The reign of Louis XIV has been so thoroughly examined that many scholars assume there are no further secrets left to be revealed. That is, until new research makes us step back and reevaluate our most basic frames of reference. The authors of this fascinating and well-written study have done just that, asking us to take another look at visual tropes of conquest that are so familiar as to have become virtually invisible to art historians. Meredith Martin and Gillian Weiss have studied the documented history of slavery that existed not just in the distant realm of classical antiquity but as a widespread economic system in seventeenth-century France, and with this knowledge, they present a groundbreaking reinterpretation of visual art in this period.

In 1315, King Louis X issued an edict abolishing serfdom in France, and further declaring that any slave who may set foot in France would thereupon become free. There were, however, some key exceptions that continued well into the seventeenth century. Slavery was still permitted in colonial territories controlled by the French, a policy that would not be revoked definitively until 1848. A less well-known fact is that French ships at sea were entitled to use enslaved people to man their oars. The authors make a credible and often compelling argument that many of the figures in maritime-themed art were likely not allegories of river gods or other benign figments of the imagination, but rather galley slaves.

The representation of enslaved people was at its core a symbol of dominance, cultural and political, over people considered morally inferior such as convicts or religious infidels, including Muslims, Jews, and Protestants. The authors argue convincingly that the overt or implicit depiction of such individuals in art invoked the superiority of French kings over their enemies, paralleling the triumph of Christianity over those supposedly false faiths. The book includes myriad examples from a variety of media, not only painting and sculpture but also medals, maps, historical treatises, and ship carvings.

Some of the artistic examples are surprisingly familiar, such as Peter Paul Rubens's famous painting of the Debarkation of Marie de’ Medici at Marseille (1621–25). At the far left, an armored Knight of Malta is surrounded by a motley crew of bare-limbed men with shaven heads. The authors note that there were one hundred enslaved rowers who brought the queen's flagship from Italy to France, and they suggest that these figures represent galley slaves (13–14). Whether these figures represent actual slaves or so-called barbarian sailors, their presence creates a visual progression from the darkness of infidelity on the painting's left to the illuminated figure of the Christian queen in the center, radiant in a white silk dress. Another example is Martin Desjardins's sculptures of The Four Captives, designed for the base of the monument to Louis XIV in the Place des Victoires, erected in 1686. Although the king's statue was later destroyed during the Revolution, the sculptures survive today in the Louvre. The chained figures are identified as Louis's enemies Spain, Brandenburg, the Holy Roman Empire, and Holland, but the authors point out parallels with other sculptural representations of enslaved Turks and Moors, symbolizing France's dominance in the Mediterranean. Inscriptions at the base of the monument referred to the suppression of heresy and piracy, and columns at the four corners of the Place des Victoires bore illustrations of victory over Barbary pirates and the reception of ambassadors from Morocco and Algiers (113).

The authors’ wide-ranging, interdisciplinary research provides a context that gives us new insights about seventeenth-century French art, and how it would have been understood by the artists and viewers of that period. The source materials are documented in extensive chapter notes and an index, and the large-format volume is beautifully produced with high-quality illustrations, many of which are in color. This book's significance goes further, however. It reveals how deeply the leitmotif of the esclave turc was interwoven into political and religious doctrine, as well as into the very concepts of civilization and barbarism. Maritime art is only part of the story, and this book is an essential read for anyone interested in European history from the late Renaissance through the nineteenth century.