The Castrato and His Wife
“As an academic study in 18th century music and use of castrati, Ms. Berry’s book takes the next step forward in uncovering the truth behind the practice and gives us real life examples of men who sacrificed their manhood for the sake of beautiful music. As a provocative story attempting to draw in the reader with a gripping narrative and ribald details, The Castrato and His Wife is, shall we say, a little limp?”
Modern musicians should be grateful that they are not required to make the same sacrifices their predecessors were forced to make to achieve fame and fortune. (Although Justin Bieber would not have the baby daddy issues he is facing, so there is a trade off.) While commonly practiced in certain musical circles, the castration of young boys in order to retain the purity of their voices was not necessarily condoned by the general population.
In the church, castration was frowned upon (castrated men were not allowed to be priests), while at the same time choirs from almost all of the most famous cathedrals were filled with castrati. Women were not allowed to participate in any form of church leadership, so castrati filled the necessary holes in the vocal range.
Outside of the church, many castrati who were lucky enough to receive training and develop their talent found fame on the stages and in the opera houses of 18th century Europe. They were the superstars of their day, and women fawned over them. In the 1700s in England, where Helen Berry’s book, The Castrato and His Wife, is set, women faced a double standard. Men were expected to be sexually experienced, while women remained chaste and pure, even, to a certain extent, after marriage.
But castrati were not considered men by society and were therefore no threat to husbands. Women were allowed to, and did, develop platonic, romantic relationships with the singers.
Helen Berry’s book picks up this somewhat enigmatic and oxymoronic story line.
[NOTE: SPOILER ALERT] Giusto Ferdinando Tenducci was an Italian castrato who found fame in English concert halls. After a few seasons, he was hired by Thomas Maunsell, an Irish barrister, to teach music to Maunsell’s youngest daughter. The musician and his student developed a relationship, got married, and separated to mass confusion. Was this really a marriage? Was it even officially consummated, given Tenducci’s status as a castrato?
The book has a story to tell, but the author takes her time in getting to it. The reader does not meet Dorothea Maunsell, Tenducci’s wife, until more than halfway through the book. Instead of focusing on the main couple, Ms. Berry includes every detail she was able to find about castrati to flesh out her story. Unfortunately, not much is known about the practice because it was so taboo, and the recitation of mostly unrelated facts gets a little dry at times.
As an academic study in 18th century music and use of castrati, Ms. Berry’s book takes the next step forward in uncovering the truth behind the practice and gives us real life examples of men who sacrificed their manhood for the sake of beautiful music. As a provocative story attempting to draw in the reader with a gripping narrative and ribald details, The Castrato and His Wife is, shall we say, a little limp?