A Ruby in Her Navel is yet another superb historical novel by Barry Unsworth. By his phenomenal standards, this book might at first appear somewhat one-paced, even one-dimensional, with its action set firmly in the place and time of its main character, Thurston Beauchamp, a young man in the service of King Roger of Sicily in the twelfth century. But if A Ruby in Her Navel might lack the immediacy and complexity of Stone Virgin, it approaches the beautifully portrayed picture of medieval life presented in Morality Play. Indeed, a group of travelling players also features in this novel, as in Morality Play, but this time it’s a troupe of belly dancers from Anatolia, on tour in southern Italy. The ruby and navel of the title both belong to Nasrin, the youngest, most beautiful and most provocative member of the group. But having written that they were touring Italy, a country name that in our eyes is merely mundane and perhaps innocuous, I am reminded of one of the most enduring features of Barry Unsworth’s book, which is its ability to re-draw one’s understanding of who we were.

It was Alison Weir who first did this for me, if you see what I mean. I read her biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine, the marriageable lady who became King Henry the Second of England’s queen. Again, there’s the name of a country… You see, at school we British school children learned a variety of history that filtered everything through a sieve of contemporary national requirements. I can remember being taught that during the medieval era, the English ruled most of France and largely held onto it until the Wars of the Roses (I was brought up in Yorkshire, another irrelevant aside). Possessions remained until Queen Mary finally gave up Calais with a cardiac etch. Alison Weir undid a school lifetime of history when she described the Angevin Empire, part of the pan-European expansion of the Franks. Based in Anjou, this empire comprised what we now call southern, western and northern France, plus all of England and Wales, and other bits at times (though never Scotland, hence that nation’s long-lasting alliance with the rival empire based on the Ile de France). When interpreted this way, it wasn’t English kings that ruled France, or vice-versa. It was an empire with its own lingua franca, langue d’oc. The countries, and with them the geographical, ethnic and cultural assumptions upon which we falsely base our interpretation of the past, simply did not exist. Thus the paradigms upon which we base our understanding of English-ness or French-ness become both irrelevant and inapplicable. And thus the troupe of belly dancers in A Ruby in Her Navel weren’t, therefore, in Italy. They were in the Kingdom of Sicily, a small but powerful and ambitious little Norman empire created out of the same Frankish expansion that spurned the enduring conquest of the Anglo-Saxons in 1066.

In A Ruby in her Navel Barry Unsworth presents medieval Europe in a way that brings the historical issues into focus and gives them life. Lands were conquered and their Muslim leaders deposed. But the new rulers had to politic their way to continued incumbency, recognising the interests of land-hungry knights, only temporarily defeated Muslim predecessors with friends nearby, Jewish merchants who did pragmatic business with anyone and everyone. And even within these groups there were divisions. Amongst the Christians there were two competing blocks, the Germanic Holy Roman Empire and the Byzantine remnants of Imperial Rome. And then there was the Pope with his own empire, interests and ability to raise an army. And then there were those who aspired to power from within and sought to depose a rival in their own house. The Crusades that primary school history presents has having something to do with religion thus become mere wars of conquest for booty.

In A Ruby in Her Navel Barry Unsworth thus gives immediate, tangible life to the feudalism of the time. We really do understand the politics, the interests, the motivations of the era. But we are led to it by our experience of the characters’ lives, not via instruction or polemic. And the message is more powerful for Thurston Beauchamp, because he aspires to the knighthood his father relinquished in favour of monasticism. Thurston is currently King Roger’s entertainments manager and has to travel to Italy (I am doing it again!) to buy herons, caged prey for the King’s peregrines. He does his deal, but meets the troupe of dancers and the resulting stirrings of the spirit provoke him to ship them back home to do the same for his master. He falls in love with Nasrin, one of the group. Meanwhile Alicia, Thurston’s childhood sweetheart, suddenly reappears in his life. They were at school together until she was whisked away at a marriageable fourteen to be conjoined to a knight with a big sword and real estate in the Middle East, the Norman Outremer. Alicia’s husband, it seems, has now snuffed it, and again Thurston’s spirits rise when he realises that she is again available, again an unaccompanied, unclaimed, newly-vacated vessel.

The belly dancers go down well at home, of course, and so Thurston’s star is in the ascendant. He gets a new mission, commissioned by he knows not who and which causes accounting difficulties for the Muslim “head of civil service” to whom he reports.

By now you have probably guessed that there is a plot. And it’s a vast one, involving insiders, outsiders, a pope or two, Muslims, Germans, Jews, Byzantines and all the other interests competing their share of or their consolidation of feudal power. This really is top-down government, but the trick, once power is achieved, clearly is just to hold on. And sometimes you consolidate your home base by having a fiddle or two on foreign soil, a political strategy not unknown in our own times.

Our Thurston analyses the plot, works it all out and then acts to influence the outcome. Along the way he grapples with his rising dilemma in relation to Nasrin and Alicia, and thus his life is eventually transformed. As in all ages, he follows his heart (by which, of course, I mean his brain). A Ruby in Her Navel thus reveals that, as ever with Barry Unsworth, it is a multi-layered, complex, surprising and yet deeply human tale.

