Cellini: Makes Caravaggio Look Like Norman Rockwell

For sheer artistic genius, pope-dissing and homicidal tendencies, the work often referred to as the first modern autobiography (dictated to a assistant), the Autobiography of Benenvuto Cellini, the mid 16th century Florentine sculptor and goldsmith, squashes all competitors, and is the singular greatest contribution to literature, or would be, if Cellini himself is to be believed. A fast and bracing read, if only to confirm that total chaos, brilliant skill and unmitigated ego drove creativity in the Renaissance.

In spite of the fact that he tends to murder his opponents, and his rivals, and people who insult him in passing, he has the direct protection of the Papacy- in the sense of showing up at the Pope's place and wowing him with artistic skill- and finds his crimes usually forgiven, and his work interrupted only by war and plague and syphillis and intrigue. He drops by and chats with the Pope all the time, and his work day is constantly interrupted by yet another sword fight where he fights off a large gang of cops, rivals, ex-lovers, etc.

The book is an extraordinary picture of the era, and although violent and egotistical (which is backed up by a legacy of excellent sculpture) he is far from an monster, palling around with Michealangelo, honoring the skill of other artists, standing up for friends. There are appealing scenes of huge dinners attended by famous artists of the era. Yet he betrays Florence to serve the Pope, he captains a cannon and kills hundreds of soliders invading Rome, he wields a wicked arquebuss. His evaluation of his own skill is not far off the mark, although there is a distinct horror vacuui that suggests an almost nervous restlessness.