There is something poetic about the The Medici Conspiracy; the art and antiquities it discusses are breathtaking, but it is not a beautiful book. It is written in a technical style that emphasizes information—even to the extent that it occasionally repeats itself—ahead of readability. It can be tedious, exacting, too focused on minutiae. It is a written reconstruction of an in situ archaeological dig; no outsider is ever going to “Ooh” and “Aah” over a plot of dirt with a few potsherds sticking out. Most would rather see the reconstructed Euphronios Krater sitting under glass.

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