Lois Leveen, Juliet’s Nurse. New York. Atria/Emily Bestler Books, 2015.
Reviewed by Mikee Delony (mxd06b@acu.edu)
The most common complaint of readers approaching an
adaptation of a well-known and beloved story, such as that of Shakespeare’s
Romeo & Juliet, is a lament or an explosion of frustration because “it’s
not like the real story.” Certainly this is the case with some readers of Lois
Leveen’s novel, Juliet’s Nurse. However,
disgruntled readers should remember that (a) Shakespeare made quite a few changes
to his source material, so his version is not the real story either, and (b)
Leveen’s novel is not about Juliet, but as the title clearly states, about
Angelica, Juliet’s Nurse.
Lois Leveen’s novel, Juliet’s Nurse, creates a compelling
prequel to Shakespeare’s story of star-crossed lovers. Noting that Juliet’s nurse is an important
character in the play, speaking “the next largest number of lines, following
those of Romeo and Juliet” (Author’s Note, 366), Leveen sets out to tell this
woman’s story and creates a different kind of love story centered on an ordinary,
lower-class woman, manipulated by her priest, beloved by her husband, and at
the mercy of the Capelletto family, a woman who loved deeply and suffered
greatly, and first person narrative makes the story Angelica’s, from the first
word to the last.
Surprisingly, all I knew when I picked up the novel was that
the setting was fourteenth-century Italy. I was immediately captivated by
Angelica’s narrative from the beginning, her 30-year love affair with her husband,
Pedro, and the arrival of a surprise daughter some years after the tragic
deaths of all of her children – six sons – of the plague in one horrific
week. I mourned along with Angelica at the loss of her unexpected newborn
daughter, and smiled when I read of her opportunity to nurse another newborn,
this one named Juliet and born to Lord and Lady Capelletti on the same day as
her dead daughter. Still clueless, even
when I learned of Juliet’s cousin, Tybalt, I did not recognize the connection
to Shakespeare’s tale until Mercutio entered the narrative.
Aware that adaptations are just that, adaptations, I did not
expect this novel to follow the course of Shakespeare’s play. Instead I walked beside Angelica as she loved
Juliet as fiercely as she mourned her lost children, for what mother ever
forgets those she had borne and raised and lost? Likewise, I admired her passion for her
husband and the fervor with which she both missed and desired him, and I
celebrated and felt her joy mixed with fear during their stolen moments
together in Juliet’s nursery when he snuck in to see her after caring for the
property’s bees.
Love, death, mourning, bees, and families, both rich and
poor, dominate Angelica’s story. As we
read of life in the Capelletto household, and particularly see the lived grief,
misery, and early aging that marked the very young Lady Capelletto’s life, as
well as the striving, scheming, and social climbing practiced by the heirless,
aging Lord Capelletto, we learn that wealth and luxury are really meaningless
when compared to the rich life of love, laughter, grief, and hard work that
Angelica recalls when she thinks of her small, noisy, home in Verona’s poor
neighborhood. Perhaps the novel speaks
to readers who have also lived long, watched children grow, and experienced
loss. The nurse’s narrative makes the
reader privy to her thoughts, which often center on her sons, their active and
noisy lives and their untimely deaths, and always she treasures her second
chance with Juliet, whom she nurtures, cossets, and spoils, as she does
Juliet’s motherless cousin, Tybalt. This
novel truly explores, as Leveen writes, “the relationship between loss and
endurance” (369).
As a metaphor for life, bees and beekeeping provide a constant
thread through Leveen’s novel, with their honey, their constant need for care,
and their stings. Pedro supports his poor family by situating hives throughout
Verona; he cares daily for the bees, harvests the combs to sell for beeswax
candles, and makes a variety of mouth-watering treats with the honey. Likewise, in a vain attempt to counter the
social-climbing, the hate, and the self-centered revenge spewed by his uncle,
Lord Capaletto, Pedro treats Tybalt as his own son, teaching him both the hard
work and joy that comes from doing his job well.
Mikee Delony
Abilene Christian University