There are a variety of styles to navigate right out of the gate; shuffling old notes in the intro, an exquisite natural description, a lone character, and the attempted gang busting edicts. Im so glad we have you with us Michael. Looking forward to experiencing the little theater.
The word is close to something like: il lavoratore, but I've spent too much time already trying to do a search through the Jamesian texts it could be in...and no luck. And from what I'm reading, "il lavoratore" is the opposite of vagrant.
I think it is possible that the regulations did not want to target the "bravi" only, therefore they included the vagrants as another category of undesirables
The Italian word -- granted, this is from a 16th-century document -- is "vagabondi." It is a broad legal category, including the unemployed, subversives, and fugitives from justice. An English "vagabond" is simply a wanderer, while a vagrant is a wanderer "without lawful or visible means of support, and vagrancy can be considered a criminal offense.
I was hooked by the push and pull of the different styles in the attic ms and the authorial intrusion. It reminded me of Moby Dick. In both books, we know right away that we are reading an innovative and irreverent novel.
can take or leave the intro, but love the opening para of ch1, Como, unbroken mountain chains, and 'the bridge that joins the two sides at this point seems to make this transformation [water suddenly narrows to take the shape of a river] even more visible to the eye..."
the rhythm / repetition of 'Most Illustrious and Excellent" aristocratic titles gives off a meaningless that contrasts with the gritty hearty more human image of the bravi.
"That any person, whether of this City or foreign, whom two witnesses testify is deemed and commonly reputed to be a bravo, and bears such a title, even if he has committed no crime…and even if he does not confess to any crime, can nevertheless be sent to the galleys for a three-year sentence solely for having the reputation and title of bravo."
Inept law enforcement and no due process. Bad combination.
Loving the poetry, “The mountain on whose lower slopes you walk unfolds its precipices and peaks around and above you, high, clear and changing in form with every step you take.” (Reading the Penman translation; paperback edition.)
From the Transator's Introduction: "in identifying these styles, we can ultimately trace Manzoni’s own personal and intellectual history, and the way in which his interest in combining poetic invention with a rigorous study of history led to his mastery of the historical novel."
There is something about Manzoni's voice in the intro and in his commentary surrounding the persecution of the bravi ("Lord etc., Governor, etc.") that reminds me of Garcia Marquez. Playful. Irreverent. Compassionate. Strange comparison, I know. Am I crazy?
What a beginning, nudging me to remember wonderful walks in the Lake Como hills and the characters you can encounter there. And those ruffians who refuse to leave the region, despite the numerous edicts against them, hilarious, and typical of governments to this day.
“But in rejecting our author’s diction as unacceptable, what shall I replace it with? This is the crux of the matter.” (p. 5)
After reading Jhumpha Lahiri’s Preface and Michael Moore’s Translator’s Introduction (both wonderful & makes me so excited to continue reading), I can’t help but think of all the different layers of translation that led to our reading of The Betrothed now. It’s almost as if Manzoni was anticipating this happening.
At some point the narrator thought to "take the series of events from the manuscript and rewrite them." A page later, near the end of the intro, the narrator says, "I set aside my proposal..." Sorry for slow-wittedness, but is the idea to rewrite the manuscript the thing that's being set aside? Now it has become a more literal translation of that manuscript?
The proposal to which he refers is not the novel -- which he wrote in modern Italian rather than in the elaborate 17th-century prose that you see in the first paragraph -- but a second book, a study of the Italian language, on which he did indeed work for the rest of his life, but never finished.
There are a variety of styles to navigate right out of the gate; shuffling old notes in the intro, an exquisite natural description, a lone character, and the attempted gang busting edicts. Im so glad we have you with us Michael. Looking forward to experiencing the little theater.
Thank you! Reading with you guys is helping me to see the novel in a new light, and to appreciate Manzoni’s genius all the more.
"... that echo the furrowed slopes" must be a stroke of genious in translation.
The literal, nearly impossible translation is "... according to their [the mountains] protruding and contracting [caving-in?] "
How many Italian words are there for vagrant? I wonder if it’s the equivalent of snow for Eskimos.
