What do you think?
Rate this book
LA ESCLAVA DE VESTA
Rare book
384 pages, Hardcover
First published September 30, 2008
7 people are currently reading
278 people want to read
About the author
Sherri Smith
17 books163 followersSherri Smith has previously written two historical fiction novels for Simon & Schuster UK. When not writing she spends time with her family, three rescue dogs and restores vintage furniture that would otherwise be destined for the dump. She lives in Winnipeg, Canada where the long, cold winters nurture her dark side. FOLLOW ME DOWN (Forge Books, March 2017) is her first thriller.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews
Read
December 4, 2013This book was ridiculously inaccurate. She just made stuff up, willy-nilly. None of the ceremonies were real, except one: the sacrifice of the pregnant cows. The real ceremonies were more interesting than the ones Smith invented. Vestal Virgins wore white clothing, their period had nothing to do with their cult, men were not allowed in the temple, the statue of Minerva was so sacred that it was hidden in the storeroom so no one could see it. They had more freedom than any woman in Rome, so they certainly didn't have rules about not having windows, not going into each other's rooms, or not having cats. Historians took very accurate and thorough records of their religious practices, so there is no reason to make things up.
October 11, 2009
I enjoyed this. My only complaint is that on page 231 she writes about tomatoes growing in Sicily. Since tomatoes came from Central/South America and were not seen in Europe until post-Columbus, this really threw me off for a few minutes! Rome did not see tomatoes for quite a few centuries after the time of this novel!
October 28, 2009
Welcome to a typical "forbidden fruit" romance scenario in an historical setting. Aemilia is a discontent vestal virgin who manages to fall in love with a man. Naturally, since the vestals must remain chaste, this is considered a bad thing, and so Aemilia is torn between her loyalty to Rome and her love of a slave determined to overthrow Rome. Drama!
Narrated from Aemilia's point of view, the story takes on an intensely personal tone. We feel Aemilia's loneliness, her sadness that her family just packed her away to become a vestal virgin, her sense of estrangement from the other vestals, who offer more squabbles than support. She grows from an uneasy child into an uneasy woman, never able to give herself entirely to Vesta like some of the vestals can, unwilling to throw herself into the politics of her group. It's easy to sympathize with Aemilia, to watch her take a lover and reflect on how unfair it is that she gets caught. But she does get caught; she does have to suffer the consequences. In the end, what does it all mean?
Despite Aemilia's strong voice, her relationships with her fellow vestals are somewhat one-dimensional. It's as if Sherri Smith made the other vestals a certain way in order to emphasize Aemilia's sensibleness. Alarm bells immediately went off in my head, and I thought of other books that do this—pump up the main caracter by surrounding him or her with less-than-ideal companions. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't enjoy having Aemilia as the narrator. She was just far too biased (and, as I'll later point out, unreliable). From this perspective, The Virgin's Tale becomes a "woe is me" tale instead of a "tragedy of a girl forced to become political scapegoat" tale that it could be. Suddenly the story becomes about what happens to Aemilia instead of how what happens to Aemilia reflects on the nature of the Republic of Rome.
The only other interesting character is Julia, who joins the vestal virgins after Aemilia. The two share friendship and rivalry for the first few years of their service, culminating in an awkward nighttime visit by Julia to Aemilia's room. Here was where the book could have diverged, could have become interesting by making Julia Aemilia's lover, and for a moment, I thought that would be the case. After all, nothing in the description says that Aemilia broke her vow of chastity for a man.
Alas, my hopes were not borne out. Aemilia falls for a household slave, Lysander, who claims to have been born in Greece but is actually just a half-Greek born into slavery in Rome. He is also plotting to overthrow Rome by supporting a patrician's plot while secretly raising a slave rebellion of his own. To Smith's credit, Lysander has enough brains that he's not all brawn—Aemilia and him do seem to fall in love. Still, it's a gooey, carefree sort of love that seems riskless even though Aemilia is, in fact, risking it all. But I'm sure it's OK because, you know, he makes her feel really, really good.
And in fact, depending on the interpretation of the ending, that element of risk completely evaporates. That Aemilia would be caught was never in doubt. The book begins with her being sealed into an underground tomb. However, we don't learn if she gets rescued until the very end. There's reason to believe that rescue may just be a hallucination though.
The part of me averse to happy endings thinks Lysander's rescue of Aemilia is a weak way to end this book. We were built up for tragedy right until the end, and to yank away Aemilia's tragic death and replace it with a happily-ever-after is the ultimate cheat. Truthfully, I also didn't care much for either Aemilia or Lysander, so I wasn't sad to see her go. Much better that she should die for love than escape because someone inexplicably put a door into the side of her tomb and Lysander happened to sneak to where she was buried and help dig her out. Right.
On the other hand, the ending could just be a dream. Aemilia demonstrates herself to be an unreliable narrator several times in this book, most notably with the way in which she fantasizes about Tullia leaving the vestal virgins after her 30 year term of service is up and marrying her lover. It turns out that Tullia was actually caught and executed, her fate identical to what would befall Aemilia. We only learn this at the very end of the book. This, combined with the fact that the method of Aemilia's rescue seems improbable, leads to me to think that it's a dream and not reality. The stress of Aemilia's capture, combined with the depleting oxygen in the room, finally makes her crack.
Since the ending ultimately depends on whether one considers Aemilia a reliable narrator, it's up to the reader how to interpret it. Neither ending substantially changes my opinion of the book. I suppose I should probably just avoid these sorts of historical romances in the future. I picked the book up because it's set in ancient Rome, and I like ancient Rome. It's unfair of me to expect the book to rise above its genre and give me something else, just as it's unfair for a Western reader to expect a fantasy novel not to have magic. Nevertheless, I can't bring myself to label an entire genre mediocre—and that's what The Virgin's Tale is—which leads me to conclude that there are certainly better books in this genre than this one. While it's a far cry from awful, The Virgin's Tale doesn't possess anything that makes it stand out.
