Disobedient

by Elizabeth Fremantle

Genres: Biographical; Feminist; Renaissance

Synopsis

Brought to you by Penguin.

I'll show you what a woman can do . . .

Rome 1611.

A jewel-bright place of change, with sumptuous new palaces and lavish wealth on display. A city where women are seen but not heard.

Artemisia Gentileschi dreams of becoming a great artist. Motherless, she grows up among a family of painters - men and boys. She knows she is more talented than her brothers, but she cannot choose her own future. She wants to experience the world, but she belongs to her father and will belong to a husband.

As Artemisia patiently goes from lesson to lesson, perfecting her craft, she also paints in private, recreating the women who inspire her, away from her father's eyes.

Until a mysterious tutor enters her life. Tassi is a dashing figure, handsome and worldly, and for a moment he represents everything that a life of freedom might offer. But then the unthinkable happens.

In the eyes of her family, Artemisia should accept her fate. In the eyes of the law, she is the villain.

But Artemisia is a survivor. And this is her story to tell.

'An exhilarating read. Through effervescent prose, Elizabeth Fremantle brings the story of artist Artemisia Gentileschi to life. Gripping, captivating, and consistently enlightening, Disobedient firmly places Gentileschi as one of the greatest female heroines in history' KATY HESSEL

©2023 E C Fremantle (P)2023 Penguin Audio

Release date: August 1, 2023

Publisher: Pegasus Books

Print pages: 336

Sample

1. Beatrice Cenci

Rome, September 1599…

The studio smells of minerals and linseed. It is silent, save for the rhythmic grinding of the pestle and mortar as an assistant mills pigments at a bench: gaudy splats of colour, glossy with oil.

Artemisia sits motionless. She is trussed up uncomfortably, like a joint of mutton, in a puce silk dress that belongs to another girl. A loose wire in her jewelled headband torments her.

She musters all her self-discipline to keep still, waiting for the moment her father turns away to discuss something with the assistant. Quick as a fly, she digs her nails into her scalp – an instant of blessed relief.

‘Don’t move,’ he blasts. She snatches her hand back into position. It must be true, his warning that he has eyes in the back of his head. She squints at the dark hair hanging to his shoulders, wondering how those invisible eyes can see through such a mane.

She has taken the place of a child whose portrait he is finishing. Artemisia hasn’t seen the girl in real life but knows she is the Pope’s great-great-niece, or something like it. That is why she is wearing the elaborate, scratchy lace and jewels – so her father can add the final touches without ‘further imposing on the young lady’. She is very glad not to be the Pope’s great-great-niece and have to wear such uncomfortable things every day.

The quiet is shattered as the door bangs open and her father’s friend strides in, bellowing a greeting.

‘You’re early, Merisi.’ She can see her father’s irritation in the red flush blossoming on his cheeks. He is usually quick to temper but not with Merisi, or not to his face anyway. Behind his back he calls him ‘that vile miscreant’ and worse things she is not supposed to have overheard: ‘The devil’s taking all my commissions. Everyone calls him a genius. He’s not a genius, he’s a plague sore.’

‘Early? On the contrary’ – Merisi is wearing a grin – ‘we’ll miss all the fun if we don’t hurry.’ He steps towards Artemisia, removing his hat with a flourish and stooping into a deep bow. ‘Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio at your service, my lady.’

‘I’m not…’ She stops, unable to remember the Pope’s great-great-niece’s name. ‘It’s me, Arte –’ Realizing that Merisi is teasing, she laughs.

The angelus bells ring across the city. ‘See, it’s already noon.’ Merisi is animated. ‘Help your daughter out of that absurd dress and let’s go.’