His mother told him he was God's greatest thing. Then he was stolen, sold, shipped to France, and re-named Louis-Benoit Zamor. Stripped of his esteem as efficiently as a fox's coat in a royal hunt, Zamor is reared by Du Barry—with a love as false as her smile—and a king with unsavory proclivities. He soon realizes his mother lied. Because, in this place, King Louis XV is the world's greatest thing, second only to God.
But Zamor was loved, once. This fact, alone, makes the bitter pill of a lifetime of small nothingness impossible to swallow. Even if false, a mother's words don't die easily.
First, he must survive childhood. Then, if the world thinks the debauched, degenerate king is its greatest thing, the answer is simple: Zamor will have to change the world.
Vive le roi. Long live the King ... and all that.
The imperative towards freedom powers the novel, which opens with a grown-up Zamor witnessing the “Terror” of 1793, as the Revolution rages and aristocrats face “the insatiable appetite of that beast, the guillotine.” From there, we flash back via Zamor’s personal (and personable) journal, as he reports, with bracing clarity and insight, the abuse, humiliation, and political education he endured growing up “in the upper echelons of society” but not actually “a part of it.” As he makes sense of his world of kings and palaces, especially his gradual understanding of the systems of oppression, he will savvily influence the future of France by 13, and just a few years later, given some liberty in Paris, he’s among the Jacobins—the suspense lies in how far he will go to secure freedom, without drawing the ire of kings.
The novel is heftily long, but Flinn (author of Véronique’s Journey) never allows her striking period detail—chamber pots and Tarte Tatin, secret trysts and royal scheming—to diminish narrative momentum. Revolutionaries, mistresses, servants, and more all shine as fresh, engaging characters, but it’s Zamor himself, especially his insistence upon his humanity, that gives this series-starter its immersive power.
Takeaway: Powerful story of an enslaved page in Louis XV’s court, on the eve of revolution.
Comparable Titles: Sally Christie’s The Sisters of Versailles trilogy, Marge Piercy’s City of Darkness, City of Light.
Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A
