Litanic Verse IV (Literary and Cultural Theory) 9783631748053, 9783631761731, 9783631761748, 9783631761755, 3631748051

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Literar y and Cultural Theor y

Litanic verse is based on different syntactic and rhetorical devices, such as enumeration, parallelism, anaphora, and epiphora. Its Italian variants are not to be seen as a mere convention of versification, but as a multifactorial phenomenon, which involves semantic and performative aspects as well. The variants reveal their different faces within various periods, beginning with the Duecento. This book analyzes Italian poetry up until the first decades of the twentieth century, together with certain musical pieces that are closely related to the history of literature. The monograph is the fourth of five volumes devoted to the emergence and development of litanic verse in the literature of European regions.

Magdalena Maria Kubas

Litanic Verse IV

Magdalena Maria Kubas received her Ph.D. from the University for Foreigners of Siena, Italy. She specializes in spiritual poetry, the relations between poetry and music, and twentieth-century Italian literature. ISBN 978-3-631-74805-3

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Magdalena Maria Kubas · Litanic Verse IV: Italia

Italia

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13.09.18 17:45

Literar y and Cultural Theor y

Litanic verse is based on different syntactic and rhetorical devices, such as enumeration, parallelism, anaphora, and epiphora. Its Italian variants are not to be seen as a mere convention of versification, but as a multifactorial phenomenon, which involves semantic and performative aspects as well. The variants reveal their different faces within various periods, beginning with the Duecento. This book analyzes Italian poetry up until the first decades of the twentieth century, together with certain musical pieces that are closely related to the history of literature. The monograph is the fourth of five volumes devoted to the emergence and development of litanic verse in the literature of European regions.

Magdalena Maria Kubas

Litanic Verse IV

Magdalena Maria Kubas received her Ph.D. from the University for Foreigners of Siena, Italy. She specializes in spiritual poetry, the relations between poetry and music, and twentieth-century Italian literature.

Magdalena Maria Kubas · Litanic Verse IV: Italia

Italia

www.peterlang.com

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13.09.18 17:45

Litanic Verse IV

LITERARY AND CULTURAL THEORY General Editor: Wojciech H. Kalaga

Magdalena Maria Kubas

Litanic Verse IV Italia

Bibliographic Information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. This publication is financially supported by the grant from The National Science Centre of Poland (decision No. DEC-2012/07/E/HS2/00665).

Reviewed by Jadwiga Miszalska and Władysław Witalisz Assistant editor: David Schauffler (University of Silesia) Printed by CPI books GmbH, Leck. ISSN 1434-0313 ISBN 978-3-631-74805-3 (Print) E-ISBN 978-3-631-76173-1 (E-PDF) E-ISBN 978-3-631-76174-8 (EPUB) E-ISBN 978-3-631-76175-5 (MOBI) DOI 10.3726/b14389 © Peter Lang GmbH Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften Berlin 2018 All rights reserved. Peter Lang – Berlin · Bern · Bruxelles · New York · Oxford · Warszawa · Wien All parts of this publication are protected by copyright. Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without the permission of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution. This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming, and storage and processing in electronic retrieval systems. This publication has been peer reviewed. www.peterlang.com

In memory of my father Adam and my son Teodor, “love whose light no more on earth finds room”.

Contents Acknowledgments������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 13 Introduction������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 15 Litany in Italy from the Latin Middle Ages to the Present��������������� 19 Marian Litanies���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 21 The Saints�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 25 A “Litany” of Seamen������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 26

Part I:  Around the Lauda, Hymn and Spiritual Poetry 1 Confraternities of Praise��������������������������������������������������������������������������� 31 1.1 The Form of Lauda������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 33

2 Francis of Assisi’s Laudes creaturarum����������������������������������������������� 39 3 Litanic-Enumerative Segments in the Early Anonymous Lauda��������������������������������������������������������������������������� 45 3.1 Lauda-orazione������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 46 3.2 Laudario di Cortona���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 48 3.3 The Holy Spirit������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 51

4 Jacopone da Todi������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 55 4.1 An Authored Laudario����������������������������������������������������������������������������� 55 4.2 Amor-Iesù���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 58 4.3 Shorter Verses�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 61

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5 Laudario di Santa Croce di Urbino: RhythmicalMetrical Formulas����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 65 5.1 De Dulcedine Amoris Christi�������������������������������������������������������������������� 68 5.2 The Possibility of a Phrasal Versification in the Early Lauda������������� 73

6 The Condemned and the Saints in the Laudario di Santa Maria della Morte���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 77 6.1 The “Lauda with Litanies”������������������������������������������������������������������������ 82 6.2 Idio Soprano������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 84 6.3 The Marian Lauda������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 88 6.4 Conclusions������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 90

7 Text and Music in the Laudario giustinianeo���������������������������������� 93 7.1 Textual Litanic Characters����������������������������������������������������������������������� 95 7.2 Mystical Lauda������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 95 7.3 The Marian Lauda������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 97 7.4 The Holy Spirit and the Saints������������������������������������������������������������� 100 7.5 Some Musical Aspects�������������������������������������������������������������������������� 103 7.6 Music and Litany in the Laudas of Giustinian����������������������������������� 105 7.7 “Vergine bella”���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 107 7.8 Conclusions�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 108

