Monsieur Montespan [Paperback]

The marriage of Monsieur Montespan and his wife, Francoise de Mortemart, was an accident, but at first a fortuitous one. Montespan's brother, Francoise's fiance, was killed in a duel, leaving him free to claim the beautiful lady. They begin their marriage deeply in love with one another and have children together. Francoise, however, starts to chafe at their poor lifestyle and the couple becomes mired in debt. To make up for it, Montespan heads off to a series of wars, while his wife enters the court, taking on the name "Athenais". She is so beautiful, charming, and accomplished that she attracts the eye of legendary Louis XIV. What is a loving husband to do?

I've only recently become interested in the reign of Louis XIV; in high school, I had a history teacher who was fascinated by him, which led to a bit of an overdose. After I visited Versailles last October, though, I couldn't help but be intrigued by the man who had built the palace, the "Sun King". As a result, I snapped this book up for review and have really been looking forward to reading it. I was particularly attracted by the fact that it was written by a Frenchman; I've read plenty of Americans and Brits writing about French history but rarely a French novel in translation. I was not disappointed, especially given that the book is written in a much grimmer style than most historical fiction I've read.

By this I mean Teule doesn't miss portraying history as it really was, at least as far as a modern novel can, including all the excesses that to us seem rather vile; nobles stuffing their rotting teeth with butter, the horrors of the duel, even the fact that the king visited with people while on his chamber pot, which I've heard before from multiple sources. He's also quite happy to describe the pleasures that Montespan took with his wife, but given Teule is French, this is no surprise; even when I went to Paris I could tell things were a lot freer in this respect. This is no romantic, sanitized version of history. I questioned at times whether things were that disgusting, but given what I've actually learned about the past, it wouldn't surprise me at all to learn that it was all true.

The rest of the book is very accurate, at least as far as I can check. It seems excessive, but yes, Montespan did actually protest the fact that his wife was the King's mistress, reject his offerings, and set up mourning for their love while she was still alive. Even Athenais's new hairstyle is as described. It's sensational, but the best kind of sensational because it actually happened. I felt incredibly sorry for the poor man but at the same time wanted to give him a push into getting over his wife. I've since learned that poor Montespan has been ridiculed throughout history for refusing to sit back and let the King take his wife while he enjoyed the spoils of it, so I'm glad Teule has at least done his part to turn this around and show the court as a darker and more sinful place than normally portrayed.

If you're interested in historical fiction that portrays a version of Louis XIV's court without thick rose-colored glasses on, Monsieur Montespan is an excellent choice. Moreover, it gives us a perspective outside the glittering world of Versailles, which I for one quite appreciated. Recommended.

N.B. This review contains spoilers.

Françoise-Athénaïs, the marquise de Montespan is famous as one of the mistresses of Louis XIV. This is a novel about Louis-Henri, her husband. Highly-sexed, he had fallen in erotic love at first sight with the beautiful and equally raunchy Athénaïs; and their couplings at all times of the day and night, whether in bed or while travelling in coaches, are recounted in lubricious detail. Louis-Henri was always heavily in debt and only tore himself away from his in attempts to distinguish himself in Louis XIV's early campaigns and so to attract the king's notice and, hopefully, advancement. Unfortunately one campaign was over before he could fight, and another ended in the expedition's defeat. Having borrowed heavily to equip his troops, he returned from the wars more indebted than ever. But then the beautiful Athénaïs was appointed lady-in-waiting to the Queen, caught the King's eye; he showered her with jewelry (and we will in due course be treated to more scabrous descriptions of their congress).

The naive and loving marquis was initially thrilled, and suspected nothing when the King relieved his financial difficulties and posted him to the Spanish border with the prospect of being given command of a regiment there. He resisted the plea of Athénaïs that they should move into the provinces. Off he went to the wars, was severely wounded there, and on his return eleven months later found his wife with child...

The marquis is desolate and enraged; he spurns all the King's offers to buy his agreement to the liaison with money or promotion. He affixes a cuckold's horns to his carriage and adds them to his coat of arms. The heartless courtiers mock his outspoken outbursts against the King: other men would proud to benefit if their wives had such a liaison. Louis XIV has him banished to his estate in Gascony. (He takes with him his priggish little son who had been brought up by Athénaïs at court: the speeches the author gives him are certainly not those of a three-year old.) His eccentric displays of grief for his lost love are known throughout the neighbourhood and indeed throughout France. The King continues to persecute him. The marquis flees to Spain for a while, and author gives us a portrait of the pitiful creature who is destined to become Charles II of Spain.

Athénaïs, who had at first been reluctant to yield to the King, has not only reconciled herself to the role, abandoned her two children to the marquis, and has become greedy and powerful - and resentful of Louis XIV's new love, Mme de Maintenon. Eventually she falls from royal favour.

Towards the end of the book the imagination of the author, the main events of whose story have up that point fitted in with what is known about the history of Louis-Henri and Athénaïs, seems to me to run riot. I find it hard to believe the role ascribed to Edward Hyde, formerly Chancellor England or to the Duc de Lauzun; even less that there is any historical warrant for Louis-Henri's escapade in Versailles towards the end of the book, for the events which followed, or for what happened to Athénaïs' remains after her death.

Throughout, the author describes with relish the fouler side of life at the court of Versailles: exquisitely dressed aristocrats often have terrible teeth and fetid breath; it seemed acceptable for fine ladies at social gatherings to relieve themselves under their crinolines and servants were ready to wipe up the result; there is a good deal about the excrements of the King and of other people. True, but distasteful.