Richard Kurti writes about the inspiration behind his Basilica Diaries thriller series, set in Renaissance Rome at the time of the rebuilding of St Peter’s Basilica. He finds contemporary echoes, some unexpected…
It was extraordinary to witness.
Even in the tech-driven 21st century, with 10,000 satellites circling the Earth and information flowing between eight billion people at the speed of light, when Pope Francis died and the cardinals went into conclave, the world’s media descended on Rome.
Despite trade wars, hot wars and diplomatic wars grabbing the headlines, all eyes remained fixed on the roof of the Sistine Chapel, while tens of thousands of pilgrims flocked to St Peter’s square to be embraced by the outstretched arms of the Bernini colonnade. It felt as if St Peter’s Basilica had always been there and would remain until the end of time. “Upon this rock I will build my Church.” (Matthew 16:18). And yet…
Just 500 years ago, the basilica that we know didn’t even exist. Standing on that site was Old St Peter’s, a church built in the 4th century over the saint’s tomb, on the orders of the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great (272–337).
Completely different in look and feel, it followed the design principles of a typical Roman basilica and became the setting for the coronation of all popes. But 11 centuries later, Old St Peter’s was falling into ruin. The roof leaked, the walls were cracking, ancient mosaics were crumbling to dust.
A similar fate had befallen the city of Rome. In classical times, it had been the first city to have a population of one million people, but by 1500 this had shrunk to around 25,000. Many of the once-magnificent buildings were dilapidated, streets that had echoed to sound of victorious Roman legions were now overrun with weeds and wild animals.
It was the Borgia Pope Alexander VI (1431–1503) who made the first serious attempt to change the situation. He realised that a magnificent new basilica would not only celebrate the authority of the Church, but it could also trigger a renaissance of the entire city. Investment leads to confidence, which leads to more investment. A virtuous circle that sounds like a slam dunk, but it was the start of 126 years of wrangling and conflict that would test the willpower of 22 popes.
The first howls of protest were raised against the demolition of the old basilica, for although it was falling down, it was much-loved by pilgrims who travelled across Europe to worship at the last resting place of St Peter.
It’s easy to dismiss these as the objections of luddites, but imagine if some controversial leader like Elon Musk decided to knock down Westminster Abbey and replace it with an ultra-modern cathedral that celebrated the Brutalist school of architecture. There would be protests and petitions galore.
It was the drama of this moment that made me think this could be the perfect starting point for a novel swirling around the machinations, politics, wrangling and corruption of Renaissance Rome. As I dug deeper into the research, I was struck by how many contemporary themes resonated with the struggle to build St Peter’s, and the idea for a series of historical thrillers, the Basilica Diaries, was born.
Once the decision to demolish had been taken, the Vatican was plunged into endless battles about the artistic vision that would shape the new basilica, followed by the usual wrangling about the choice of architect.
The actual construction brought immense physical and logistical challenges: How could you continue to worship in a building that was being slowly dismantled around you? How could you prevent your successors from undoing the work you had begun? (When they abolished HS2, the UK government was very quick to sell off all the land they’d acquired to prevent successive governments from reversing their decision.)
And how could you make sure the building wouldn’t collapse when no-one had ever attempted to build a church on this vast scale? Did the dome that looked so elegant on paper break all the known laws of physics?
And these challenges are before you even consider the vast sums of money that would be needed. The great irony is that the enormous cost of building St Peter’s put Vatican finances under such severe strain that the Medici Pope Leo X (1475–1521) initiated a mass sale of indulgences, which became one of the triggers of the Protestant Reformation – it would split the Christian church forever.
These themes, which have resonance in both the 21st and the 16th centuries, provide the backbone for each of the novels in the Basilica Diaries.
In Omens of Death, Pope Alexander VI’s decision to demolish Old St Peter’s triggers a series of bizarre and horrific murders in Rome, setting up an investigation that exposes the eternal struggle between Reason and the Irrational.
The launch of a competition to design the new basilica in Palette of Blood opens the door to the murky realpolitik of art; is art the purest expression of civilisation, or are evil and greed inextricably wound around its heart? Think Hollywood politics on steroids!
The dangerous and destructive power of misinformation and disinformation are explored in Demon of Truth, when St Peter’s tomb is uncovered during excavations, but found to contain only animal bones. As the story develops, it has echoes with the terrifying power and reach (combined with a shocking lack of integrity) of modern social media platforms.
Carnival of Chaos starts with a horrific discovery: an abandoned ship is found drifting in the mouth of the Tiber; on board are the bodies of three hundred men packed in the hold, migrant workers shipped over from North Africa as cheap labour to cut the building costs. The novel goes on to explore the ruthless excesses of capitalism that are unleashed by huge construction projects, and asks the reader to question which is more powerful, God or gold?
Most important of all, putting a female investigator at the heart of these stories was an attempt to shine a light on how many brilliant and dynamic women helped shape modern Europe, even though the spotlight of history often favours men.
When I pitched the idea of these historical thrillers to Sapere Books, the editors immediately understood what I was trying to do, and have been incredibly supportive, helping to keep me on a path that will satisfy fans of both contemporary crime and historical fiction.
It was an uncanny (but inspiring) coincidence that, just as I was immersed in plotting the final book of the series, Pope Francis died and the Vatican went onto a conclave footing.
It made me realise that the struggle to build St Peter’s Basilica was worth every ducat; that the enormous cost and sacrifice was ultimately a sound investment, because half a millennium later, the building still has the power to cast a spell around the globe.
It is by design rather than coincidence that the Sistine Chapel is the most visited room in the world.
Carnival of Chaos by Richard Kurti was published on 11 April, 2025.
See more about this book.
Richard has been a professional writer for over 25 years, working for clients such as Warner Bros, Universal and Fox Searchlight, as well as the BBC, ITV and Sky. More recently he diversified into radio drama. Carnival of Chaos is his fourth Basilica Diaries novel.
You may be interested in these related Historia features:
Early medieval Rome: the changing face of the Eternal City by Matthew Harffy
Henry VIII, impotence and the thorny question of male heirs by Carol McGrath
A game of gods: religion in a changing Roman world by Simon Turney and Gordon Doherty
Five surprising facts about Henry Benedict Stuart (Archpriest of St Peter’s for 56 years) by Calum E Cunningham and Stefano Baccolo
And some at a slight tangent:
Giulia Tofana: poisoner, murderer, saviour? by Cathryn Kemp
The truth about nuns in 16th-century Florence by DV Bishop
Slashing the face: punishing unfaithful women in Italy by Deborah Swift
Castrati: did the end justify the means? by Marilyn Pemberton
Images:
- The Church of St. Peter at Rome by Carington Bowles, before 1793: Yale Center for British Art (public domain)
- Fresco showing Constantine’s Old St. Peter’s Basilica as it looked in the 4th century: Wikimedia (public domain)
- Portrait of Pope Alexander VI by Cristofano dell’Altissimo, 1552: Uffizi Gallery via Wikimedia (public domain)
- View of Rome, c1490, from Weltchronik by Hartmann Schedel, 1493: Wikimedia (public domain)
- Elevation Showing the Exterior of Saint Peter’s Basilica from the South as Conceived by Michelangelo by Etienne DuPérac from Speculum Romanae Magnificentiae, 1558–61: Metropolitan Museum (public domain)
- Sistine Chapel, Vatican City: Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 3.0)
