In 1314, Verona’s master, Cangrande della Scala, extends patronage to Dante Alighieri, who has been banished from Florence, and his two surviving sons, Pietro, seventeen, and Jacopo, fourteen. The poet has recently published Inferno, to great renown and no little fear of heresy or impiety. But della Scala quickly realizes that Dante’s not the only gifted member of the family, nor the most useful.

Rather, he fixes on Pietro, who longs to escape his father’s shadow (while hoping pater will actually notice him one day and approve). And when Pietro falls in with two other youths — one noble, one from a merchant family pretending nobility — military adventure offers. Della Scala, a twenty-three-year-old wunderkind, dreams of uniting Italy under his banner. His approach to war, diplomacy, and familial politics has much to do with an ancient prophecy that says a figure called the Greyhound will realize that far-fetched scheme. He’s magnetic, generous, and apparently scrupulous, a rare combination. Pietro’s enthralled, and his passion takes him places, often alongside his new friends, the first he’s ever had in his life.

Between the derring-do, battle scenes, court intrigue, and the question of occupying many thinkers on the cusp of the Renaissance — do the stars foretell fate, or does free will have influence? —The Master of Verona makes for epic adventure. The thrumming plot, larger-than-life characters and perilous twists and turns evoke an approach like that of Dumas. The pages turn rapidly, numerous though they are. Astrology, poetry, chivalry, prophecy, and love figure here, all entertaining subjects, and I enjoy many of the characters, who take them seriously.

Besides Pietro and della Scala’s sister, Katerina, I particularly like Dante himself, who unfortunately drops out of the narrative. Blixt portrays him as a self-absorbed narcissist conscious of his genius who has little time for his children, except when they disappoint him. The exception? His daughter, Antonia, who, at thirteen, keeps the booksellers in line and acts as self-appointed caretaker of her father’s career. In letters, he calls her Beatrice, which she treasures. Katerina and Antonia are women ahead of their time, seeking power and influence denied them because of their gender.

Otherwise, the novel has wars, a horse race through the streets, trysts, duels, and every action conceivable. Not all are credible, and Pietro’s powers can test belief, especially as he’s received little schooling in the martial arts; but never mind. As an added conceit, Shakespearean characters and situations waft through the narrative, whether the plays belong to Vienna Romeo and Juliet), or not (Othello, Macbeth, Much Ado About Nothing). Note that Blixt is an actor and director, and you can tell: His approach is theatrical, to say the least.

As a storyteller, he offers brio, panache, and a command of historical detail, sometimes wielded with a trowel, drawing back the authorial focus and distancing the reader. This narrative technique, which can seem static, undermines the drive he achieves with the storyline and makes you work to stay connected. The author also indulges in information dumps, swelling the dialogue with facts and background, at which the reader’s eye grows impatient. Or this reader’s does. If these facts matter to the story, and I’m not sure they always do, better to show them through action, rather than have people explain them to each other.

I doubt fourteenth-century people, or those anytime, would speak the way Blixt has it, unless they’re all pedants. Then again, these folk often think like moderns, however intently they hew to the philosophical framework of their era. Present-day vocabulary dots the dialogue, and when characters discourse on various subjects, they occasionally refer to knowledge that lies in the future. They also speak incorrect French, admittedly a minor quibble, though indicative of carelessness of writer or editor that emerges elsewhere.

But it’s the discursive, lecturing quality that hampers the novel most. The final chapters are particularly striking for that, as the narrative struggles to wrap up convolutions and contradictions through speechmaking. It’s an unsatisfying, melodramatic conclusion.

For a wild, evocative ride, in which action carries the day, The Master of Verona makes for entertaining reading. Less would have achieved more. ( )

En 1314, el poeta Dante, entonces desterrado y de triste fama, y sus dos hijos, Pietro Alaghieri de diecisiete años, y su hermano menor, Jacopo («Poco»), viajan a Verona por invitación de su autoridad principal, el legendario Francesco Cangrande della Scala. Un ataque sorpresa hace intervenir a Pietro casi de inmediato en su primera batalla, y lo convierte en partícipe de las confidencias del carismático Cangrande, a la vez que comienza una estrecha amistad con Mariotto (Mari) Montecchio y Antonio Capuletto. Sin embargo, fuerzas ocultas conspiran contra Cangrande: una serie de atentados para terminar con la vida de un niño que se cree que es el hijo ilegítimo y posible heredero de Cangrande. A todas estas dificultades se suma la creciente rivalidad entre los mejores amigos de Pietro por una mujer que está prometida en matrimonio con uno de ellos, pero que ama al otro, incidente que romperá una amistad, dividirá a una ciudad y, finalmente, conducirá al romance trágico más conocido de la literatura.

Being already familiar with the story of Cangrande della Scala, I was keen to read this version of his life. So far, my interest has been maintained and I have not been at all disappointed with David's re-creation of this fascinating and turbulent period in Italian history.

For those familiar with Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet", here is the chance to read an interpretation of the "history" behind the play, and meet the real-life characters who inspired the Bard to put pen to paper.

But do not be deterred into thinking this is just a medieval romance - for where would a great story be without a cast of truly interesting characters; intrigue and drama; battles a-plenty; and life, love and death.

A must read - a looking forward for the next instalment in the "Star Cross'd" series. ( )

It was hard to follow. Very complicated with a lot of characters. Plus people were referred to by their name, first, last or nicknames. ( )

4.5 Stars

The Master of Verona, the first novel in David's Blixt's Star Cross'd trilogy, is an epic work of historical fiction set at the outset of the Italian Renaissance. At the centre of the novel is Pietro Alaghieri, son of the renowned poet Dante, a young man whose courage and steadfastness in battle bring him to the attention of Verona's much vaunted ruler, Cangrande della Scala. Trusted by both Cangrande and Cangrande's sister, Katerina, Pietro finds himself drawn deep into the political intrigues of his leader, including efforts to discover the mastermind behind a ruthless plot to kidnap Cangrande's infant heir. Pietro also finds himself caught in the increasing enmity developing between his two closest friends, a once inseparable pair who have fallen in love with the same woman. What follows is the start of a feud that will threaten the stability of Verona itself and will lead to the development of one of the greatest love stories of all-time.

This novel has many strengths, not the least of which are well-developed characters, an engaging storyline and rich detail that brings Northern Italy and its often warring City-States vividly to life. The novel's hero, Pietro, is easy to root for, as is his father Dante, whose genius with words is clearly evident. Cangrande, one of Renaissance Italy's greatest rulers, is characterized as a formidable warrior and brilliant strategist, making it easy to understand how he earns Pietro's respect and loyalty. Although billed as a novel about the origins of the Romeo & Juliet story, this aspect of the plot is in fact secondary to that of the much larger machinations of Cangrande's Verona. As a result, the foundation of the feud between the Montecchio's and the Capulletto's (aka the Montague's and the Capulet's) is successfully placed into the much larger political context of the era.

David Blixt's writing style is such that the book's numerous characters, their exploits and their often complicated and intertwined relationships can be followed with ease. In this respect, Blixt's writing is reminiscent of historical novelist Sharon Kay Penman's, and I encourage any fan of Penman's epic novels to give this book a try. Furthermore, Blixt's prose is of such quality that, despite being close to 600 pages long, the novel unfolds swiftly. The Master of Verona is followed by Voice of the Falconer and Fortune's Fool, both of which I am now eager to read.

Highly recommended to all fans of historical fiction.

Note: A copy of this novel was provided to me by David Blixt as part of his 5-book virtual book tour. ( )