1
āMichelangelo of tragedyā
Shakespeareās tortuous Italian routes
Maria Luisa De Rinaldis
Approaching Shakespeareās migration to Europe through the idea of the nation state can be anachronistic. Indeed a nation state did not exist in Italy until unification in 1861. In Shakespeareās time Italy was fragmented, a fact capitalized upon by early modern playwrights in their use of diverse city states as locations. When Bonaparte presented himself as a liberator from reigning powers in 1796, the country was still composed of various states: Milan, which was part of the Austrian Empire, the Republic of Genoa, the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia, the Republic of Venice, the Duchy of Modena, the Duchy of Parma, the Grand-Duchy of Tuscany, the Republic of Lucca, the Papal States and the Kingdom of Naples. This chapter aims to reconstruct the early stages of Shakespeareās migration to Italy through critical responses, performance and translations ā trajectories which rarely overlapped ā before he became firmly established and even hailed by the translator Michele Leoni as a āMichelangelo of tragedyā.
Early modern Anglo-Italian communications were limited. Observations on English theatrical performances written in 1618 by Orazio Busino, chaplain to the Venetian Embassy in London, and by Gregorio Leti in his Teatro Britannico (1683) reveal an interest in the sophistication of spectacles and in theatrical architecture, but no playwright was mentioned by name (Collison-Morley). In part this was because, with such a highly developed literary culture of their own, Italians were hardly receptive to migrant literatures, especially one from a predominantly Protestant nation. A major exception to this generalization was Venice, where a number of political tracts, including a proclamation by Elizabeth I and works by Robert Cecil and James I, were translated for the Venetian Ʃlites when there were hopes Venice could be won to the Protestant cause (De Rinaldis). Moreover, as a centre for trade, Venice was more open and receptive than the rest of Italy to foreign cultural influences.
Critical work
One of the earliest Italian engagements with Shakespeare was in the early eighteenth century when the Paduan Antonio Schinella (1677ā1749), better known as abbot Conti, wrote his work Il Cesare, which circulated in manuscript form before it was published in 1726.1 Conti, translator of Racine and Pope, had earlier visited England in order to meet Isaac Newton, and there had read John Sheffieldās neo-classical re-writings of Julius Caesar in two plays, Julius Caesar and Marcus Brutus. Inspired by these plays, he wrote Il Cesare (1726a), shortly before translating Voltaireās MĆ©rope; like Voltaire, he would dedicate another Roman play, Giunio Bruto (1743), to the founder of the Republic. In the text which prefaces Il Cesare, āRisposta al Sig. Iacopo Martelliā, Conti refers to Sheffieldās work as āSasperās Caesar cut in twoā and, although he does not acknowledge Shakespeare as a direct source, he discusses his value: āSasper ĆØ il Cornelio deglāInglesi, ma solo più irregolare del Cornelio, sebbene al pari di lui pregno di grandi idee, e di nobili sentimentiā (1726b: 54, āShakespeare is the English Corneille, only more irregular than Corneille, although similarly full of great ideas and noble feelingsā). He finds faults in Shakespeareās plot, nevertheless he acknowledges that tragedy had to āpleaseā, and that Shakespeareās plots, as in Spanish tragedies, were a rich combination of events that appealed to seventeenth-century readers. Contiās response neatly exemplifies the pattern of attraction and repulsion through which Shakespeare was approached in the eighteenth century. In his dramatic hierarchy, it was Addisonās Cato that he valued as āla prima tragedia regolare deglāInglesiā (55, āthe first regular English tragedyā). In the āRispostaā he defends his version against those who were critical of his aesthetic distance from tragic pathos, intimating that Shakespeare has his admirers in Italy who appreciate the emotional power of his texts. Nonetheless, Conti insists on the serious quality of his own material, that is, the story of the greatest Republic, and the death of the most celebrated man the Romans ever had. He wrote his own play according to neo-classical standards, limiting the passing of time to the report of Caesarās assassination and respecting the unity of place in locating action in the courtyard of Caesarās house. The extent to which Conti was directly influenced by Shakespeare has been the subject of critical debate, obviously complicated by the fact that he uses the same sources as Shakespeare. Contiās text echoes moments of Shakespeareās dramatic intensity. In Julius Caesar Caesar reports Calpurniaās premonition of his death: āShe dreamt tonight she saw my statue, / Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, / Did run pure bloodā (2.2.76ā8), a reference to the bleeding statue of Pompey which Plutarch does not put in the mouth of Calpurnia. In Contiās text, Caesarās wounds are ācentoā as in Shakespeareās image: āSquarciata ĆØ la tua toga, e da ben cento / Ferite sgorga in larga copia il sangueā (4.1, p. 158, āYour toga is ripped, and blood gushes in abundance from a hundred woundsā). In re-adapting his sources, Conti appears to have been in some contact with Shakespeare (Sestito).
The abbot was part of a circle of cosmopolitan intellectuals, in England he knew Newton, Sheffield and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, among other aristocrats and scientists; in France he was in contact with philosophers, mathematicians, with writers like Fontenelle (Conti 1726b; Toaldo; Dorris; Petrone Fresco), and Voltaire who mentions him in his correspondence. He also travelled to Germany and Holland. Notably, it was through Contiās writings that the Swiss critic Johann Jakob Bodmer developed his appreciation of Shakespeare (Orsini). Contiās comparison of Shakespeare and Corneille in his āRispostaā expresses the ideological framework in which his vision of Shakespeare took shape; it was French classicism as codified by Voltaire that dictated current literary parameters.
Paolo Rolliās (1687ā1765) comments on Shakespeare were published a few years after Contiās. In his āLife of John Miltonā, prefacing his Italian translation of the first six books of Paradise Lost (1729), and in his āOsservazioniā (remarks), published in the Veronese edition of the translation of Milton (1730), Rolli dismissed Voltaireās approach. While, in his Essay upon the Epick Poetry of all the European Nations (1727), Voltaire had admired the genius of Shakespeare he had emphasized his aesthetic āabsurditiesā, negative judgements which were reiterated in subsequent work. In āLife of John Miltonā, Rolli, instead, praised Shakespeare as a genius and an interpreter of national history, who elevated the English theatre to āinsuperable sublimityā (11). In his tragic histories, Rolli writes, āi fatti ed i caratteri deā Personaggi interlocutori sono cosƬ viva [sic] e poeticamente e con adattissimo stile espressi; che nulla piùā (āthe facts and the characters of the protagonists are so vividly and poetically expressed and in a most proper style; as cannot be betteredā). Shakespeare is presented as a model, even of style, for other nations, while inelegancies and passages judged un-Shakespearean are disregarded on the supposition that they were āaddedā by contemporary actors (12).
Rolliās highest accolade is to compare Shakespeare with Dante (12): ādi lui dico quel che asserisco del Dante; cioĆØ chāeglino due soli me fanno altamente meravigliare dāaver i primi tanto sublimamente poetato nella loro linguaā (āI can say of him what I say of Dante: they are the only two who astound me with the sublime poetry they were the first to produce in their languagesā). His defence of Shakespeare from Voltairean criticism led him to translate Hamletās āTo be or not to beā in order to illustrate how much Voltaire had deviated, in his own translation, from the style and sentiment of the original. In place of Voltaireās anti-clerical comments:
On nous menace, on dit que cette courte vie,
De tourments Ʃternels est aussi-tƓt suivie.
O mort! moment fatal! affreuse ƩternitƩ,
Tout cÅur Ć ton seul nom se glace, Ć©pouvantĆ©.
Eh qui pourroit sans toi supporter cette vie,
De nos PrĆŖtres menteurs b...