A fascinating picture of a period and place with a rich diversity of culture. The main character writes in the first person,revealing unawares his strengths and weaknesses of character, leading to his change of heart in the end.

A novel of palace intrigue set in 12th century Palermo. We are at the court of King Roger II, a Norman, who rules an ethnically diverse realm in which he tries to balance the rights of Christian and Muslim and Jew. Only the Muslims, however, seem content with this arrangement, perhaps because they comprise King Roger's most trusted counselors. He mistrusts his own people, the Normans, and for good reason as events reveal. The Catholics have just lost the Second Crusade—ignominiously and with terrible loss of life—so they are hardly in a mood for pluralism. They seek closer alignment with the crown, greater control of its offices and pursestrings, and expulsion of all Muslims from Sicily. Thurstan Beauchamp, the narrator, works in the palace in the Diwan of Control. He is of Norman ancestry and a Christian. His supervisor, Yusuf Ibm Mansur, seeks to train him in the arts of intrigue, for the factions are constantly conspiring against each other and Thurston's face is an open book.

Some time before the present action, Thurston's dreams of knighthood were quashed when his father inexplicably turned ascetic and gave all of his worldly goods to the monastery he then entered. Thurston was thus promptly disinherited, and is understandably unhappy that his birthright should have been traded away solely for the comfort of his father's eternal soul. Now he must work for a living. His post, under Yusuf's guidance, involves travel. On his first trip of the novel he runs into his first love, Lady Alicia, who was torn from him when he was 15 or so and sent off to marry a corpulent crusader in the Holy Land. Now, 20 years later, here she is, newly widowed, on horseback, riding with groom and lady-in-waiting through some provincial backwater to which Thurston had been dispatched on an errand. His love for her and his dreams of knighthood are subsequently rekindled. In time, she expresses her belief that is was Providence that brought them together again and she announces her intention to make him her husband.

There is the larger political context which undergirds the intrigues at the palace. Most threateningly, King Conrad III of Germany and Emperor Manuel I Comnenus of Byzantium are allying as a means of dethroning Roger, whom they view as a usurper, and expelling all Muslims from Sicily. It is King Roger's hope to strike up a correpondence with Conrad in an effort to break his alliance with Byzantium. The writing is emotionally affecting and the deployment of suspense masterful. Unsworth's handling of the complex plot seems effortless. There are numerous plot twists and betrayals and other surprises that I am deliberately not discussing that will set your heart pounding and curl your hair. The title story of the ruby is just one of these. This is narrative of a very high order, and the tone is beautifully modulated throughout. I liked Unsworth's Booker-winning Sacred Hunger immensely, but The Ruby In Her Navel is the finer work. Comparisons are specious, but solely in terms of artistic achievement I put the book on a par with William Styron's Sophie's Choice. It is among the limited number of great novels that one will be privileged to read in this too brief life.

This is another fine historical novel by Barry Unsworth, It's set in the 1100's in Palermo, around the time of the crusades. His plot lines are interesting and compelling, and his use of language always superb. I have read many of his books, and they do not disappoint.

An intriguing atmospheric 12th century historical novel.

Oh I love this book so much! I was so thirsty for one good historical novel and Unsworth never disappointed me so far.

This book is telling story about 12th century Sicily during the rule of Normans. Curiously I watched few days ago on History channel one series about this subject and it helped me to get wider perspective about what Unsworth wrote here.

12th Century Sicily was perfect place of harmony between Muslims (Saracens) and Christians (both Catholic and Byzantine) under the rule of King Roger II of Sicily. Roger drew round him distinguished men of various races, such as the famous Arab geographer Muhammad al-Idrisi. The king welcomed the learned, and he practiced toleration towards the several creeds, races and languages of his realm. He organized a multiracial, multinational kingdom in which Arabic, Byzantine, Lombard, Jewish, and Norman cultures produced a brilliant cosmopolitan state. As such he was probably the most able ruler in 12th-century Europe.
This harmony is lovely metaphor of the present days views of multiculturalism and the reasons for its end 9 centuries ago are sadly the same ones why nowadays multiculturalism can’t find fertile soil.

We can see how some of the magnificent monuments that still exist have been built under the influence of all three religions which is undoubtedly the reason why are so beautiful. Also we can see glimpse of medieval politics: and there Serbs are entering on the stage (I was quite surprised). Indeed Unsworth is great historian, Serbs were preparing rebellion against Byzantines. The story goes that King Roger financially supported that rebellion to distract Manuel I Komnenos, Emperor of the Byzantine Empire to attack Sicily. Indeed Serbs haven’t been presented in such a perfect light but then, who could be completely positive in 12th century, age of bribes, lies, intrigues...?

