The Life Of Cesare Borgia

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Rafael Sabatini (1875-1950) was an Italian/British writer of novels of romance and adventure, best know for Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, and Scaramouche. Sabatini calls The Life of Cesare Borgia "a history and some criticisms."
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The Life of Cesare Borgia

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Rafael Sabatini (1875-1950) was an Italian/British writer of novels of romance and adventure, best know for Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, and Scaramouche. Sabatini calls The Life of Cesare Borgia "a history and some criticisms."
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781434432803
  • Publisher: Wildside Press
  • Publication date: 9/23/2011
  • Pages: 468
  • Product dimensions: 5.50 (w) x 8.50 (h) x 1.04 (d)

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PREFACE (Excerpt)

This is no Chronicle of Saints. Nor yet is it a History of Devils. It is a record of certain very human, strenuous men in a very human, strenuous age; a lustful, flamboyant age; an age red with blood and pale with passion at white-heat; an age of steel and velvet, of vivid colour, dazzling light and impenetrable shadow; an age of swift movement, pitiless violence and high endeavour, of sharp antitheses and amazing contrasts.

To judge it from the standpoint of this calm, deliberate, and correct century--as we conceive our own to be--is for sedate middle-age to judge from its own standpoint the reckless, hot, passionate, lustful humours of youth, of youth that errs grievously and achieves greatly.

So to judge that epoch collectively is manifestly wrong, a hopeless procedure if it be our aim to understand it and to be in sympathy with it, as it becomes broad-minded age to be tolerantly in sympathy with the youth whose follies it perceives. Life is an ephemeral business, and we waste too much of it in judging where it would beseem us better to accept, that we ourselves may come to be accepted by such future ages as may pursue the study of us.

But if it be wrong to judge a past epoch collectively by the standards of our own time, how much more is it not wrong to single out individuals for judgement by those same standards, after detaching them for the purpose from the environment in which they had their being? How false must be the conception of them thus obtained! We view the individuals so selected through a microscope of modern focus. They appear monstrous and abnormal, and we straight-way assume them to be monsters and abnormalities, never considering thatthe fault is in the adjustment of the instrument through which we inspect them, and that until that is corrected others of that same past age, if similarly viewed, must appear similarly distorted.

Hence it follows that some study of an age must ever prelude and accompany the study of its individuals, if comprehension is to wait upon our labours. To proceed otherwise is to judge an individual Hottentot or South Sea Islander by the code of manners that obtains in Belgravia or Mayfair.

Mind being the seat of the soul, and literature being the expression of the mind, literature, it follows, is the soul of an age, the surviving and immortal part of it; and in the literature of the Cinquecento you shall behold for the looking the ardent, unmoral, naïve soul of this Renaissance that was sprawling in its lusty, naked infancy and bellowing hungrily for the pap of knowledge, and for other things. You shall infer something of the passionate mettle of this infant: his tempestuous mirth, his fierce rages, his simplicity, his naïveté, his inquisitiveness, his cunning, his deceit, his cruelty, his love of sunshine and bright gewgaws.

To realize him as he was, you need but to bethink you that this was the age in which the Decamerone of Giovanni Boccaccio, the Facetiæ of Poggio, the Satires of Filelfo, and the Hermaphroditus of Panormitano afforded reading-matter to both sexes. This was the age in which the learned and erudite Lorenzo Valla--of whom more anon--wrote his famous indictment of virginity, condemning it as against nature with arguments of a most insidious logic. This was the age in which Casa, Archbishop of Benevento, wrote a most singular work of erotic philosophy, which, coming from a churchman's pen, will leave you cold with horror should you chance to turn its pages. This was the age of the Discovery of Man; the pagan age which stripped Christ of His divinity to bestow it upon Plato, so that Marsilio Ficino actually burnt an altar-lamp before an image of the Greek by whose teachings--in common with so many scholars of his day--he sought to inform himself.

It was, in short, an age so universally immoral as scarcely to be termed immoral, since immorality may be defined as a departure from the morals that obtain a given time and in a given place. So that whilst from our own standpoint the Cinquecento, taken collectively, is an age of grossest licence and immorality, from the standpoint of the Cinquecento itself few of its individuals might with justice be branded immoral.

For the rest, it was an epoch of reaction from the Age of Chivalry: an epoch of unbounded luxury, of the cult and worship of the beautiful externally; an epoch that set no store by any inward virtue, by truth or honour; an epoch that laid it down as a maxim that no inconvenient engagement should be kept if opportunity offered to evade it. The history of the Cinquecento is a history developed in broken pledges, trusts dishonoured and basest treacheries, as you shall come to conclude before you have read far in the story that is here to be set down.

a profligate age what can you look for but profligates? Is it just, is it reasonable, or is it even honest to take a man or a family from such an environment, for judgement by the canons of a later epoch? Yet is it not the method that has been most frequently adopted in dealing with the vast subject of the Borgias?