Narrated from Aemilia's point of view, the story takes on an intensely personal tone. We feel Aemilia's loneliness, her sadness that her family just packed her away to become a vestal virgin, her sense of estrangement from the other vestals, who offer more squabbles than support. She grows from an uneasy child into an uneasy woman, never able to give herself entirely to Vesta like some of the vestals can, unwilling to throw herself into the politics of her group. It's easy to sympathize with Aemilia, to watch her take a lover and reflect on how unfair it is that she gets caught. But she does get caught; she does have to suffer the consequences. In the end, what does it all mean?
Despite Aemilia's strong voice, her relationships with her fellow vestals are somewhat one-dimensional. It's as if Sherri Smith made the other vestals a certain way in order to emphasize Aemilia's sensibleness. Alarm bells immediately went off in my head, and I thought of other books that do this—pump up the main caracter by surrounding him or her with less-than-ideal companions. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't enjoy having Aemilia as the narrator. She was just far too biased (and, as I'll later point out, unreliable). From this perspective, The Virgin's Tale becomes a "woe is me" tale instead of a "tragedy of a girl forced to become political scapegoat" tale that it could be. Suddenly the story becomes about what happens to Aemilia instead of how what happens to Aemilia reflects on the nature of the Republic of Rome.
The only other interesting character is Julia, who joins the vestal virgins after Aemilia. The two share friendship and rivalry for the first few years of their service, culminating in an awkward nighttime visit by Julia to Aemilia's room. Here was where the book could have diverged, could have become interesting by making Julia Aemilia's lover, and for a moment, I thought that would be the case. After all, nothing in the description says that Aemilia broke her vow of chastity for a man.
Alas, my hopes were not borne out. Aemilia falls for a household slave, Lysander, who claims to have been born in Greece but is actually just a half-Greek born into slavery in Rome. He is also plotting to overthrow Rome by supporting a patrician's plot while secretly raising a slave rebellion of his own. To Smith's credit, Lysander has enough brains that he's not all brawn—Aemilia and him do seem to fall in love. Still, it's a gooey, carefree sort of love that seems riskless even though Aemilia is, in fact, risking it all. But I'm sure it's OK because, you know, he makes her feel really, really good.
And in fact, depending on the interpretation of the ending, that element of risk completely evaporates. That Aemilia would be caught was never in doubt. The book begins with her being sealed into an underground tomb. However, we don't learn if she gets rescued until the very end. There's reason to believe that rescue may just be a hallucination though.
The part of me averse to happy endings thinks Lysander's rescue of Aemilia is a weak way to end this book. We were built up for tragedy right until the end, and to yank away Aemilia's tragic death and replace it with a happily-ever-after is the ultimate cheat. Truthfully, I also didn't care much for either Aemilia or Lysander, so I wasn't sad to see her go. Much better that she should die for love than escape because someone inexplicably put a door into the side of her tomb and Lysander happened to sneak to where she was buried and help dig her out. Right.
On the other hand, the ending could just be a dream. Aemilia demonstrates herself to be an unreliable narrator several times in this book, most notably with the way in which she fantasizes about Tullia leaving the vestal virgins after her 30 year term of service is up and marrying her lover. It turns out that Tullia was actually caught and executed, her fate identical to what would befall Aemilia. We only learn this at the very end of the book. This, combined with the fact that the method of Aemilia's rescue seems improbable, leads to me to think that it's a dream and not reality. The stress of Aemilia's capture, combined with the depleting oxygen in the room, finally makes her crack.
Since the ending ultimately depends on whether one considers Aemilia a reliable narrator, it's up to the reader how to interpret it. Neither ending substantially changes my opinion of the book. I suppose I should probably just avoid these sorts of historical romances in the future. I picked the book up because it's set in ancient Rome, and I like ancient Rome. It's unfair of me to expect the book to rise above its genre and give me something else, just as it's unfair for a Western reader to expect a fantasy novel not to have magic. Nevertheless, I can't bring myself to label an entire genre mediocre—and that's what The Virgin's Tale is—which leads me to conclude that there are certainly better books in this genre than this one. While it's a far cry from awful, The Virgin's Tale doesn't possess anything that makes it stand out.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 13, 2009
THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS
I liked the small details of Roman life in this book, but I do wonder how much of the ceremonial trappings, etc, were made up.
Otherwise, this was yet another story of how stifling the life of a sworn Vestal Virgin could have been, how horrible women can be to each other, and how we police each other more fiercely than the male sex (fair enough, but still horrible to read) and how Twue Wuv with one of said males can Redeem us.
Personally, I wish Aemilia had run off with Julia.
I liked the small details of Roman life in this book, but I do wonder how much of the ceremonial trappings, etc, were made up.
Otherwise, this was yet another story of how stifling the life of a sworn Vestal Virgin could have been, how horrible women can be to each other, and how we police each other more fiercely than the male sex (fair enough, but still horrible to read) and how Twue Wuv with one of said males can Redeem us.
Personally, I wish Aemilia had run off with Julia.
Read
July 27, 2011Interesting premisse but way too slow, reads like a textbook after awhile.
October 21, 2020
2.5/5
Okay. Okaaay.
En general el libro me gustó, creo que la idea principal es buena y la escritura de la autora (o, al menos, esta traducción) era agradable; sin embargo, hubo varias cosas que, no terminaron de convencerme, la mayoría de ellas relacionadas con la antigua Roma, así que vamos a ello.
1. Sobre la historia y los personajes:
• El ritmo de la novela es lento, lentísimo. No me pareció aburrido, como tal, pues nunca lo sentí pesado ni me dieron ganas de dejarlo; pero sí que me pareció que las páginas pasaban y pasaban y apenas sucedían cosas verdaderamente importantes para la trama. No es sino hacia la mitad del libro (o un poquito después) que la acción comienza y eso es un decir, pues aún cuando ya se estaba presentando el problema, a veces pasaban tres capítulos en los que no sucedía na-da.
• Los personajes, a excepción de Emilia (y quizá Tulia y Lisandro) son bastante planos, sólo están ahí para contrastar su carácter con el de la protagonista y muchas veces sólo resultan nombres sobre el papel, más que personas.
