CW/TW: Mentions of death, child abandonment, body injuries, and subtle hints of grooming.

My Bookish Thoughts 💬
Wow. What a stunning debut! Harriet Constable writes with the finesse of a seasoned, award-winning author. The Instrumentalist is a symphony of words—captivating, lyrical, and utterly enthralling. I was swept away by the vivid, magical setting of Venice and the brilliantly crafted storyline.

I fell in love with Anna Maria, the orphaned violin prodigy whose resilience and determination light up the pages. Her unique gift of seeing music in colour was beautifully described, and the dynamics between the orphan girls—friendships, rivalries, heartaches—added so much depth.

This incredible novel had won pride and place in my all time favourites. Honestly, nothing I write will do this novel justice, so I urge you to pick up a copy and experience its beauty for yourself!

Big thanks to Net Gallery, Bloomsbury Publishing and the author for the gifted digital copy in exchange for an honest review. 🙏🏼

I enjoyed this beautifully written work of historical fiction, based around the true story of Anna Maria della Pieta, an orphan in early 17th century Venice, and who likely composed many of Vivaldi's famous pieces.
Hard to believe that this was a debut novel!

I really enjoyed this fictional account of the life of Anna Maria Del Pièta, a baby posted through a tiny window of the convent by a desperate woman, who rose to become a successful violinist and protégé of Vivaldi. I was completely unaware of her existence before I picked up this book, and although the fictitious reinvention of her as a feminist is likely untrue, it’s a way to reinvigorate history and to tell to stories of forgotten women.
Vivaldi is portrayed as bit weird, and this does seem to be congruent with what was known at the time. It does seem that his greatest compositions were probably devised with some collaboration from the incredibly musical girls at the convent, who were groomed for success.
I rattled through this, it’s very readable and has introduced me to a story I didn’t know. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

A lusciously written tale of Venetian music, set in the Pietà orphanage when Vivaldi taught there as a music teacher - our main character is Anna Maria della Pietà, one of the female orphans who was posted through the gap in the wall of the orphanage as a baby and brought up on music - this is the way poor women got rid of their babies in Venice during the period, and the Pietà, although an orphanage and severe, also gave girls an amazing education, particularly in music, and was home to an extremely famous all-female orchestra known as the Figlie di Coro - literally ‘the daughters of the choir’. Such was their musical prowess that the book centres on the idea that some of the orphans may have actually even helped write Vivaldi’s masterpieces. It must be stressed that this is a sort of ‘what if’ imagining, and is in no way based in fact - it’s a plausible scenario dreamed up by the author. It is fact, however, that Anna Maria was a virtuoso violin player and extremely talented, whether or not she ever composed her own music, or helped Vivaldi with his, so it sort of made me uncomfortable that the book needed to embellish her in any way, or to attribute something real in a way that may not be true. I also wasn’t keen on the fact that her tutor, Vivaldi, is never named in the book - similar to Hamnet, the author decides he’s so famous he doesn’t need to be mentioned - it always feels a bit glaring that we are reading an entire book about a ‘him’. One thing I did like, which seems to be a common method of writing about music, is the way Anna Maria sees notes as something visual, as colour. It allowed the writing to really shine, as it needs to when describing intensely beautiful music. An interesting snapshot into a unique historical period and place, and an enjoyably sensory read.

My thanks to #NetGalley and the publisher, Bloomsbury, for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

A beautifully written fictional memoir of a real life person, Anna Maria de La Pieta, a musician brought up in a Venetian orphanage in the eighteenth century. A gifted violinist, she soon catches the attention of her teacher, the composer Vivaldi, who isn’t named in the book but whose works are embellished by Anna and the young musicians in his orchestra and for which they are not credited. The story gives a good portrayal of eighteenth century Venetian life and its characters though the section on Casanova seemed a bit superfluous.

Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review.