Unsowrth beautifully paints emotion in Christian hearts after disaster of Second Crusade as well as perfectly clear picture how greedy, bloodthirsty crusaders were and how their reasons and actions were non-Christian. I’m glad they lost it (I know this must sound silly) and I am Christian. On the other hand I always had huge respect toward Arab culture and their contribution to the science. After this novel, even more.
You really have to ask yourself how on earth those men of church thought they are leading Christian life? All what they’ve done was lies, bribes and murders. There is one fantastic scene when man of Church, near Pope is convincing one of the character to do something very non-Christian under the fresco that is showing King Constantine how he kneels before the Pope offering him Eastern Kingdom. What Unsworth didn’t tell (and how could he considering that he would jump out of the entire book) and what I’ve saw at that series on History channel is that the same fresco have been used as a proof that Catholic Christianity and the Pope have legal right to take Eastern Empire and few centuries later it has been proved that the fresco is a fake. Knowing that, the scene of convincing that character to do something (I’m avoiding spoilers) under the same fresco has quite profound and obviously hidden meaning.

And of course there is personal story of love, loyalty, betrayal, dreams, lust … oh you name it! But all this (no matter how previous sentence sounds) couldn’t be more far from cliché.

Beautiful novel! I’m highly recommending it!

It was distressing to read this book because you care about the main character and he is heading toward a terrible fate involving betraying another person that he cares about. The ground in which this act of betrayal takes root is the atmosphere of intolerance of Christians for Moslems in Sicily in the 12th century, during the time of the Crusades. The currents of this atmosphere are depicted quite vividly. But that’s the main story. In many ways, the novel is also rewarding in its depiction of society and court intrigues, and no question about it, the Eastern dancer (and the rest of her troupe) mentioned in the title.

It was a little too much like Halsband der Taube, so I put it down. I can only read so many far east/harem-related stories before I stop caring.

'The Ruby in her Navel' is set in the Norman kingdom of Sicily under King Roger II (the 12th century). Latin, Greek, Arab and Jew live together in precarious harmony in the city of Palermo. Due to the second crusade the opinion on the Muslims in Palermo has changed; they are seen more and more as a treat.

The book is narrated by Thurstan Beauchamp, a Norman Christian who works for Yusuf, a Muslim Arab, in the palace‘s central finance office. The job includes the management of brides and blackmail and the gathering of secret information for the king. Thurstan, however also acts as the Purveyor of Pleasures and Shows. During one of his trips in Italy, Thurstan encounters a troupe of wandering dancers and musicians – among them the beautiful Nesrin – which he sends to Palermo to perform for the king. On this same journey Thurstan also encounters Alicia, the woman he loved as a youth and who has just returned from the holy land. Before he knows, Thurstan finds himself caught in a tangle of plots.

This story at first is rather slow and confusing. After an hour however(I listened to the audio version) I was fully in the story and enjoying it. Despite loving history and reading, I’m always a bit cautious when it comes to historical novels, especially when situated in the middle Ages. It mostly includes too much gruesome details of public executions or fights – but this certainly isn’t the case in this fine novel. And the medieval setting can be a bit forced in some books, that this certainly isn’t so with ‘the Ruby in her Navel’. In fact, as reader, you are transported back through time and yet, there is something very contemporary about this story and its plot. The themes are of course quite universal. It’s a story about ambition, love, passion, mystery, betrayal and revenge, but also about racial, religious and political tensions that are still with us today.

Definitely worth the effort as there are many twits and plots that keep you guessing till the end.

With his brilliant novel, Songs of the Kings, Unsworth moved into one of my three favorite contemporary writers. He has an eye for period detail in his historical novels, but his strength is the subtle context that comments vividly on 21st-century events.

For example, Songs of the Kings, when it appeared in 2003, used Odysseus to demonstrate the madness of kings, and the relative ease with which they use saga to lead individuals to their doom. Three months after its release, the Iraq War began.

In The Ruby in her Navel, Unsworth brings to life a multi-cultural, multi-religious Sicily. It is one of the great European kingdoms, but there is trouble brewing. The utter failure of the 2nd Crusade has raised suspicions against Palermo's muslim population. Latin Lombards are moving in to challenge the Norman elite. The Byzantine Empire has Sicily in its sights, too.

It makes for a lousy time for Thurstan Beauchamp to fall in love. Seeking advancement--a possible knighthood--for himself as well as his Saracen patron: his naievete about the church and the king is put to the test. When his loyalty to king isn't tested, his loyalty to two ladies is.

For the last 250 pages, I just couldn't put this book down. I enjoyed it better than Unsworth's Booker-winning Sacred Hunger--almost as well as SOTK.

It started slow for me and I was a little confused (doesn't take much). It quickly picked up and I got into the rhythm of the story. It was enjoyable enough but I always felt like I was on the outside looking in - through foggy windows. I'm sure it was probably just the foggy state of my mind at the time. All in all it was a lovely story but maybe not as sensational as I had hoped.

Almost very good. I did like a lot of it, enjoyed the historical period – 12thC Sicily – and the politics. I very much liked the perspective of the narrator, clearly not a 21st century person. But it did drag a bit in places. And I was rolling my eyes as the narrator on more than one occasion made variations on the old “had I but known….” remark. Yeah, yeah. I will say that, as the narrator bitterly regrets things he did or didn’t do over the course of the tale, the remark isn’t entirely unsuitable, but once would have been enough. More is just too heavy-handed. I really expect Unsworth, whose best work I deeply admire, to write with more finesse than that.