• Mujeres vs mujeres: en este libro está muy presente esta sensación de que las mujeres son las peores enemigas de las mujeres. Todas las Vestales parecen odiarse entre ellas y su único propósito en la vida es hacer fracasar a sus compañeras. Uhm, ok??? No sé, no creo que esto sea necesariamente malo, pero la verdad es que cansa ver esta clase de narrativas (que se complementan con la "aprobación/salvación masculina" por encima de todo o la de "soy diferente a todas las demás mujeres TM), y la verdad me habría encantado ver más hermandad entre los personajes femeninos o, al menos que Emilia tuviera una amiga de verdad, en lugar de que todas las Vestales fuesen antagonistas /:
2. Sobre la antigua Roma:
Si bien no noté tantísimos errores (o, al menos, no tan evidentes) como en otra novela romántica ambientada en la antigua Roma que leí hace unos añosVindicatio, sí hubo varias cosas que me chirriaron y me hicieron cuestionarme la veracidad de TODO lo que presentaba la autora. A continuación, lo más relevante.
• La autora menciona varias veces Cartago. En una ocasión, la protagonista se lamenta porque nunca podrá visitar Cartago; en otra ocasión, Lisandro menciona que traen a las jirafas de Cartago (!); y, así, hay otro par de menciones a la ciudad. El problema es que esta historia tiene lugar en el 63 a.C. y la Cartago original fue destruida en el 146 a.C. (!!), mientras que la Cartago romana fue fundada en el 49 a.C. (!!!). Es decir, hubo un intervalo de casi 100 años en el que Cartago no existió como ciudad y, lamentablemente, La esclava de Vesta sucede durante esta ventana Carthage-less, por lo que no tendría mucho sentido que se hablara tanto de una ciudad destruida como si ésta fuera funcional.
• Lisandro, en una de sus pláticas con Emilia, le cuenta que en Sicilia crecen muchos TOMATES. Y se pasa todo un párrafo hablando sobre los tomates sicilianos. ¿El problema? LOS TOMATES SON ORIGINARIOS DE AMÉRICA Y NO LLEGARON A LA PENÍNSULA ITÁLICA SINO HASTA EL SIGLO XVI d.C. Los antiguos romanos no conocieron los tomates (ni el chile, ni el azúcar) y mucho menos los cultivaron. Y esto sí me parece muchísimo más alarmante que lo de Cartago.
• La visión de la religión y los dioses romanos es bastante... problemática, por decirlo de alguna manera. Es creencia popular (yo misma lo creí hasta ca. 2013) que los dioses romanos no son sino los dioses griegos con otros nombres; como si los romanos fuesen un pueblo god-less que iba por el mundo buscando a quiénes robarles sus dioses y, pues, no. Al menos no exactamente. Los romanos se caracterizaban por conquistar ciudades o pueblos, a quienes les permitían seguir con su vida y sus creencias mientras aprendieran latín, pagaran los impuestos, aceptaran a los magistrados romanos y adoraran a los dioses romanos. Hay que tener en cuenta que la religión romana es profundamente práctica, sistemática y estatal: es decir, todo está institucionalizado y es imperativo para el Estado cumplir con los ritos; a los romanos no les importaba si tú creías en sus dioses, sólo les importaba que siguieras con los ritos. Pues bien, en ocasiones, para atraer a un pueblo a su causa, adoptaban a alguno (o a varios) de sus dioses o los equiparaban con sus propios dioses. "¿No quieres hacer los sacrificios a Júpiter? ¿Por qué no? ¿Acaso no te has dado cuenta de que Júpiter es Zeus? El padre de los dioses y el dios de la lluvia, ¿viste? Es el mismo, no hay problema si lo adoras". Con el tiempo, por supuesto, muchos aspectos de los dioses extranjeros que los romanos no tenían se adhirieron a ellos a tal punto que llegó un momento en el que no se recordaba que no era su atributo original; peeero, eso no significa que los romanos robaran a los dioses griegos, como Lisandro insinúa en la novela. De hecho, en varias deidades se puede ver que no son lo mismo que su contraparte griega, por mucho que se parezcan, sobre todo los dioses que son inherentemente romanos. Un ejemplo perfecto es Marte: Marte es el dios de la guerra y la agricultura, es uno de los dioses más importantes del panteón romano y al que más le rezaban los soldados y Roma por cuestiones bélicas; mientras que Ares (su "contraparte" griega) es... es el dios de la guerra, sí, pero de la guerra violenta, sin sentido, destructora. Ares no era un dios muy popular entre el pueblo griego, pues el papel de dios de la guerra (estratégica, bien pensada, ordenada) era Atenea; mientras que Minerva (la "contraparte" romana) era sólo diosa de las artes y la sabiduría. Otro ejemplo es Saturno (el Cronos "romano"). Cronos, padre de Zeus, era una deidad bastante... malvada, por decirlo de alguna manera, mientras que Saturno era un rey legendario y su reinado es considerado como la "época de oro" por muchos poetas romanos. En conclusión, la visión que Sherri Smith hace de la mitología/religión romana es increíblemente simplista y antiromana.
• Las Vestales son... muy extrañas aquí. He de admitir que no sé tanto de ellas, pero sentí que leía más bien a monjas cristianas que a sacerdotisas romanas. Siempre se dice que las Vestales eran las mujeres con más libertad en Roma y que tenían un increíble poder político; pero las Vestales de Smith son, más bien, mujeres fanáticas que sólo aspiran a la "deificación" personal a través de una escultura (!!!). Casi nunca salen (o nunca se hace mención a su salida), nunca hablan con nadie, siempre se habla de que nadie en Roma las quería y que la muchas de ellas preferían quedarse para siempre como Vestales pues no tenían prospectos fuera del templo... pero --hasta donde sé-- era bastante común que el Pontifex maximus arreglara matrimonios para las antiguas Vestales con hombres acaudalados, pues se consideraba un honor muy importante casarse con las sacerdotisas... Además, la vestimenta tradicional de las vírgenes Vestales era el blanco, no el púrpura :CC
• También, he leído en varias reseñas que los sacrificios presentados en la novela son inventados :C y, pues, yikes. Investigaré más al respecto, pero no me sorprendería para nada.