Wow. What a stunning book!
I love Venice and know it well, so it is always a pleasure to find an author who writes about Venice having done a lot of research and got the basic geography correct! As well as, in this case, a lot of historical research.
Because of that, I could simply sit back and enjoy the story. And what a story it was. Admittedly a slow burner at first, and there are a few passages not directly in the story that may seem slightly confusing, but all is revealed in time.
It did get to a point, however, when I literally could not put the book down, and if forced to, then I was thinking about it pretty much all the time until I could pick it up again. This did make for a couple of very late nights!
But what a pleasure it was to read this amazing story, and to be told at the end which bits were based on real life (most of it!) and which were slight author's licence.
Anyone who loves Venice, music, history, or just great stories, will love this novel.
I do hope this clever author sets another story in Venice, and I look forward to it, if so!!

Celebrating creativity, ambition, and the power of friendship and connection, this is a powerful exploration of those who are written out of history. The layering of details and glimpses into lives build to make a world that is vivid and immersive, wrapping you up in the streets of Venice and the secrets of the characters.
Ultimately hopeful, feminist and fulfilling, this is one of those books that scratches at your brain when it’s not in your hands. I really didn’t want to put it down.

Beautifully written but a little bit too long for me. An interesting look at how a group of young orphans were allowed to share their musical talents. It is also a disturbing reminder of how young women were treated by the rich men during this era of history.

A compelling book, well written and a very descriptive telling of Anna Maria’s story. Anna Maria is flawed but likeable
Brings to life the Vienna of the Eighteenth Century.

Anna Maria della Pietà (all the orphan girls are given the surname della Pietà) has an innate talent for music. She is determined to become a member of the Ospedale’s famous orchestra – an intensely competitive environment – to become first violinist of the orchestra and, eventually, be acclaimed maestro. The alternative is either marriage when she reaches child-bearing age or a life of drudgery. For Anna Maria music is everything and nothing will stand in her way, not even friendships, something she comes to regret when it’s too late.

‘The girl had notes before she had words, and those notes have always had colours’. Anna Maria experiences musical notes and melodies in the form of colours. Even the sounds of everyday life in early 18th century Venice – the songs of gondoliers, the cries of street traders, the chiming of church bells – are a kaleidoscopic symphony. ‘Tones and hues float up, high above the city, hanging like notes on a stave, matching the sounds below.’

To borrow a phrase from art, there’s a strong element of chiaroscuro (the use of light and dark elements) in the story. So we have the contrast between the glittering palazzos of the rich and the dank alleyways housing brothels where young people, even children, are forced to sell themselves for a few denari. Even within the Ospedale della Pietà there’s a contrast between the privileges given to the girls in the orchestra – better food, better clothing – and the privations experienced by the other orphans. And whilst frequently reminded they are the offspring of ‘monsters’ and fortunate not to have been drowned at birth, the Ospedale is reliant on their musical talents for donations from wealthy patrons.

And then there’s Antonio Vivaldi, newly arrived as music tutor at Ospedale della Pietà. On the plus side, he’s a virtuoso violinist, a talented composer and an inspirational teacher who is instrumental (sorry!) in facilitating Anna’s membership of the orchestra and acquisition of her own custom-made violin. But he’s also egotistical, demanding that Anna’s early attempts at composition match his own style, and becoming vengeful when her talent threatens to outshine his own. And, as the historical evidence shows, he’s not averse to taking credit for the work of others – the author has Anna give him an idea about a composition based on the seasons – or of cultivating unsavoury relationships with young pupils.

Told in lush prose, Anna Maria’s story is one of ambition and an unwavering determination to succeed, but also the personal cost that comes with it.

Plays fast and loose with biographies, generally with besmirching effects

Unfortunately I did not really enjoy this. Constable’s style is a little overwritten and repetitive. The idea of making her central character, Anna Maria della Pieta, the musical prodigy, violinist and composer synaesthetic was an excellent one – except that there is then an endless repetition along the lines of this music being red and yellow, that music being orange and green and then dark blue, etc etc.

