Sofia Quotes in The Marriage Portrait
Chapter 7: Everything Changes Quotes
She looked at the delicate, scaled feet, which would never again cling to the twig of a tree or the stone lintel of a window; she looked at the folded, layered wings, which would not be outstretched, catching the upwards motion of a breeze, would not carry the bird over roofs and streets. She looked at her painting, saw where it had failed to capture the exact line of the beak, the lustrous green of the soft throat.
Sofia’s “no” tolled through her head. No, she had said, definite and sure. She had looked at Vitelli and said: No.
Twelve-year-old Lucrezia paints a dead starling while Sofia lies to Vitelli about her menstrual cycle in order to delay her wedding to Alfonso. In viewing the bird’s body, she considers the bleak trajectory her own life has taken. Distraught by the prospect of being forced to marry Alfonso, Lucrezia envisions herself like the starling: stripped of the wild freedom to fly wherever she pleases, devoid of all hope. Her own act of painting the small bird’s corpse can be read as foreshadowing her own marriage portrait, which Alfonso commissions as a means of controlling her image before he attempts to murder her. Here, Lucrezia notes how her own work fails “to capture the exact line of the beak, the lustrous green of the soft throat,” highlighting how art often falls short of portraying the true essence of a being.
Conversely, Sofia’s “no” gives Lucrezia hope. Her repetition of the nurse’s simple response signifies how revolutionary it feels to her for a woman to deny the request of a man in a patriarchal world. Knowing that Sofia is lying about her period amplifies Lucrezia’s sense of wonder—never before has an adult so definitively stood up for her. The protection and solidarity that Sofia offers Lucrezia gives her courage that she, too, can defy the powerful men that seek to determine her fate.
Chapter 13: Man Asleep, Ruler at Rest Quotes
She tightens her fingers around the rosary, once more, and thinks of the small painting she has been working on for weeks: a nurse standing in the middle of a rug, looking defiantly up at a tall adviser; rabbits, many of them, gambol delightedly around her feet, their silver-brown coats glinting in the light. If looked at very closely, it could be seen that the nurse has her fingers crossed. Lucrezia made it specially for Sofia, the keeper of all her secrets.