Creo que la idea de Sherri Smith es buena y creo que habría sido una novela increíble si hubiera hilado la trama de una manera diferente, en cuanto a la relación de los personajes o la representación de los acontecimientos, como la Conjura de Catilina, que siento que se desperdició muchísimo :c
En cuanto a esta traducción, de nuevo, DE NUEVO, se dejó la mayoría de los nombres latinos con su forma latina, lo cual no está necesariamente mal, pero --tradicionalmente-- los nombres latinos se suelen usar españolizados, así que me parece bastante no-profesional de parte de la traductora dejar casi todos los nombres en su forma latina EXCEPTO por Lucio Sergio Catilina (???), ¿por qué sólo ese nombre?
PS. Quiero resaltar que el interés amoroso de la protagonista es un hombre FLACO FLAQUÍSIMO ♥ Es la primera vez que leo en una novela ~histórica~ a un hombre flaquísimo and I was all into that ♥♥♥
Okay. Okaaay.
En general el libro me gustó, creo que la idea principal es buena y la escritura de la autora (o, al menos, esta traducción) era agradable; sin embargo, hubo varias cosas que, no terminaron de convencerme, la mayoría de ellas relacionadas con la antigua Roma, así que vamos a ello.
1. Sobre la historia y los personajes:
• El ritmo de la novela es lento, lentísimo. No me pareció aburrido, como tal, pues nunca lo sentí pesado ni me dieron ganas de dejarlo; pero sí que me pareció que las páginas pasaban y pasaban y apenas sucedían cosas verdaderamente importantes para la trama. No es sino hacia la mitad del libro (o un poquito después) que la acción comienza y eso es un decir, pues aún cuando ya se estaba presentando el problema, a veces pasaban tres capítulos en los que no sucedía na-da.
• Los personajes, a excepción de Emilia (y quizá Tulia y Lisandro) son bastante planos, sólo están ahí para contrastar su carácter con el de la protagonista y muchas veces sólo resultan nombres sobre el papel, más que personas.
• Mujeres vs mujeres: en este libro está muy presente esta sensación de que las mujeres son las peores enemigas de las mujeres. Todas las Vestales parecen odiarse entre ellas y su único propósito en la vida es hacer fracasar a sus compañeras. Uhm, ok??? No sé, no creo que esto sea necesariamente malo, pero la verdad es que cansa ver esta clase de narrativas (que se complementan con la "aprobación/salvación masculina" por encima de todo o la de "soy diferente a todas las demás mujeres TM), y la verdad me habría encantado ver más hermandad entre los personajes femeninos o, al menos que Emilia tuviera una amiga de verdad, en lugar de que todas las Vestales fuesen antagonistas /:
2. Sobre la antigua Roma:
Si bien no noté tantísimos errores (o, al menos, no tan evidentes) como en otra novela romántica ambientada en la antigua Roma que leí hace unos años
• La autora menciona varias veces Cartago. En una ocasión, la protagonista se lamenta porque nunca podrá visitar Cartago; en otra ocasión, Lisandro menciona que traen a las jirafas de Cartago (!); y, así, hay otro par de menciones a la ciudad. El problema es que esta historia tiene lugar en el 63 a.C. y la Cartago original fue destruida en el 146 a.C. (!!), mientras que la Cartago romana fue fundada en el 49 a.C. (!!!). Es decir, hubo un intervalo de casi 100 años en el que Cartago no existió como ciudad y, lamentablemente, La esclava de Vesta sucede durante esta ventana Carthage-less, por lo que no tendría mucho sentido que se hablara tanto de una ciudad destruida como si ésta fuera funcional.
• Lisandro, en una de sus pláticas con Emilia, le cuenta que en Sicilia crecen muchos TOMATES. Y se pasa todo un párrafo hablando sobre los tomates sicilianos. ¿El problema? LOS TOMATES SON ORIGINARIOS DE AMÉRICA Y NO LLEGARON A LA PENÍNSULA ITÁLICA SINO HASTA EL SIGLO XVI d.C. Los antiguos romanos no conocieron los tomates (ni el chile, ni el azúcar) y mucho menos los cultivaron. Y esto sí me parece muchísimo más alarmante que lo de Cartago.
• La visión de la religión y los dioses romanos es bastante... problemática, por decirlo de alguna manera. Es creencia popular (yo misma lo creí hasta ca. 2013) que los dioses romanos no son sino los dioses griegos con otros nombres; como si los romanos fuesen un pueblo god-less que iba por el mundo buscando a quiénes robarles sus dioses y, pues, no. Al menos no exactamente. Los romanos se caracterizaban por conquistar ciudades o pueblos, a quienes les permitían seguir con su vida y sus creencias mientras aprendieran latín, pagaran los impuestos, aceptaran a los magistrados romanos y adoraran a los dioses romanos. Hay que tener en cuenta que la religión romana es profundamente práctica, sistemática y estatal: es decir, todo está institucionalizado y es imperativo para el Estado cumplir con los ritos; a los romanos no les importaba si tú creías en sus dioses, sólo les importaba que siguieras con los ritos. Pues bien, en ocasiones, para atraer a un pueblo a su causa, adoptaban a alguno (o a varios) de sus dioses o los equiparaban con sus propios dioses. "¿No quieres hacer los sacrificios a Júpiter? ¿Por qué no? ¿Acaso no te has dado cuenta de que Júpiter es Zeus? El padre de los dioses y el dios de la lluvia, ¿viste? Es el mismo, no hay problema si lo adoras". Con el tiempo, por supuesto, muchos aspectos de los dioses extranjeros que los romanos no tenían se adhirieron a ellos a tal punto que llegó un momento en el que no se recordaba que no era su atributo original; peeero, eso no significa que los romanos robaran a los dioses griegos, como Lisandro insinúa en la novela. De hecho, en varias deidades se puede ver que no son lo mismo que su contraparte griega, por mucho que se parezcan, sobre todo los dioses que son inherentemente romanos. Un ejemplo perfecto es Marte: Marte es el dios de la guerra y la agricultura, es uno de los dioses más importantes del panteón romano y al que más le rezaban los soldados y Roma por cuestiones bélicas; mientras que Ares (su "contraparte" griega) es... es el dios de la guerra, sí, pero de la guerra violenta, sin sentido, destructora. Ares no era un dios muy popular entre el pueblo griego, pues el papel de dios de la guerra (estratégica, bien pensada, ordenada) era Atenea; mientras que Minerva (la "contraparte" romana) era sólo diosa de las artes y la sabiduría. Otro ejemplo es Saturno (el Cronos "romano"). Cronos, padre de Zeus, era una deidad bastante... malvada, por decirlo de alguna manera, mientras que Saturno era un rey legendario y su reinado es considerado como la "época de oro" por muchos poetas romanos. En conclusión, la visión que Sherri Smith hace de la mitología/religión romana es increíblemente simplista y antiromana.
