What I’m Reading

Di recente ho appena finito di leggere The Pathfinder di James Fenimore Cooper. Un’eternità fa, o forse quando frequentavo le scuole medie, ho letto The Deerslayer e The Last of the Mohicans. Cooper ha scritto cinque libri che raccontano la vita di Natty Bumppo (i tre citati più The Pioneers e The Prairie), che nei libri non viene quasi mai chiamato così, ma porta sempre un appellativo che descrive un aspetto del suo carattere. Viene chiamato in vari modi: Natty, Deerslayer, Hawkeye (sì, è da lì che MASH ha preso il nome) e Pathfinder. È interessante notare che Cooper non ha scritto questi libri, chiamati The Leatherstocking Tales, in ordine cronologico. Ha iniziato con l’ultimo libro e, col passare del tempo, ha deciso di colmare le lacune.

Allora, perché ho deciso di leggere di nuovo Cooper? Beh, prima di tutto, i libri mi erano piaciuti molto quando li avevo letti tanti anni fa, e mi chiedevo se mi sarebbero piaciuti ancora o se li avessi “superati”. Con mia sorpresa, il libro mi è piaciuto; tuttavia, il mio entusiasmo è stato smorzato dalla verbosità di Cooper. Ammiro la scrittura descrittiva, ma Cooper esagera. Persino Mark Twain, suo quasi contemporaneo, riteneva che la sua scrittura fosse troppo elaborata.

Detto questo, riconosco l’influenza che Cooper, Dickens, Austin, Eliot, Dumas e altri scrittori del^XIXsecolo hanno avuto sulla mia propensione alla descrizione. Poiché la descrizione di persone e luoghi può essere simbolica e creare atmosfera, è uno strumento prezioso nell’arsenale dello scrittore. Sebbene lo stile minimalista di un Hemingway sia efficace e abbia il suo fascino, mi ritrovo più attratto dallo stile ricco e poetico di un Mark Helprin. Se avete letto A Soldier of the Great War di Helprin, sapete cosa intendo. Il suo stile lirico trasporta il lettore nel mondo e nel tempo come se fosse testimone degli eventi che narra. Thomas Wolfe definiva gli scrittori poeti, e io credo in quella forma più alta di arte letteraria e aspiro a raggiungerla nella mia scrittura.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to list what I’m not reading. As usual, I have way too many books going at the same time. Practically one for every room and occasion in the house. Here’s the short list of five I currently have going. Two are novels and three are nonfiction.

Il Fatto Viene Dopo is an Italian who-done-it by Gaetano Savatteri, part of his Makkari series. It is quite different, I would say, from the television series on the Italian Rai 1 station. It is also available with subtitles on Amazon Prime video if you subscribe to the Mhz Channel. It is of especial interest to me because it is set in the Province of Trapani where my family came from. Aside from that, he develops an interesting cast of characters and does a good job of keeping you guessing about who the guilty party is.

Another Italian novel I’m reading is La Ciociara, by Alberto Moravia. It is set primarily in the Province of Abruzzo, which lies due east of Rome, during World War II, and it tells the heartrending story of a mother and daughter caught up in the horrific violence that took place in that part of Italy during the war. Thousands of Italian women were raped and their men murdered by Free French forces from their colonies in North Africa as they fought the Nazis. It’s a tough read. It also was made into a movie starring Sophia Loren in the 1960s.

Because I am working on what you might call a sequel to my historical novel, Res Publica: The Gift of Mars I’ve been reading Comedy and the Rise of Rome by Matthew Leigh. It is an interesting treatise on how the comedy of Plautus, Terence and others was used to comment on Roman ideals and attitudes of the times. I expect it will be very useful in the plot and character development in my latest endeavor to recreate Republican Rome.

Also, peripherally related to my second Roman historical novel, part of which takes place in Greece, I’m reading Thucydides’ The Peloponnesian War. While this war took place hundreds of years before the events and timeframe of my novel, Thucydides gives some great insight into how the Greeks waged war, and the power politics that roiled and embroiled Greece in a constant state of war for over twenty years. The battles on land and sea, the utter barbarity with which they treated prisoners, and the perfidious nature with which they broke truces, treaties, and alliances, all sworn with holy oaths before the gods and justified with brilliant oratory and demagoguery, make one despair that people and nations will ever remain true to their word. Which is one of the reasons Rome got dragged into wars there repeatedly after punishing Phillip of Macedon for siding with Hannibal against them.

The War of the Roses by Dan Jones, though not specifically tied to my medieval endeavor, is very instructive of that time period. The majority of it takes place, really, in the early years of the Renaissance, but the knightly ideals and the feudal economics still pertain. It is a fascinating history, and if I’ve derived one thing from it, it is gratefulness that we live in a Republic that has had a peaceful transference of power for 250 years. For 150 years the English fought over which family owned the rights to the throne of England, the Yorkist or Lancastrian Plantagenets, and they ended up with the Tudors. Reading The Peloponnesian War and The War of the Roses, solidify the concept that tyranny and the lust for power, whether it be monarchical, dictatorial, or oligarchical always results in the destruction of lives, livelihoods, property, and liberty. But it certainly makes for enthralling reading.