But my major dislike of this book was two-fold. I always have trouble with fictionalised accounts of the lives of real people when the writer plays fast and loose with events from their lives – and particularly where malpractice of some kind is invented.

Anna Maria della Pieta was a real person, and the existence of the Venetian orphanage Ospedale della Pietà, in which she was initially a foundling, and later a member of the famous orchestra of foundling girls, who then became a star, famous beyond her geography, as a virtuoso. A ‘Maestra’, she was then to become the teacher and orchestra/choir coach for the orchestra. No mean feat for a woman in the eighteenth century.

Constable takes this story, and from it, she carefully never names the priest who was the Maestro di violin and Maestro di coro who trained all the girls at the time when Anna Maria was a small child, but it is absolutely obvious that this is Vivaldi, because she uses his history. Presumably the reason she doesn’t name him is because of the perfidious accusations she makes and ascribes to him.

Sure, this was not the easiest of times for a woman composer to get her work known and recognised. The fact that in teaching music and composition to the girls may indeed have meant that some of the works in the prodigious number of concerts and new works Vivaldi was having to produce with the orchestra, were collaborations, does not therefore mean that some of the particularly heinous events happened.

In the Victorian Era, hagiographies of famous people, brushing their malpractices away and out of sight were the norm. Unfortunately, our century seems prone to the other side – dirt digging, or inventing malfeasance, fake news, if you like

Thank eNetGalley and Bloomsbury Publishing for this eCopy to review

The Instrumentalist is a richly crafted fictional bebut. The story revolves around Anna Maria della Pietà, an orphaned girl born in Venice in 1696. From her humble beginnings in an orphanage to her rise as a celebrated violinist and composer, Anna Maria’s journey is captivating. However Anna Maria’s success came at great personal cost and I never really warmed to her. Her relationship with Vivaldi was complex and I felt quite sorry for her at times

I also found parts of the novel repetitive and slow-paced.

Despite this, The Instrumentalist remains a compelling exploration of ego, legacy, and the limitations placed upon talented women in history.

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This book has glorious Venice, Vivaldi, and Music - so it's off to a good start. And there's much to recommend about The Instrumentalist - it's an easy and fascinating read about an extraordinary woman. The book is a fictionalised history that tells the story of a young virtuoso violinist (Anna Maria della Pietà) who lived in Venice in the early 18th Century.
At the Ospedale della Pietà, abandoned orphan girls are posted through a tiny gap in the wall every day. Anna Maria is one of the three hundred girls growing up within the Pietà's walls – but she already knows she is different. Obsessive and gifted, she is on a mission to become Venice’s greatest violinist and composer.
The book is well-written, the story is compelling and there's much to enjoy as we're taken along on Anna Maria's journey.
My only reservations are that it sometimes feels like C21st attitudes and behaviours have been transplanted to C18th Venice which can feel jarring. I also struggle a little when real people such as Anna Maria and Vivaldi are fictionalised and reimagined to this extent, although in Anna Maria's case perhaps that's better than being almost entirely forgotten.
Anyway, it's a good summer read, especially if you're lucky enough to be travelling to Venice.
With thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for an ARC.

A truly well written book, focusing on the life of Anna Maria della Pieta but also giving voices to the other girls in the Pieta The Instrumentalist brings Venice in the eighteenth century to life in full colour.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for allowing me to read The Instrumentalist.