• Las Vestales son... muy extrañas aquí. He de admitir que no sé tanto de ellas, pero sentí que leía más bien a monjas cristianas que a sacerdotisas romanas. Siempre se dice que las Vestales eran las mujeres con más libertad en Roma y que tenían un increíble poder político; pero las Vestales de Smith son, más bien, mujeres fanáticas que sólo aspiran a la "deificación" personal a través de una escultura (!!!). Casi nunca salen (o nunca se hace mención a su salida), nunca hablan con nadie, siempre se habla de que nadie en Roma las quería y que la muchas de ellas preferían quedarse para siempre como Vestales pues no tenían prospectos fuera del templo... pero --hasta donde sé-- era bastante común que el Pontifex maximus arreglara matrimonios para las antiguas Vestales con hombres acaudalados, pues se consideraba un honor muy importante casarse con las sacerdotisas... Además, la vestimenta tradicional de las vírgenes Vestales era el blanco, no el púrpura :CC
• También, he leído en varias reseñas que los sacrificios presentados en la novela son inventados :C y, pues, yikes. Investigaré más al respecto, pero no me sorprendería para nada.
Creo que la idea de Sherri Smith es buena y creo que habría sido una novela increíble si hubiera hilado la trama de una manera diferente, en cuanto a la relación de los personajes o la representación de los acontecimientos, como la Conjura de Catilina, que siento que se desperdició muchísimo :c
En cuanto a esta traducción, de nuevo, DE NUEVO, se dejó la mayoría de los nombres latinos con su forma latina, lo cual no está necesariamente mal, pero --tradicionalmente-- los nombres latinos se suelen usar españolizados, así que me parece bastante no-profesional de parte de la traductora dejar casi todos los nombres en su forma latina EXCEPTO por Lucio Sergio Catilina (???), ¿por qué sólo ese nombre?
PS. Quiero resaltar que el interés amoroso de la protagonista es un hombre FLACO FLAQUÍSIMO ♥ Es la primera vez que leo en una novela ~histórica~ a un hombre flaquísimo and I was all into that ♥♥♥
June 18, 2018
first book I ever read, and I loved it
January 29, 2016
More than a historical novel, more than a romance, to me this book was all about the fallibility - and the malleability - of memory. About taking the truth of what happened and twisting it until you have a story you like, about replacing the parts that you can't recall or don't want to recall, about people telling each other enough lies that they achieve some sort of truth-by-consensus or rewriting stories in rebellion. The statues are sculpted long after the death of those they commemorate, in the image of dim recollection or someone else's agenda. This is not subtle in the narrative; entire chapters weave a tale in loving detail, only to end with a sly comment about how things didn't actually happen that way.
And then I got to the final pages, and found it laid out in black & white: "I mean, what good is memory if it is not faulty? What good is memory if it is not malleable, if one cannot select memories? If one's memories cannot be changed, then memory really is no good at all. We are descendants of memory alone. Memories are all I had to choose from."
Mind you, it's all presented in what was deliciously described by another reviewer as "some hyperventilating prose, and an abundance of awkward metaphors. A pair of legs are “two loaves of bread glazed with hair;” a heaving chest is described as “ebbing and flowing like a bottle riding the tide, filled with messages that only cautious fingers could extract.”"
More than hyperventilating, though, the text is poorly written - or perhaps just poorly proof-edited, but it amounts to the same thing. Sentences coil around on themselves clumsily, sometimes leaving you perplexed as to what the author was trying to say, sometimes just exasperating as the subject of the sentences changes randomly - "The Pontifex Maximus's toga stretched around him like a swaddled fleshy boulder, pushed tight against his chest by the wind..." "Laurel leaves are wrapped just above his ears, ears that don't stick too far out or are too thin so that tiny red veins show throbbing just below the surface." The result is that far too often, the flow of the narrative was brought to a crashing halt as I stopped to try and work out what on earth was actually being said.
And then I got to the final pages, and found it laid out in black & white: "I mean, what good is memory if it is not faulty? What good is memory if it is not malleable, if one cannot select memories? If one's memories cannot be changed, then memory really is no good at all. We are descendants of memory alone. Memories are all I had to choose from."
Mind you, it's all presented in what was deliciously described by another reviewer as "some hyperventilating prose, and an abundance of awkward metaphors. A pair of legs are “two loaves of bread glazed with hair;” a heaving chest is described as “ebbing and flowing like a bottle riding the tide, filled with messages that only cautious fingers could extract.”"
More than hyperventilating, though, the text is poorly written - or perhaps just poorly proof-edited, but it amounts to the same thing. Sentences coil around on themselves clumsily, sometimes leaving you perplexed as to what the author was trying to say, sometimes just exasperating as the subject of the sentences changes randomly - "The Pontifex Maximus's toga stretched around him like a swaddled fleshy boulder, pushed tight against his chest by the wind..." "Laurel leaves are wrapped just above his ears, ears that don't stick too far out or are too thin so that tiny red veins show throbbing just below the surface." The result is that far too often, the flow of the narrative was brought to a crashing halt as I stopped to try and work out what on earth was actually being said.
February 13, 2012
I am not sure about this book. I found it hard to get into but when I did get into it I thought it was pretty good. I liked that as you read more and more of the book you started questioning the ending which seem pretty clear at the beginning. I am not sure if I will read it again but I am glad that I have read it.
February 22, 2009
This is a fabulous read. I am so engrossed with the story of Aemilia that I'm dreading the end of the book -- even though it will come quickly, as I can't put it down. I am not usually drawn to stories about Ancient Rome but I'm so very glad I picked this one up!!
December 12, 2013
Slowish in the opening chapters, then progressively more interesting. Includes lots of details but I am unsure which if any are historically accurate.