I recall Henry James used a word other than “bravi” in Daisy Miller but exactly what the word was escapes me, knowing practically no Italian!
The word is close to something like: il lavoratore, but I've spent too much time already trying to do a search through the Jamesian texts it could be in...and no luck. And from what I'm reading, "il lavoratore" is the opposite of vagrant.
I think it is possible that the regulations did not want to target the "bravi" only, therefore they included the vagrants as another category of undesirables
The Italian word -- granted, this is from a 16th-century document -- is "vagabondi." It is a broad legal category, including the unemployed, subversives, and fugitives from justice. An English "vagabond" is simply a wanderer, while a vagrant is a wanderer "without lawful or visible means of support, and vagrancy can be considered a criminal offense.
The word "bravi" in Manzoni is taken from Spanish, not Italian, and can mean rough, ferocious, or wild. Not sure about the 16th century, however.
I was hooked by the push and pull of the different styles in the attic ms and the authorial intrusion. It reminded me of Moby Dick. In both books, we know right away that we are reading an innovative and irreverent novel.
can take or leave the intro, but love the opening para of ch1, Como, unbroken mountain chains, and 'the bridge that joins the two sides at this point seems to make this transformation [water suddenly narrows to take the shape of a river] even more visible to the eye..."
the rhythm / repetition of 'Most Illustrious and Excellent" aristocratic titles gives off a meaningless that contrasts with the gritty hearty more human image of the bravi.
"That any person, whether of this City or foreign, whom two witnesses testify is deemed and commonly reputed to be a bravo, and bears such a title, even if he has committed no crime…and even if he does not confess to any crime, can nevertheless be sent to the galleys for a three-year sentence solely for having the reputation and title of bravo."
Inept law enforcement and no due process. Bad combination.
Loving the poetry, “The mountain on whose lower slopes you walk unfolds its precipices and peaks around and above you, high, clear and changing in form with every step you take.” (Reading the Penman translation; paperback edition.)
From the Transator's Introduction: "in identifying these styles, we can ultimately trace Manzoni’s own personal and intellectual history, and the way in which his interest in combining poetic invention with a rigorous study of history led to his mastery of the historical novel."
The historical novel, often maligned, but when what are the greatest novels is considered, they are always prominent. https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/ref/books/fiction-25-years.html?emc=th
"In translating this novel, I have tried, at the most basic level, to re-create a work that is as pleasurable to read in English as it is in Italian."
What should be the object of any translation, even more than "accuracy," whatever that is.
There is something about Manzoni's voice in the intro and in his commentary surrounding the persecution of the bravi ("Lord etc., Governor, etc.") that reminds me of Garcia Marquez. Playful. Irreverent. Compassionate. Strange comparison, I know. Am I crazy?
Delightfully schizoid! He had me at “that one book at a time is quite enough, if not too much.” I am ready to dive in and be persuaded!
He actually did try to write that second book, a study of the Italian language, but never finished it.
You're not crazy: I'm sure Garcia Marquez read Manzoni, whose work is perhaps better known in Spanish then English.
What a beginning, nudging me to remember wonderful walks in the Lake Como hills and the characters you can encounter there. And those ruffians who refuse to leave the region, despite the numerous edicts against them, hilarious, and typical of governments to this day.
“But in rejecting our author’s diction as unacceptable, what shall I replace it with? This is the crux of the matter.” (p. 5)
After reading Jhumpha Lahiri’s Preface and Michael Moore’s Translator’s Introduction (both wonderful & makes me so excited to continue reading), I can’t help but think of all the different layers of translation that led to our reading of The Betrothed now. It’s almost as if Manzoni was anticipating this happening.
At some point the narrator thought to "take the series of events from the manuscript and rewrite them." A page later, near the end of the intro, the narrator says, "I set aside my proposal..." Sorry for slow-wittedness, but is the idea to rewrite the manuscript the thing that's being set aside? Now it has become a more literal translation of that manuscript?
The proposal to which he refers is not the novel -- which he wrote in modern Italian rather than in the elaborate 17th-century prose that you see in the first paragraph -- but a second book, a study of the Italian language, on which he did indeed work for the rest of his life, but never finished.