This summer, I have read two books about forgotten women in history. The first was Lady Mary Wortley Montagu in a Woman of Opinion and last week I read about Anna Maria della Pietà, a musical prodigy raised in an orphanage in Venice in the 1700s. She worked with Vivaldi and possibly contributed (without credit) to his most well known works and her story is told in the debut novel, The Instrumentalist.
We first meet Anna Maria as a baby being left at the Ospedale della Pietà, an orphanage that many destitute pregnant women used to give their daughters a chance. There the girls were raised to learn musical instruments and for those with talent it offered an opportunity to perform for some of the wealthiest members of Venetian society. Anna Maria has an incredible talent and aptitude, she is able to see musical patterns in colour and quickly rises through the ranks of the orchestra. She is also fiercely determined, almost arrogant in her dealings with others and is soon singled out by Vivaldi, the teacher of the elite musicians to work on his new compositions. She believes that she is as talented as the maestro, composing herself and fighting to be recognised as an equal.
I had never considered the part women have played in the history of music and little is known of Anna Maria as her history is not recognised in the same way as Vivaldi’s. At times, I found Anna Maria hard to like perhaps because of her single minded attitude. Her relationship with Vivaldi was complex and the abuse of power was not dissimilar to modern day grooming. This did not stop me enjoying her story and the author has put so much into her research of Venice in the 18th century and the role of the Della Pietà orphanage. The imagery that is created of the juxtaposition of the wealth and squalor of Venetian society with the descriptions of sights and sounds create a clear image for the reader. I’ve never been to Venice, but it is high on my travel wish list and I would love to wander the streets where Anna Maria perfected her craft and dazzled the nobility of society at that time.

I was swept away into Anna Maria’s Venice. A harsh world where a girl’s survival depends firstly on being small enough to fit into a small hole in the wall of an orphanage, secondly on having outrageous talent for music and thirdly on being prepared to allow the patriarchy to rob you of the recognition of that talent.

Anna Maria may be a flawed hero in this story but you get it: you will her to succeed and you understand her difficult choices and sacrifices to do that.

Ultimately, Constable offers representation for women in a world and a time when they had very little, so that their talent can be reclaimed and celebrated.

Passion, colour, triumph leap energetically from every page – I ‘heard’ the music, felt Anna Marie’s intensity, ‘saw’ the colours when she and her violin were one. The pace was tremendous, the historical and social information splendid and embellishing – ‘The Instrumentalist’ captures an era where women were not intended to succeed, despite their talent. Harriet Constable also encapsulates how women support each other – even when feared they are competition. Wonderful detail and atmosphere of Venice as it must have been then. An enthralling read.

When I was a small child living in Washington DC, I had a story tape called Vivaldi’s Ring of Mystery. These tapes were produced by the company Classical Kids to introduce small children to classical music, and subscribed to by middle-class mothers like mine – I think we had ones on Handel and Mozart as well. Although this tape has passed into the mists of time and we will now never know whether it was a work of brilliance or a load of rubbish, it has always stayed with me. I remember the story of an orphan girl living with nuns in Venice who had grown up hearing the legend of a special violin that only one heir could play. In the climactic scene, she rose from an audience of orphans to reveal herself as the lost genius. (There was also a very scary scene in the cemetery on Isola di San Michele). While I may have messed up some of these details – where does the titular ‘ring of mystery’ come in? – the sheer atmosphere and the music made this story unforgettable for my seven-year-old self.

And then we have Harriet Constable’s debut novel, The Instrumentalist. As Bridget Jones would say: GAH.

I am very much not a fan of faux-feminist historical fiction that feels the only way to celebrate the lives of women is to make them behave exactly like twenty-first century protagonists and/or to tear down famous men. This has the unfortunate result of erasing the struggles and machinations of women who did not have the same mindsets that we do but achieved within the boundaries that were set for them. It also suggests that the only way women can be talented is if men are abusive fakes. (See also: Odysseus in Madeline Miller’s Circe). Obviously, I am all for historical fiction that shows that these men were flawed individuals and not idealised heroes, but this kind of your-idol-has-feet-of-clay approach never feels feminist to me.