September 5, 2016
This one was a bit hard to get into, but once I was past the first few chapters it turned into a good story. If you can plow through the first bit I think you will enjoy the last 80%
July 22, 2020
No esperen un libro exacto històricamente (para eso es preferible buscar en algùn libro de historia de Roma lo que pasaba con las Vestales) pero es un libro intimista, y un relato bastante absorbente desde la primera hasta la ùltima pàgina. Lo malo: los errores històricos que son muy obvios, y el final, apresurado y muy mal rematado.
August 10, 2024
Es un libro entretenido, pero no se le puede pedir mucho más. La historia resulta lenta, además de predecible, y la vida de las vestales se presenta como monótona y bastante limitada. Hubiera sido de agradecer un mayor rigor histórico, pero carece de él en muchos detalles, como las menciones a los tomates o a la desaparecida Cartago, además de presentar a las vestales como prisioneras aburridas y envidiosas. Para pasar un rato de lectura en un viaje o una tarde lluviosa, sin más pretensiones.
August 30, 2022
I'm not sure how to really review this. It felt like a slow read, I did find certain parts more interesting than others. The ending was both good and bad in my eyes, if that makes sense. I neither hated it nor loved it.
September 3, 2019
No recuerdo las veces que he leído este libro pero siempre me desconcierta. Las vírgenes vestales son fascinantes pero dan mucha lástima.
May 4, 2024
Bastante lento y repetitivo
June 21, 2016
Personalmente este libro estuvo mejor de lo que esperaba. Es cierto, como dice alguna crítica por ahí abajo, que pese al evidente esfuerzo documental que ha hecho la autora por conocer el mundo de las vírgenes vestales, hay alguna incorrección histórica, pero entiendo que se ha hecho por motivos de trama y por darle algún encanto a la ficción que se desarrolla, porque claramente, ésta es una historia ficticia. Por ello, el lector de esta novela no debe caer en el error de pensar que ésta es una novela histórica perfectamente documentada y que puede saber más del mundo de las vestales a través de ella. Es mucho mejor leer a los historiadores romanos o coger manuales de Historia. La autora se ha permitido muchas licencias a la hora de escribir.
Por ejemplo, como también se ha dicho en alguna otra crítica, la menstruación no tiene nada que ver con el sacerdocio de las vestales, y la obsesión que en el libro se advierte sobre la regla llega a tintes auténticamente escatológicos o incluso ridículos. Estos temas eran íntimos y no trascendían a la religión ni a la vida pública. También considero muy extraña la sobrevaloración meramente uterina de la virgen: la virgen, en tanto que mujer intacta, ni esposa ni madre, era una anomalía desprovista de su feminidad e incluso se tendía a masculinizarla en el ideario común, como ocurre con diosas como Diana o la misma Minerva, que casi son hombres más que mujeres, precisamente en pro de su virginidad y en desarrollar roles bastante masculinos, como la caza y la guerra, aunque también femeninos.
Dejando aparte las evidentes licencias históricas que la autora se ha tomado, es un libro hermoso, interesante y que engancha, no aburriendo en casi ningún momento. La protagonista, Emilia, es una mujer de gran inteligencia y sensibilidad que experimenta un recorrido psicológico desde la aceptación desdichada y forzada de su elección como virgen vestal, sus intentos infructuosos de desarrollar devoción y armonía con su sacerdocio, su anhelo de cariño y afecto, que buscará primero en dos de sus compañeras y después, en el esclavo que será causa de su perdición; y finalmente, la autoderrota, renuncia y desengaño con una religión con la cual no se siente identificada. Todo narrado con un lenguaje íntimo, lírico y encantador. Definitivamente, Sherri Smith sabe cómo encandilar al lector, a pesar de que su documentación haya sido superficial. El marco del sacerdocio de las vestales en la Antigua Roma es sólo eso, un marco para dar forma a la historia que podría haber sido la de cualquier mujer en esta tesitura, por ejemplo, una monja en un monasterio medieval.
Lo único que carece un poco de sentido es el final, demasiado apresurado y falto de detalles para mi gusto. El castigo de Emilia no es creíble: a una virgen vestal no se la entierra viva porque se le haya apagado el fuego, sino porque ha perdido su virginidad. El castigo por lo primero son simplemente azotes. Por eso, no tiene sentido que Emilia sea condenada al enterramiento en vida porque se le haya apagado el fuego, y en ningún momento se comprueba si, efectivamente, ha perdido o no su virginidad, algo perfectamente comprobable. Por ello mismo, el castigo de Tulia es igualmente absurdo, pues a ella, ni se le apagó el fuego, ni tenía un amante, ni había perdido su virginidad, algo que nadie se molestó en comprobar. Éste es el fallo más grande de la novela y es por eso que no le concedo las cinco estrellas. Se pueden admitir algunos errores históricos por falta de documentación, por necesidad de rellenar trama y por darle algún encanto, pero este error absurdo es imperdonable por cuanto la autora llegó a dominar otros aspectos más complejos de la trama.
En resumen, un libro precioso, que engancha, atrae y recomiendo, sobretodo por lo atractivo de la historia y el encanto de su narrativa. Pero no caigamos en el error de pensar que éste es el retrato fiel de cómo eran las vestales de la Antigua Roma. Aquellas mujeres libres de marido, de padre, de suegro y de hijos, respetadas y admiradas por toda Roma, que podían heredar y disponer de sus bienes, que eran recibidas en todo tipo de fiestas, eventos, juegos y banquetes, que incluso tenían influencia política; no se parecen mucho a las tristes y amargadas "esclavas de Vesta" que vemos en el libro. En pro de una historia triste y trágica, Sherri Smith ha sacrificado una realidad histórica mucho más compleja.
Por ejemplo, como también se ha dicho en alguna otra crítica, la menstruación no tiene nada que ver con el sacerdocio de las vestales, y la obsesión que en el libro se advierte sobre la regla llega a tintes auténticamente escatológicos o incluso ridículos. Estos temas eran íntimos y no trascendían a la religión ni a la vida pública. También considero muy extraña la sobrevaloración meramente uterina de la virgen: la virgen, en tanto que mujer intacta, ni esposa ni madre, era una anomalía desprovista de su feminidad e incluso se tendía a masculinizarla en el ideario común, como ocurre con diosas como Diana o la misma Minerva, que casi son hombres más que mujeres, precisamente en pro de su virginidad y en desarrollar roles bastante masculinos, como la caza y la guerra, aunque también femeninos.
