher. The degree to which this surprises me is a testament to the very high design, production, and editorial standards the publisher adhered to. I think the book is very, very well-conceived, but I know that it owes a great deal to the vision of a small, new publishing venture that it came out at all, and that it looks and feels so good in its present form.

Experiencing the joy, pain, humiliation, love, lust, and hate that Antinous feels for his old-man lover is extraordinary. That the author is a married straight lady (among other things, she was a Hawthornden Fellow in 2008 to work on this very book) makes me think she's channeling a past life! (That was a joke, Ms. McD, should you chance to read this review...I think it is, anyway....)

The book posits a reason for the mysterious death of Antinous, an event that caused Hadrian such acute agony that his final eight years were spent in a kind of mourning haze for his lost love, that had not occurred to me...an explanation that accounts for some of the strangeness of the timing of his death, which has always made me think that the hints and rumors of murder were just off. It's a valid reason, or complex of reasons, and it rings true enough that I wish it were possible to research it. (Absent time travel to the past, an unlikely development, it isn't. Drat you, Albert Einstein! I bitterly resent being poked in the back by Time's Arrow!)

My quibbles are few, the largest being that I find references made by Antinous to Christianity to be extremely unlikely to be accurate; a minor Jewish cult would not have made the radar screens of a person at such a rareified remove from ancient Palestine's nasty, squabbling inhabitants; the Christians hadn't made it big enough yet for someone not Palestinian to know the things Antinous is portrayed as knowing.

It didn't ruin the book for me, though, and I certainly hope you'll all zip right out to Amazon or somewhere and get a copy of this beautiful, well-written, and very engrossing story.

THE COMEDIAN, a fully explanatory title for a theater novel set in Ancient Rome

THE COMEDIAN
CLEM MARTINI
University of Calgary Press
$5.45 trade paper at Amazon or $24.99 via the publisher, $5.18 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 3.5* of five

The Publisher Says: (from Goodreads) Titus Maccius Plautus' career is on the decline. Once renowned for bringing Greek comedies to the Roman world, now he struggles to stage a single play. Unlucky with money and unlucky in love, Plautus faces the world with wry dignity. This could be the performance that brings back fame and fortune, or the one that ends it all.

Engaging, thoughtful, and funny, The Comedian dives into the rough and tumble world of arts in its infancy. Clem Martini draws on his talent and experience to bring to life the signs and sounds of a world where playwrights suffered and succeeded--but mostly suffered.

(from the book's webpage) In the Roman Republic, comedy is a serious business. Nobody knows this better than Titus Maccius Plautus, the principal comic playwright of his time. Licking his wounds after a series of artistic flops and financial disasters, Plautus returns from his refuge in the country to Rome, desperate to produce a new play.

With limited financial backing provided by tough and striking bar owner Casina, Plautus recruits a company of actors from the amateurs and cast-offs he can afford. Led by a disreputable drunk who just happens to have a pedigree with one of the most respected traveling Greek acting guilds, the motley company unites an eccentric cast of characters on and off the stage. From Orestes, Plautus’ dour, thrifty director to the eager but untrained neophyte, Fronto, to the debt-plagued Plautus himself, each has a role to play, and each is not quite what they seem.

Can this company of misfits come together in time – and remain together long enough – to find success on the stage? With his creditors closing in, can Plautus stay one step ahead, or will he be finished, once and for all? Redolent with the sights and scents of the ancient world, this novel is a rowdy, boisterous ride through the realm of theater in its infancy.

THE PUBLISHER GAVE ME A DRC OF THIS BOOK THROUGH EDELWEISS. THANK YOU.

My Review: I salute you, Clem Martini, for taking a lifetime's interest in theater, its history and its incredible impact on each of us, and turning it into yet more (thirty plays authored and/or produced, standard texts on theatrical history authored, a graphic memoir with his older brother as artist) than you could reasonably be expected to. Plautus would approve: humor, tension, a spicing of sex, and an ending to break a smile on the reader's face.

