"'We are well aware that he brought into your tavern a quantity of stolen bread, stolen violently, through looting and rioting." A HA! I knew that loaf of bread was bad news!
I feel like we should note the strength of Manzoni's dialogue, its fluidity and its depth. The innkeeper's conversation w/ the notary, for example, perfectly captures his ambivalence b/w his deference in the name of his safety and his protest in the name of justice. He walks the line.
“The hero of our story” gets a lesson on the power of words spoken in vino veritas. He might be foolish and naive, but seems to be a quick learner as he wiggles his way out of this latest predicament.
alarm bells went off when the innkeeper calls Renzo "Stubborn mountain boy" (but only muttered out of earshot, not to his face). To me, it sounds insulting, though each of the words are tame, and are a literal accurate description. He is stubborn. He is from the mountain. And he is a boy. But the combination of the three, taken in this context, his general bearing, suggests he is being pegged as an outsider, an upstart, a hooligan. These aren't sympathetic qualities, yet I sense an affinity.
A sophisticated and ubiquitous police force, and "depositions," can feel a bit anachronistic. But actually, in my opinion, the best historical fiction doesn't blunder into blatant anachronisms, but has a feel that to a modern reader feels contemporary and timeless. I think this involves choice of words, a modern vernacular, with a function in part of drawing connections with contemporary realism, rather than introducing institutions and technologies from outside the time and place dramatized. This is one thing Hilary Mantel did so well. Archaic language is actually bad writing. This is one way a historical novel speaks to us in our time. Here, clearly the translator has adroitly refreshed this novel as one for our time.
I like the way Manzoni is able to capture the essence of the innkeeper. The quintessential good innkeeper/publican is able to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. He can be all things to all men. He can combine a ruthless or venal streak with common humanity and compassion.
Somehow reading all the comments I wonder if I'm reading the same chapter everyone else did? 🤨
Other than Renzo quickly learning from his mistakes, I felt the chapter played again and again on the theme of weak-minded people acting in their own self-interest, mostly out of fear of greater powers, and in resistance to whatever sympathetic human tendencies might arise when they're face to face with someone they see as a hapless innocent, our Renzo.
The paragraph on swindlers seemed to me to apply to them all (as well as to the contemporary world full of opportunist pseudo-politicians). And the description of the effort of such people to win others to their side when they see themselves losing seems to apply to each of these characters, small and larger -- but not to Renzo himself in his appeal for help, which seemed to me straightforward and (as always?) naively confident.
As for the spy being a spy for the police -- I don't see his presence as signifying a "sophisticated and ubiquitous police force," rather some ordinary network of spies, and possibly a spy who plays for all sides. I think this kind of spying was pretty common in Renaiisance Italy, but maybe someone else knows more about this than I do. Also, in terms of Renzo's fate, I wonder how much difference there is between his being a police spy and what I feared, a spy for Don R.?
"Stubborn mountain boy" was definitely dismissive (maybe to argue away his own near affection) and "redneck" even more so, but "redneck" bothered my ear for its specificity to the US.
With Renzo (and perhaps with others), the author is very astute at pointing out that the very attributes that make the character likeable/heroic are the same things that lead to his downfall. For example, his temperate nature causes the alcohol to make him even drunker; his demand for fairness and just laws eventually causes him to give up his name to the spy.
However, sober Renzo does seem to be quick on his feet and watching him get out of the police jam has been one of my favorite moments in the book!
Three main characters in this chapter. Only Renzo distinguishes himself. Renzo is unsophisticated and idealistic, way out of his element, but he does get himself liberated from his immediate bondage. The inn-keeper was an accomplice to the police (apparently reluctantly), but may have gotten himself in hot water by going to the station. The notary is a mess; trying to mislead our guy and failing miserably.
"'We are well aware that he brought into your tavern a quantity of stolen bread, stolen violently, through looting and rioting." A HA! I knew that loaf of bread was bad news!
I feel like we should note the strength of Manzoni's dialogue, its fluidity and its depth. The innkeeper's conversation w/ the notary, for example, perfectly captures his ambivalence b/w his deference in the name of his safety and his protest in the name of justice. He walks the line.
“The hero of our story” gets a lesson on the power of words spoken in vino veritas. He might be foolish and naive, but seems to be a quick learner as he wiggles his way out of this latest predicament.
alarm bells went off when the innkeeper calls Renzo "Stubborn mountain boy" (but only muttered out of earshot, not to his face). To me, it sounds insulting, though each of the words are tame, and are a literal accurate description. He is stubborn. He is from the mountain. And he is a boy. But the combination of the three, taken in this context, his general bearing, suggests he is being pegged as an outsider, an upstart, a hooligan. These aren't sympathetic qualities, yet I sense an affinity.
A sophisticated and ubiquitous police force, and "depositions," can feel a bit anachronistic. But actually, in my opinion, the best historical fiction doesn't blunder into blatant anachronisms, but has a feel that to a modern reader feels contemporary and timeless. I think this involves choice of words, a modern vernacular, with a function in part of drawing connections with contemporary realism, rather than introducing institutions and technologies from outside the time and place dramatized. This is one thing Hilary Mantel did so well. Archaic language is actually bad writing. This is one way a historical novel speaks to us in our time. Here, clearly the translator has adroitly refreshed this novel as one for our time.
I like the way Manzoni is able to capture the essence of the innkeeper. The quintessential good innkeeper/publican is able to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. He can be all things to all men. He can combine a ruthless or venal streak with common humanity and compassion.
Somehow reading all the comments I wonder if I'm reading the same chapter everyone else did? 🤨
Other than Renzo quickly learning from his mistakes, I felt the chapter played again and again on the theme of weak-minded people acting in their own self-interest, mostly out of fear of greater powers, and in resistance to whatever sympathetic human tendencies might arise when they're face to face with someone they see as a hapless innocent, our Renzo.
The paragraph on swindlers seemed to me to apply to them all (as well as to the contemporary world full of opportunist pseudo-politicians). And the description of the effort of such people to win others to their side when they see themselves losing seems to apply to each of these characters, small and larger -- but not to Renzo himself in his appeal for help, which seemed to me straightforward and (as always?) naively confident.
As for the spy being a spy for the police -- I don't see his presence as signifying a "sophisticated and ubiquitous police force," rather some ordinary network of spies, and possibly a spy who plays for all sides. I think this kind of spying was pretty common in Renaiisance Italy, but maybe someone else knows more about this than I do. Also, in terms of Renzo's fate, I wonder how much difference there is between his being a police spy and what I feared, a spy for Don R.?
"Stubborn mountain boy" was definitely dismissive (maybe to argue away his own near affection) and "redneck" even more so, but "redneck" bothered my ear for its specificity to the US.
Apologies if I seem to be ranting. 💙
Also, the pinching of the cheek -- didn't we encounter Napleon doing this too?
With Renzo (and perhaps with others), the author is very astute at pointing out that the very attributes that make the character likeable/heroic are the same things that lead to his downfall. For example, his temperate nature causes the alcohol to make him even drunker; his demand for fairness and just laws eventually causes him to give up his name to the spy.
However, sober Renzo does seem to be quick on his feet and watching him get out of the police jam has been one of my favorite moments in the book!
Three main characters in this chapter. Only Renzo distinguishes himself. Renzo is unsophisticated and idealistic, way out of his element, but he does get himself liberated from his immediate bondage. The inn-keeper was an accomplice to the police (apparently reluctantly), but may have gotten himself in hot water by going to the station. The notary is a mess; trying to mislead our guy and failing miserably.
wondering what the italian word was for "rednecks" on p 251 (oh & GF photo 😒)