Dejando aparte las evidentes licencias históricas que la autora se ha tomado, es un libro hermoso, interesante y que engancha, no aburriendo en casi ningún momento. La protagonista, Emilia, es una mujer de gran inteligencia y sensibilidad que experimenta un recorrido psicológico desde la aceptación desdichada y forzada de su elección como virgen vestal, sus intentos infructuosos de desarrollar devoción y armonía con su sacerdocio, su anhelo de cariño y afecto, que buscará primero en dos de sus compañeras y después, en el esclavo que será causa de su perdición; y finalmente, la autoderrota, renuncia y desengaño con una religión con la cual no se siente identificada. Todo narrado con un lenguaje íntimo, lírico y encantador. Definitivamente, Sherri Smith sabe cómo encandilar al lector, a pesar de que su documentación haya sido superficial. El marco del sacerdocio de las vestales en la Antigua Roma es sólo eso, un marco para dar forma a la historia que podría haber sido la de cualquier mujer en esta tesitura, por ejemplo, una monja en un monasterio medieval.
Lo único que carece un poco de sentido es el final, demasiado apresurado y falto de detalles para mi gusto. El castigo de Emilia no es creíble: a una virgen vestal no se la entierra viva porque se le haya apagado el fuego, sino porque ha perdido su virginidad. El castigo por lo primero son simplemente azotes. Por eso, no tiene sentido que Emilia sea condenada al enterramiento en vida porque se le haya apagado el fuego, y en ningún momento se comprueba si, efectivamente, ha perdido o no su virginidad, algo perfectamente comprobable. Por ello mismo, el castigo de Tulia es igualmente absurdo, pues a ella, ni se le apagó el fuego, ni tenía un amante, ni había perdido su virginidad, algo que nadie se molestó en comprobar. Éste es el fallo más grande de la novela y es por eso que no le concedo las cinco estrellas. Se pueden admitir algunos errores históricos por falta de documentación, por necesidad de rellenar trama y por darle algún encanto, pero este error absurdo es imperdonable por cuanto la autora llegó a dominar otros aspectos más complejos de la trama.
En resumen, un libro precioso, que engancha, atrae y recomiendo, sobretodo por lo atractivo de la historia y el encanto de su narrativa. Pero no caigamos en el error de pensar que éste es el retrato fiel de cómo eran las vestales de la Antigua Roma. Aquellas mujeres libres de marido, de padre, de suegro y de hijos, respetadas y admiradas por toda Roma, que podían heredar y disponer de sus bienes, que eran recibidas en todo tipo de fiestas, eventos, juegos y banquetes, que incluso tenían influencia política; no se parecen mucho a las tristes y amargadas "esclavas de Vesta" que vemos en el libro. En pro de una historia triste y trágica, Sherri Smith ha sacrificado una realidad histórica mucho más compleja.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 9, 2010
The character's are okay. The plot is slightly dull at times, but what i find redeemable about the whole novel is about the Roman religion (its gods and goddesses), its ceremonies, the Pontifex [ruler/head priest of state:] who happens to be Caesar himself. The man of history and great tales of deeds. It takes place before Caesar's accession of the Roman state, and during his rule. Its from the perspective of a Roman woman who at a young age is forced to take the vow of chastity and virginity. She is forced to live separately from her family and is forced to see her world as nothing but purple due to her being veiled all the time in purple clothing. She starts to doubt her purpose for being a Virgin, who's sole purpose in life is to stand in numbers of 6, their lives devoted to the goddess Vesta (Hestia) - who is represented as a forever burning fire in their temple. The Virgins watch over the city day and night, night especially because the city could be under threat and the fire helps keep the enemies at bay. But this one Virgin (Aemilia) doubts everything around her, the stories she is educated are nothing but myths of past Virgins who dedicated their lives to this one Roman institute. Aemilia's perspective is interesting to note because as a Virgin she is supposed to do her duty, and follow various examples and think of the goddess, but she defies this by thinking about what her teacher, Tullia is doing at the moment, that is until she one day breaks her Virgin silence by talking to a male slave. With whom, she falls in love with. She commits a horrendous treason against the state, and is punished.
What is good about this novel is that it starts with Aemilia being buried alive as her punishment, but what her punishment is we're not told until the end, and you can only guess what it might have been because there are infinite possibilities. Second, the story of Tullia being happily married somewhere which changes throughout the story makes you wonder what happened to her and where is she, because all of a sudden she disappears. Its set during the time of the famous Spartacus revolt (slaves revolting against their Roman masters), and it brings in a few Greek philosophers who discuss religion and virtue. Like I said its a good book, but not "THE BEST" book.
What is good about this novel is that it starts with Aemilia being buried alive as her punishment, but what her punishment is we're not told until the end, and you can only guess what it might have been because there are infinite possibilities. Second, the story of Tullia being happily married somewhere which changes throughout the story makes you wonder what happened to her and where is she, because all of a sudden she disappears. Its set during the time of the famous Spartacus revolt (slaves revolting against their Roman masters), and it brings in a few Greek philosophers who discuss religion and virtue. Like I said its a good book, but not "THE BEST" book.
March 27, 2013
This is a sad story – I've always been fascinated by Roman times – in some ways so barbaric with lots and lots of bloody sacrifices to strange gods but in some ways very similar to our own times. A quick examination of the life of a Roman virgin to the goddess Vesta would seem to be so easy – servants to take care of all needs, plenty of food and a nice place to live – far, far better than most during these times. Their lives, however, are so rigid. They are removed from their families around 6 yrs of age. The 6 females Vestal Virgins live together but never become family. They are never to touch one another or even speak in a comfortable family way. They are often jealous and petty with one another. It is almost a competition to be the most pious, devout, and virginal. There lives change so little day to day, month to month, and year to year. They are educated but given so little to think about.
