Title: The Mapmaker's Daughter Author: Laurel Corona
Published: March 4, 2014
Genre(s): Historical Fiction
Page Count: 360
Rating:
Summary from Goodreads:A sweeping story of 1492 Spain, exploring how what we know about the world shapes our map of life Valencia, 1492. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella issue an order expelling all Jews who refuse to convert to Christianity. Amalia Cresques, daughter of a Jewish mapmaker whose services were so valuable that his faith had been ignored, can no longer evade the throne. She must leave her beloved atlas, her house, her country, forever. As Amalia remembers her past, living as a converso, hiding her faith, she must decide whether to risk the wrath of the Inquisition or relinquish what''s left of her true life. A mesmerizing saga about faith, family and Jewish identity.
Laurel Corona’s novel, set in Spain’s Late Middle Ages, speaks of the strength of women, in spite of time, place, and circumstance. Beginning in 1432 and ending in 1492, Amalia Cresques narrates the eventful story of her life, which takes her through Spain, Portugal, and Muslim-held Granada. The Mapmaker’s Daughter is a vivid glimpse of 15th century Iberia and the religious turmoil it underwent.
The book’s protagonist, Amalia, was born a Spanish converso (a Jew who had renounced Judaism and had been baptized into the Church). Much of Amalia’s early years consisted of hiding the fact that, though Christian by law, in her heart, she was a Jew. As a young woman in Portugal, Amalia eventually turns her back on the Church altogether, and lives openly as a Jew. But when Their Catholic Majesties Ferdinand and Isabella attempt to create religious and national unity in Spain, Amalia’s faith is once again put to the test.
Obviously, The Mapmaker’s Daughter has a heavy component of religion/spirituality to it, as Amalia’s faith is one of the most important things to her, to the point where she gives up great happiness and love to stay true to her heritage. That kind of determination and strength of character are things I certainly admire, even if at times Amalia’s particular brand of religion seemed strange and perhaps contradictory to me. For instance, she’s very strict in observing the smallest Jewish ritual or ceremonial law down to the letter, but has no problem engaging in an affair with a Muslim man out of wedlock and moving into a harem to be with him. (Even stranger, Amalia’s devout Jewish friends encourage this relationship). As someone who is also very devout, I felt a certain degree of kinship with Amalia, though I did wonder where she got her ideas a lot of the time. And, of course, I did have to wonder at the author’s accuracy in portraying a long-standing romantic relationship between a Jew and a Muslim in the 1400s where neither party suffered from social persecution. That did seem strange.
Even as Corona dealt with Amalia’s personal faith and her related struggles, the author also branched out and incorporated the religious goings-on in Iberia as a whole. In a peninsula where Jews, Christians, and Muslims often live side by side, there’s bound to be a lot of tension and turmoil, all of which were expanded upon very satisfactorily over the course of The Mapmaker’s Daughter. Lots of actual historical figures made appearances, as Amalia was often in contact with the royal courts of both Spain and Portugal, and was at one point the tutor of the future Queen Isabella.
Speaking of Queen Isabella, I really appreciated Corona’s more factual portrayal of this famous queen. This book doesn’t gloss over Isabella’s less than exemplary actions, and seems to show her in shades of grays, compared to all other historical novels about Isabella, which seem to make an attempt at absolving Isabella of all sin. The Queen’s Vow by C.W. Gortner, for example, pretended that Isabella was wholly shocked by treatment of Jews and objected most mightily at the Inquisition’s brutalities. Um, actually, the only reason Isabella objected to the Inquisition was because it cost too much money, so yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I really like Isabella; she did a lot of amazing things and was certainly a great ruler, but she was not a very tolerant monarch. But I digress. The Mapmaker’s Daughter did an excellent job at being honest with Queen Isabella’s actions, which is really all I ask in historical fiction.
However, one area where this book does not do well is it’s title. In her author’s note, Corona says, “The unifying drive and focus of all my work is forgotten or underappreciated women and their stories.” Yay, I am so on board with that authorial mission! All for it. But, um…if you’re writing about strong, underappreciated, forgotten women…why did you give your book a title that defines these women by a man? I mean, there’s really no map-making in The Mapmaker’s Daughter, and Amalia is so much more than just somebody’s daughter or somebody’s wife. Like, jeez Corona. Great feminist objective, but you’ve sold yourself short right off the bat. (And yes, I do realize that the author might not have control over her book’s final title, so this rant could possible also be aimed at the publishers.)
The Mapmaker’s Daughter is a beautiful, atmospheric historical novel that dives into a place and time not often written of. Amalia Cresques is a woman worth admiring, and her story is expansive and engrossing. In spite of a few issues, I’m quite pleased with this book.
