This is the biblical story of Mary and Joseph transplanted into the real world where people fall in love, get married, fall out of love etc.. Joseph is portrayed as a bit of a man about town, liked by all the young women and given to occasional flirting with them. He first meets Mary as a young girl, and it’s only later that he wins her hand. The story is narrated mostly by Joseph’s servant, who describes the attraction his master holds for the women of the village, his eventual betrothal to Mary despite the attentions of older mistresses, and then his rage when he discovers that she’s pregnant despite the fact that their marriage has never been consummated. Joseph stays with Mary and helps her bring up their son, and eventually dies, still in the dark about the secret of Jesus’ birth.


Readers are placed in an ironic position since they have foreknowledge of the story and, therefore, the overview that Joseph lacks. But the book does tell a well-known story in a different way, fleshing it out with realistic details. Jesus is portrayed as a normal son who is nevertheless very intelligent and already shows a predilection for looking after the outcast, the poor and the sick. Joseph treats him like any father would and occasionally they argue, since Jesus is quite rebellious, Joseph getting angry at Mary for taking their son’s side as it undermines his authority.


This is definitely an interesting picture of life in a less familiar part of the ancient world, but emotionally it is clearly a glamourised version of Italian provincial life, the lads and lasses growing up, messing around but then settling down and having bambinos and so forth.


For Love, Only for Love is written with a charming, Italianate, sympathy for youth and childhood which removes the stiffness of the historical novel. Campanile propels his colourful barque with just the right amount of exotic puff in its sails. LR + RL

‘Phoenicians wearing embroidered trousers under their tunics...men with goatskin cloaks coming from the plains of Anatolia... Some ladies, to indicate their position as married women, denied the approach of any man other than their husband, wore a short golden chain linking their ankles, and walked in tiny steps...’ p49