The lack of love and affection, lack of any kind of intellectual stimulation, and lack of novelty would be difficult to endure. Their lives seem to be about endurance and acceptance of their lives dedicated to this goddess of fire.
The lack of love and affection, lack of any kind of intellectual stimulation, and lack of novelty would be difficult to endure. Their lives seem to be about endurance and acceptance of their lives dedicated to this goddess of fire.
April 23, 2019
I'm still a little baffled at the end, and deeply annoyed at Lysander. I know he said it was all part of his plan, that he hadn't committed murder, planned to leave her behind, or came back because he wanted to finish her off or whatever. But dang. Even I was left shocked with how he went about it.
I dunno, I was rooting for him or Tullia (till I found out those were her bones keeping her company) to come and help her but by the end I had done a three sixty and would have preferred a bitter sweet ending instead. Like a warning to not be too blind sighted or too overly trusting when unsure of how trustworthy a person truly is. I mean, he lied once its not hard to imagine he'd continue his streak. But then again, you can't really blame Amelia for trusting what he had to say about his background. She had no experience of evidence that he had any reason to lie to her; he was still a slave and she was still a Virgin, and in societies eyes they couldn't be together on the account that they'd be killed. Apart from boosting his ego for a while, changing his backstory doesn't do him any favours.
I might read this again but I'd certainly skip the first good 200pages.
I dunno, I was rooting for him or Tullia (till I found out those were her bones keeping her company) to come and help her but by the end I had done a three sixty and would have preferred a bitter sweet ending instead. Like a warning to not be too blind sighted or too overly trusting when unsure of how trustworthy a person truly is. I mean, he lied once its not hard to imagine he'd continue his streak. But then again, you can't really blame Amelia for trusting what he had to say about his background. She had no experience of evidence that he had any reason to lie to her; he was still a slave and she was still a Virgin, and in societies eyes they couldn't be together on the account that they'd be killed. Apart from boosting his ego for a while, changing his backstory doesn't do him any favours.
I might read this again but I'd certainly skip the first good 200pages.
April 21, 2016
The Virgin’s Tale is the story of Aemilia, the daughter of a patrician family who is selected to be a Vestal Virgin in Republican Rome. The story begins as Aemilia is buried alive as punishment for breaking her sacred vows. She reflects on her life, beginning with her being offered up by her parents to be a Virgin and tracing her path that led her to this point.
Life as one of Smith's Vestal Virgins is claustrophobic, extremely regimented, and lonely. There wasn't as much romance as I expected and I wish the author had gone into more depth with some of the female relationships in the book. I found Aemelia’s story was quite slow moving and it took me a while to really get into it. However, the book didn’t go in entirely in the direction I expected and by the time I got to part three I couldn’t put it down.
For people who are interested in finding out about the religion of Republican Rome you do get a bit of detail here - enough to get a sense of how complicated and intricate Roman religious traditions were during the Republic.
Life as one of Smith's Vestal Virgins is claustrophobic, extremely regimented, and lonely. There wasn't as much romance as I expected and I wish the author had gone into more depth with some of the female relationships in the book. I found Aemelia’s story was quite slow moving and it took me a while to really get into it. However, the book didn’t go in entirely in the direction I expected and by the time I got to part three I couldn’t put it down.
For people who are interested in finding out about the religion of Republican Rome you do get a bit of detail here - enough to get a sense of how complicated and intricate Roman religious traditions were during the Republic.
April 23, 2020
I truly enjoyed this book. Whether it was accurate or no, it’s not an issue for me in this case. I wasn’t looking for a history book but for some historical fiction.
The book was well narrated, the story was touching and beautiful, and I enjoyed it from beginning to end.
The book was well narrated, the story was touching and beautiful, and I enjoyed it from beginning to end.
August 6, 2009
This is an absolutely fantastic book! It is the first person account of a vestal virgin in ancient Rome. It reminded me of Memoirs of a Geisha. The character of Amelia was so real and her story so compelling that I couldn't put it down. The historical detail was overwhelming; I can't imagine how much research Smith must have done. I found the description on the back of the book to be slightly misleading, as this book is so much more than just a romance. It is truly Amelia's story. It wa so freshing to see a realistic potrayal of a woman; one that is complex and multi-layered. I strongly reccomend this book to anyone.
August 28, 2010
This is a nice enough book, and certainly not terrible. In fact, it's actually quite a good read, if your not expecting something too deep and meaningful; this book is exactly what it is at first glance. It is basically about a young girl, who becomes a Vestal Virgin, and falls for someone, and... you can guess the rest. It is a fairly predictable book, but there are some nice twists in places. I definitely enjoyed reading this book, and it is recommended.
October 24, 2010
I absolutely loved this book. As a classics student, I was blown away by the historical accuracy. Smith certainly did her research. It is very hard to find good Roman historical fiction that is true to the period; what is often seen in many movies and television is simply not accurate.
If you are at all interested in Roman life, especially for this intriguing group of women, this is the book for you.
If you are at all interested in Roman life, especially for this intriguing group of women, this is the book for you.
March 16, 2014
Certainly a book about a part of history hidden in the shadows, but I felt that the ending was obvious (spoiler ... she falls for a guy and is no longer a "good Virgin") this is pretty much told to us on the back cover. But the look into what it might have been like to be a Vestal Virgin and what they went through is why I read the book and I wasn't disappointed there. It was a fast and easy read but with the ending I couldn't give it a higher rating.
September 9, 2010
The Virgin's Tale is a disturbingly interesting read. Filled with ancient Rome rituals and ceremonies, the detailed animal sacrifices are too much to take at times. This book is slow moving, a bit boring in places, and it is difficult to ascertain how old Aemilia is in most parts of the book as her age is only revealed about three times. Overall though I thought it worth the time it took to read.
September 6, 2010
i really liked this book. it was nice to learn about the gods again because i learnt about them when i was a child. I could not get over how badly woman were treated in that time. its extremely similar to the handmaid's tale; they are both there for their wombs. but unlike the handmaid's tale aemelia has to not have sex.
February 25, 2012
An interesting read in that it made such a difference to read something not about gladiators or emperor's. A child being chosen as a vestal was as much a political act as an election for the family involved. Amazing how could such a powerful empire be governed by signs and superstitions.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews