An enthralling biography about one of the most intriguing women of the Victorian age: the first self-invented international social celebrity. Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from the first chapter of Cristina Morató’s Divine Lola: A True Story of Scandal and Celebrity, which releases on September 1st 2021.
SYNOPSIS
Lola Montez was one of the most celebrated and notorious women of the nineteenth century. A raven-haired Andalusian who performed her scandalous “Spider Dance” in the greatest performance halls across Europe, she dazzled and beguiled all who met her with her astonishing beauty, sexuality, and shocking disregard for propriety. But Lola was an impostor, a self-invention. Born Eliza Gilbert, the beautiful Irish wild child escaped a stifling marriage and reimagined herself as Lola the Sevillian flamenco dancer and noblewoman, choosing a life of adventure, fame, sex, and scandal rather than submitting to the strictures of her era.
Lola cast her spell on the European aristocracy and the most famous intellectuals and artists of the time, including Alexandre Dumas, Franz Liszt, and George Sand, and became the obsession of King Ludwig I of Bavaria. She then set out for the New World, arriving in San Francisco at the height of the gold rush, where she lived like a pioneer and performed for rowdy miners before making her way to New York. There, her inevitable downfall was every bit as dramatic as her rise. Yet there was one final reinvention to come for the most defiant woman of the Victorian age—a woman known as a “savage beauty” who was idolized, romanticized, vilified, truly known by no one, and a century ahead of her time.
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE
It had been thirteen years since he’d said goodbye to her for the last time, but upon learning of her death, he found himself deeply moved. In all that time, King Ludwig I of Bavaria had been unable to forget his beloved Lola Montez, the beautiful Spanish dancer who’d burst into his life like a whirlwind one sunny fall morning. How could he fail to remember October 8, 1846, when he’d first seen her decked out in a black velvet dress that accentuated her splendid figure and the delicate pallor of her skin? He’d fallen in love instantly, captivated by her beauty, fire, and breathtaking personality.
Over the next few months, he had devoted himself obsessively, indifferent to her past and the notorious reputation that preceded her. In the conservative Bavarian court, rumors flew that the king had lost his head over a scandal-tainted woman who was trying to meddle in state affairs. Ignoring the critics, Ludwig granted her the title of countess, offered her a generous pension, and bought her a palatial mansion that he visited daily. Now, in his old age, a smile played on his lips as he recalled that happy period during which he’d felt so profoundly rejuvenated. He still trembled when he remembered the afternoons they’d spent reading Don Quixote in front of the fireplace, whiling away the hours dreaming about a life together far from the dull Munich court. It is true that he had a weakness for beautiful women and had been an incorrigible ladies’ man, but Lola was different from the others—she was his great love. Though he’d lost his throne and his subjects’ respect because of her, he bore her no ill will. He’d kept tabs on his lover’s adventures through the years, after she had been forced to flee Bavaria and then had swiftly become an international celebrity. His ambassador to Paris sent newspaper clippings about her scandals, her love affairs, and the success she was enjoying as an actress and dancer on tours of Australia and the United States.
Without a doubt, Lola Montez had been an unconventional woman. She could be kind, generous, considerate, and even meek, but she was also reckless, volatile, and wild. She rode a horse like an Amazon, smoked cigarettes, was handy with a revolver, and wielded her riding whip against any man who dared to contradict her. In a time when women dedicated themselves to housework, she had traveled the world and had trodden the boards of the most important stages, from London to Sydney, even though her talent as a dancer left much to be desired. The king had kept hundreds of letters that she’d written to him over the course of their stormy relationship, as well as the poems she’d inspired as his muse and lover. He also kept, almost as a holy relic, Lola’s foot sculpted in marble, which he used to kiss every night before bed. Today, upon receiving the letter from New York, he was overwhelmed once more by nostalgia:
Sire,
In early childhood, [I was] school companion in Scotland with a young girl who I little thought would ever have requested me on her death bed to write to your Majesty . . . She often spoke to me of your Majesty, and of your kindness and benevolence, which
she deeply felt—And wished me to tell you she had changed her life and companions.
And now I redeem the promise I made to the late Mme. Lola Montez, known to me as Eliza Gilbert, and to add that she wished me to let you know she retained a sincere regard for your great kindness to the end of her life.
She died a true penitent, relying on her Savior for pardon and acceptance, triumphing only in His merit . . .
I have the Honor to be your Majesty’s Obedt. & Humble Sert.
Maria E. Buchanan
Ludwig grew pensive for a moment, his eyes misting over. “My dear Lolita, did you ever love me?”
