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A sweet and clever Antoinette herself narrates the story from the beyond, telling of life trapped in Versailles’ gilded maze among the mirrors and fountains, and the courtiers who launch plots against her. "She wasn’t one of those women who wrote masses of letters," says Davis. "That leaves her more of a cipher and more open to interpretation."
Although Davis did tremendous amounts of research for the novel — reading all three volumes of the Duke of Saint-Simon’s memoirs, for example — she didn’t let it drag the book down. Her Antoinette is as unstuffy as they come. She tells of her first night with the introverted King, who shies away from his bride, preferring the plum tart he has brought into their nuptial bed. She describes mornings with Monsieur Léonard, who climbs a small ladder and, armed with nettle juice, bean flour, steel pins, small pillows and pomade, creates the royal coiffeur.
"Cypress and black marigolds and wheat sheaves and fruit-filled cornucopias — a hairdo reminding everyone that while they mourned the loss of one King, they also looked forward to the bounty the next would bring," Davis writes. "Or how about the Inoculation Hairdo, commemorating the Princess’ victory over smallpox. One day Léonard made me Minerva. One day he made me an English garden with lawns, hills and streams. One day, he made me the world."
The queen who bathed in a swan-shaped tub and glided across Versailles’ marble floors with tiny steps, practicing the Versailles Walk, in diamond-soled slippers, seems an unlikely subject for Davis, whose last novel, "The Walking Tour," centered on a couple’s extra-marital adventures during a walking tour of Wales. But the centuries since Marie Antoinette’s death haven’t dimmed the doomed queen’s power of enchantment.