The Instrumentalist doubles down. It’s based on the real life of Anna Maria della Pietà, an orphan growing up in the Ospedale della Pietà in Venice after being abandoned there as a baby at the very end of the seventeenth century. By the early eighteenth century, both she and her fellow orphans were being tutored in music by Antonio Vivaldi, who became master of violin at the Ospedale in 1703. Vivaldi composed most of his major works while he was at the Ospedale, and also wrote a lot of music for the figlie di coro, the student orchestra. Anna Maria would go on to have a long and successful career in her own right, being named ‘Maestra’ at the age of just twenty-four and composing and performing throughout her life until her death in 1782, when she was in her eighties.

This is irresistible material, and it’s not surprising that Constable was drawn to it – Anna Maria della Pietà has already inspired at least one other historical novel, Barbara Quick’s Vivaldi’s Virgins. But The Instrumentalist doesn’t work in any way at all. Anna Maria herself is a big problem. I liked the idea that, growing up in the Ospedale, she might gradually perceive that the only option for her other than a forced marriage would be entry into the figlie di coro, and so set her sights on a place in the orchestra. Constable takes it too far, however, giving Anna Maria fierce artistic ambition from the start, which feels as inauthentic as much of the rest of the historical detail in this novel. Anna Maria ‘offers a cool professional smile’ to Vivaldi as an impoverished teenage orphan girl at a time when the very idea of being ‘professional’ would make little sense. She wants to get into the figlie two years early because otherwise ‘she will be average, normal’ – what on earth does this even mean in the early modern period? I’m very relaxed about writers playing with modern language and concepts in historical fiction if they know what they’re doing (see: Lauren Groff’s Matrix), but Constable’s choices just weaken her story.

It gets worse. Anna Maria is intensely difficult to like. I actually appreciated that Constable made her so single-minded that she becomes a bit ruthless. This rings more true for her background and situation than would generosity and solidarity. But she’s a terrible cliche, somebody who can pick up a violin and just knows how to play, who is unable to fail unless there’s some external intervention like a broken finger. Then there’s what the narrative does to Vivaldi. Constable seems to feel that she can’t foreground Anna Maria without tearing him down. She strongly implies that he sexually assaults and rapes the girls, shows him destroying Anna Maria’s work, and she also makes Anna Maria a crucial part of the composition of both La stravaganza and the Four Seasons. This is a historical nonsense. Writing for the Guardian, Constable outright admits that all the Vivaldi experts she spoke to told her that Vivaldi did not compose with the girls of the figlie, but ‘I still feel there might be more to the story. The ingredients are just too compelling: enormous talent and ambition, plus endless demand for new music, plus the fact that we have erased or demeaned the role women have played in the arts generally.’ So, basically, she wanted it to be true so she made it up. I just don’t think this is OK. Vivaldi himself was also hardly privileged; he was born poor, with health problems, and died in poverty, believing his music had been forgotten.

On top of all this... The Instrumentalist is very badly written. It has an incredible setting but no atmosphere whatsoever, thanks to vague writing like this: 'At the edge of the promenade, where hefty wooden pillars shoot up and gondoliers tie their boats, merchants have laid rugs and wares. There are spices and silk cloths and salts and carved woods, feathers and carnival masks and cottons and coloured wools. And then there is the wonder on the faces of those stepping on to shore. Venice is made from moments like this: starry-eyed dreamers first touching foot to land... Every step is a movement, every beat marks a change'. It's repetitive, melodramatic, and although she has some musical training, Constable tells us nothing at all about learning or playing the violin. Anna Maria is given synaesthesia, a device I thoroughly hate in fiction, and here it seems to be used to evade descriptions, so every violin piece is written like this: 'She is away, chasing reds and blues, tumbling with the speed of the greens and greys'. We get no sense at all of the actual music. This is such a shame, because I still so want to read the novel this promised to be. Maybe, despite that title, I'll just have to check out Vivaldi's Virgins.

Beautifully written book. Vivid portrayal of Anna Maria della Pieta, fantastic descriptions. The use of colour was fabulous.