"I admit," {the elderly actor} says, "I got a little lost—"

"A little??"

"—for a moment," he allows, "for a few moments, but we recovered—"

"Recovered?" Orestes continues, his lips hitting each consonant. "Is that what you call it? Recovered? You," he says poking the old actor in the chest, "are an ancient, derelict billy goat, burping, farting, baaing, and in general eating up the scenery. If you were more intent upon your actions, your actions as we have rehearsed them, rather than upon preening for the audience, you wouldn't forget your lines. And by all that's holy, if you can't remember the lines, then at least improvise something clever. By Jupiter Maximus and all his punishing power, that stammering and umming and awing was pitiful."

If you've ever been in a play, you'll recognize every single beat of that peroration; if you haven't, you'll recognize that the author has and does. Bonus points to Author Martini for getting a good likeness of Plautus in his dialogue, as well.

Reflecting on the self-evident to writers impossibility of making others laugh, of conveying subtleties of meaning across language and time barriers, Martini's Plautus wryly says:

It's irksome how essentially untranslatable humour can prove. Lines that cause great hilarity in Greek lie down like sheep with colic, to sicken and die, in Latin.

So beautifully done...anyone who's tried to write, or translate, or perform humor gets it instantly; Plautus (and of necessity Martini) belongs to our fraternity; the bucolic ancestry of the Roman playwright is reinforced in such a way as to remind the reader of the temporal displacement of the story from us as well. After all, not a lot of twenty-first century people pull out sheep-death similes in pursuit of a point.

It isn't perfect. At times the impression is of reading a novelized play, with action taking place offstage or being relegated to "the chorus" to narrate:

Orestes urges me to keep writing, stay healthy, and abstain from garum. With that he claps me on the back, drains his cup, stands, and bids us both good night. Naevius nods as my Greek friend slips past him. I reflect as he leaves that there's always been a certain reserve between those two that I honestly don't understand. I know Orestes respects Naevius as a poet, and Naevius has praised Orestes's musical abilities to me many times. Still it's undeniable, there's tension when they sit together.

All of that reads as though it's stage directions and actor asides. It isn't bad, it isn't flawed in some way, but it distances the reader by removing us from the immediacy of experiencing the story with the characters (dialogue plus some of that narration) into straight narration of the story to us. Further distancing, at least for some very tradition-minded readers of my acquaintance, comes from Author Martini's use of non-standard dialogue tags:

"I think so," I admit.

He nods a moment, then takes another drink. "And you're satisfied with that?" he asks.

"What?" I reply.

This is one example among many where I found myself wishing that he'd simply left off these tags entirely. However, the times when they're useful, what's wrong with "said" and, when something's a question, simply allowing this dingus: "?" to alert the attentive reader that an interrogative tone is to be used in their sub-vocal verbalization? (See what I did there?) (Oops, did it again!)

However, that very quality of stageiness is used to marvelous effect when Plautus has the creative soul's inevitable Dark Night of Self-Doubt:

Let all the gods strip me naked and flail me with a leather lash if I ever pick up a wax tablet to write again, let the god Dionysus plunge me deep in a vat of wine and hold me under if I ever pick up a stylus again, I am done, I am done, by all the gods who ever pulled their togas aside to piss on humans, I am done with this.

Success or failure, triumph or humiliation, every single writer who has ever lived will recognize this moment. You're released from the divine madness of creation; the human side of you has no bloody clue what to do now, or next; and yet the chasm of Reality yawns at your feet and you're suddenly subject to gravity again. That. Rots. On. Ice.

The effect of the whole is, I think I've shown, engrossing and entertaining. Definitely recommended for classic-aged audiences and cautiously so for those of middle years. It's strong meat indeed Author Martini serves us, a taste of what we're in for, and that's probably not going to go down well with younger audiences (it made my Young Gentleman Caller cry):

The body is simply a leather mask that the spirit slips on when we are born. This is never so evident as when a person passes away, and you observe the shell stripped of its animating inner force.