To avoid the dangers that must wait upon that error, the history of that House shall here be taken up with the elevation of Calixtus III to the Papal Throne; and the reign of the four Popes immediately preceding Roderigo Borgia--who reigned as Alexander VI--shall briefly be surveyed that a standard may be set by which to judge the man and the family that form the real subject of this work.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 16 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 16 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 28, 2014


    She came in and crahed for tye night

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 29, 2014


    She flopped onto her bed, taking out her copy of "Romeo and Juliet".

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 17, 2014

    *A man comes in*

    *he was wearing a black cloak and black gloves that shows his fingers, ( am not telling my true identity well give ya a hint it starts with the letter "S")* he puts lots of snakes in all the beds, and in the closents, dressers, mostly everywhere. He finished then said, "Haha, Noone leaves me" He smirks then walks out.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 9, 2014

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 9, 2014


    She collapsed on her bunk, not noticing Syren was gone. She fell into an deep sleep.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 7, 2014

    Herb 2

    Herb staggered back in, holding everything. He dropped the broom and dustpan, placing the sheets and febreze on a cleared dresser. He sighed and bent down, picking up the broom. Gripping the handle, he began moving around the room, piling spiders in a big heap in the middle of the area, along with some dirt and other random trash. The teen finished and looked around the floor, double checking. Once he thought it was good, he swept the pile into the dustpan, frowning at it. Walking over to the trash bin, he took out a layer of waded paper and dumped the spiders and trash, placing the paper back over it to cover up. Looking around, he sighed, remembering the sheets. The spiders were dead, but they had to be clean and redone. He began taking off a sheet, shaking out the spiders in another pile, then laying the soiled sheet in a pile near the door. Herb did this with each one until each bunk was st<_>ripped. He did the same thing as the before pile of spiders: remove a layer of paper, dump the insects, then cover it up. Then he began placing the new sheets on, carefully pulling on the to prevent as much wrinkles as possible. After that he whipped out the febreze, spraying what the can labeled "Sky and Linen". After he doused the arachnicide smell. Looking around satisfied, he grabbed a piece of paper and pen and began writing on the closest table. <p>

    Hey, took care of the spiders! If you see one come get me or kill it with this!" An arrow pointed to where the can of arachnicide pinned down a corner. "And here is to mask the smell!" The next arrow pointed to the febreze. "•••Herb." <p>

    Satisfied, he picked up the dirty sheets and headed out.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 8, 2014


    Herb began to panic, wondering if he woke her up. He flashed out the door, it swinging back with a loud thud.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 8, 2014


    "I'll take that as a no." He said, and slipped out.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 9, 2014


    She rose quickly and silently. She changed into her clothes and pulled a pack from beneath her bed. She checked the contents to see if they were still there: a baggy of ambrosia; a flask of nectar; a bandage roll; two changes of clothes; a wad of money; a few drachmas; toiletries. She strapped on her dagger and threw the pack on. She gave the cabin a last furitive glance, placed a note on her pillow, and slipped out the door.
    The note read:
    To whomever may read this. I am assuming it to be Casandra first.
    I'm sorry, but I must do this alone. I'm going back to my birthplace to find my father and clear my dreams. I will return. I swear it on the River Styx. Do not fear for me. And tell Herb.... tell him that I love him... See'ya later... Alligator...
    ~ Syren

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 22, 2014


    Lay on the top bunk, reading.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 24, 2014


    She sighed, yawning.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 5, 2014

    Athena's Cabin

    This is Atjena's cabin. There is a gray owl over the door and nearly the entire cabin has a pale gray-blue theme. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are bulletin boards filled with battle drawings and blueprints. It's a bit larger than the other cabins, with several desks and bunk beds with nooks and papers piled neatly on them. Various designs hang on the walls.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted October 2, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Pro's Factual, well-laid-out, enthusiastic & at times amusin

    Factual, well-laid-out, enthusiastic &amp; at times amusingly sarcastic. Sabatini challenges the many flaws in seemingly reliable Borgia sources. The author is dedicated to defending the real Borgia story, featuring fantastic examples of Cesare's true grandeur. As a history buff, the TRUTH and those who seek it &amp; seek to spread it is what I appreciate. It's a fairly good simplistic addition to any Borgia collection.

    A bit dry at times, and the insults upon false-sources get repetitive. The focus is more on reasons for discrediting old sources rather than explaining Cesare's life. The book is great up until the last few chapters, I expected so much more there. The story is fairly well-detailed until that point. The end is abrupt with an overly-dramatized image of Cesare's unknowable last moments, and just teeters off, leaving the reader wanting more. There's no wrap-up, no final reiteration on the book's entire thesis.

    If you'd like much more detail on Cesare's story, I highly, intensely recommend John Leslie Garner, &quot;Caesar Borgia, a study of the Renaissance.&quot;

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 25, 2012

    Hard to read

    I am having difficulty getting interested enough to read this book. The author is very concerned with proving Cesare Borgia's innocence of the crime of fratricide. I haven't finished it yet and don't know if I will.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 27, 2014

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted February 29, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

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