Member Reviews
The character development in "Eight Strings" is quite impressive. Readers will find themselves invested in the personal journeys and growth of the characters, from the enigmatic violinist to the passionate music teacher, and even the mysterious luthier who crafts the magical instrument. DeRosia excels in creating complex, relatable characters, making them the heart and soul of the story.
However, the pacing of the novel can be a bit uneven at times. While the character development is well-executed, there are moments when the plot seems to meander, slowing down the overall momentum of the story. Some readers may find themselves wishing for a more streamlined narrative.
Additionally, the ending left me with mixed feelings. While it wraps up the various storylines in a satisfying way, there were a few loose ends that I wish had been addressed more thoroughly. The conclusion felt slightly rushed, leaving me with a desire for a bit more closure in certain areas.
Did not finish (yet?). medium star rating since I'm only about halfway through, but I'm having trouble keeping focus- not sure if it's me or the story right now!
Originally from Michigan, DeRosia now make her home in Toronto. This, her debut novel, is an historical fiction set in Venice, Italy in the last years of the 19th century. We meet Francesca when she finds out her drunken father has sold her into a marriage she wants no part of. With the help of her grandfather, she disguises herself as a man and runs away. She gets a job at a famous theatre where she can use the eight-string marionette skills she learned from her grandfather. Since the jobs are only open to men, she keeps up with her disguise and realizes she is actually more comfortable living as a man. As they becomes more successful in the theatre they become embroiled in the power structures, plans & crimes of some wealthy families. This is a story of power and greed, survival and a forbidden romance that wonderfully captures life in Venice at the time. It is a great recommendation for historical fiction fans as well as those who are interested in LGBTQ2S stories. I loved it.
Queer Venetian puppeteers
The story begins with our hero and first-person narrator Franco freezing outside the Minerva Theater, the premiere puppet theater of late nineteenth century Venice. Until yesterday Franco was a girl, Francesca, living in the bad part of town with her beloved grandfather and her not-at-all-beloved drunk and indebted father. She has just learned that her father has sold her to a local mafioso to pay off his debts. She was ostensibly sold into marriage, but in reality she is to be kidnapped into what amounts to prostitution. Thus Francesca, at the urging of her grandfather, becomes Franco. It works. Her grandfather tells her, "No one looks twice. You’re more yourself as a boy, not less. They think you’re one of them, Francesca."*
Franco barges into the Minerva and demands to be taken on as an apprentice to Radillo, the owner and master puppeteer of the theater. Franco (as Francesca) was taught by his grandfather to use the eight-string puppets that Radillo made famous. As his grandfather told him,
<blockquote>‘Eight strings are more complicated than those of the past. You can make puppets come to life with two or three, but that’s old-fashioned. With eight strings, people forget they’re watching wood. They’re seeing someone they know -- or if you’re really good, someone they’d want to know. Eight strings,’ he’d say, ‘and you have a soul.’*</blockquote>
Then Annella, an old friend who knew Franco as Franscesca, shows up at the Minerva. She recognizes him and promises to keep his secret. (By the way, all these plot details are in the publisher's blurb, so I am not counting any of them as spoilers.) Franco and Annella become lovers. For the reader there is a constant feeling of life on a knife's edge. Will Annella betray Franco? Will he be discovered by someone else? It's a question of life and death.
Venice in 1896 is, as Margaret Derosia describes it, "an aging beauty past her prime, ... a once-powerful republic in decline"*. Its glory days long past, it is now just one city in the recently formed nation of Italy. It is a city that eats its children, especially its poor children. Derosia writes with a powerful sense of place. The reader is left with a visceral feel that the danger for Franco is real -- if he is discovered, he WILL die.
The evocation of the puppet theater is powerful. The best chapter in the book, in my opinion, is one describing a performance of /Pinocchio/ in the Minerva. It is not just the puppets, but also the audience of children in the Pit shouting at the players what they think of the characters. This sense of puppet theater as dialog between the puppeteers and the audience in the Pit throughout the book is vivid and makes the theater come to life. A detail I was not previously aware of: when a character dies in a show, the puppeteer throws the holder and strings down on the stage, exposing the artifice of the puppet show, yet somehow making the death seem more real. It reminded me of a chess player knocking over the king to acknowledge the loss of a game.
The novel is followed by "A note to readers" that I quite enjoyed. It is more extensive than such notes generally are. In it Derosia describes the historical basis of the story and her understanding, as a self-described "queer lesbian"*, of Franco and his love story.
And this is a debut novel! Extraordinary.
I thank NetGalley and Simon and Schuster Canada for an advance reader copy. This review expresses my honest opinions. Release date 14-Mar 2023.
*Quotes are from an advance review copy and may change before publication.