8 Between the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries�������������������������� 111 9 Laudatory and Hymnic Poetry in the Heart of the Modern Era�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 119 9.1 “Sentiments grands, nobles, et humains” in Alessandro Manzoni�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 120 9.2 Giosuè Carducci’s Prayer to Satan������������������������������������������������������� 125 9.3 Oropa and “oropee:” The Poetry of Giovanni Camerana����������������� 129

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10 D’Annunzio’s Laudistic Experiment at the Turn of the Twentieth Century���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 135 10.1 Alcyone���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 139 10.2 Elettra������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 144 10.3 Maia�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 148 10.4 Canti della guerra latina����������������������������������������������������������������������� 150 10.5 Conclusions�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 153

Part II:  Around the Sonnet 11 The Sonnet���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 157 11.1 The Subdued Religiosity of the Sicilian School��������������������������������� 157

12 Poetry as an Authentic Expression of Love in the Stilnovo Authors���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 165 12.1 Dante’s La Vita Nuova��������������������������������������������������������������������������� 171

13 Petrarch’s Litanic Connectors�������������������������������������������������������������� 175 14 Boccaccio’s Sonnet������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 185 14.1 The Early Sonnet: Conclusions������������������������������������������������������������ 190

15 The Cinquecento����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 193 15.1 Gaspara Stampa’s Love Commendation��������������������������������������������� 195 15.2 Veronica Gambara’s Rime Leggiadre��������������������������������������������������� 204 15.3 Vittoria Colonna and Her Spiritual Petrarchism������������������������������ 206

16 Tommaso Campanella: Sonnet and Philosophy at the Turn of the Seventeenth Century������������������������������������������������������� 215 16.1 The Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries: A Conclusion��������������� 223

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17 The Nineteenth Century: A Portrait of an Epoch����������������������� 227 17.1 Self-Portraits of Sonneteers: Alfieri—Foscolo—Manzoni��������������� 227 17.2 After the Midcentury: Mameli and Carducci������������������������������������ 232

18 Attributes, Portraits and Landscapes: Towards the Twentieth Century������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 239 19 The Persistence of a Form���������������������������������������������������������������������� 245 19.1 Corazzini’s and Gozzano’s Sonnets����������������������������������������������������� 246 19.2 Giovanni Fiorini’s Chaplet of Sonnets������������������������������������������������ 255 19.3 Conclusions�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 261

Part III:  Around the Canzonetta and Ode 20 The Seventeenth Century����������������������������������������������������������������������� 265 20.1 Chiabrera and the Beginnings of the Canzonetta����������������������������� 266

21 The Poetry and Opera Metastasiana������������������������������������������������� 279 21.1 The Poetry���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 280 21.2 The Melodrama�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 283 21.3 Singing in the Eighteenth Century: Words and Music in the Da Capo Aria����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 284 21.4 Metastasio’s Profane Arietta����������������������������������������������������������������� 286 21.5 Betulia Liberata�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 293 21.6 The Azione Sacra����������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 294 21.7 Mozart’s La Betulia Liberata����������������������������������������������������������������� 301 21.8 Conclusions�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 303

22 Towards the Risorgimento�������������������������������������������������������������������� 305 22.1 Formal and Thematic Models at the Beginning of the Century����� 309 22.2 Poets of the Risorgimento�������������������������������������������������������������������� 314 10

23 Recalling the Ancient Glories: Giosuè Carducci’s Odi barbare�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 327 23.1 Invocative and Iterative Patterns��������������������������������������������������������� 331 23.2 Conclusions�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 339

Part IV:  Around the Twentieth-Century Experimentations 24 The Early Years������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 343 24.1 Aldo Palazzeschi’s Repetitive Modules����������������������������������������������� 344 24.2 Corrado Govoni’s Low-Register Litanies������������������������������������������� 351

25 Marinetti’s Litanic Layout��������������������������������������������������������������������� 361 26 The Profane and Sacrum of Giuseppe Ungaretti������������������������ 369 Bibliography�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 377 Index of Subjects����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 395 Index of Names��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 401

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Acknowledgments I would like to express my sincere thanks to Prof. Witold Sadowski, the leader of the research group “Litanic Verse in the Culture of the European Regions.” An excellent academic atmosphere has been created at the University of Warsaw during my collaboration on the project. My thanks go also to a highly co-operative administrative staff, who helped my tenure and supported my research. My work would have remained incomplete, if I had not been able to spend time in a great number of Italian libraries, which make available to scholars their precious collections. I am grateful to the staffs of university, national, municipal, diocesan, conservatory, and art-school libraries in Bologna, Milan, Rome, Florence, Siena, Modena, Pordenone, Udine, and Trieste. I am also grateful to friends from the University for Foreigners of Siena. I would like to express my gratitude to my mother Lucyna Kubas, together with Krystyna and Andrzej, my sister, and brother. Their presence and support are always important for me. Sincere thanks to my mother-in-law Savina Capuzzello, for having found for me old family books of prayer. I am deeply grateful to my wonderful husband Francesco Galofaro, for both words of encouragement to go ahead and the intellectual stimulus—he is the most important source of inspiration to me.

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Introduction The purpose of the present monograph is to present a study of the influence of litanies on poetry written in the Apennine Peninsula from the thirteenth to the twentieth century. The litany, as a form of discourse characterized by specific qualities expressed through certain devices related to metrical, rhetorical, and semantic aspects of texts, manifests a long-term contaminating potential when it comes into contact with several genres of Italian poetry. In the present monograph, we analyze a relevant part of a very rich lyric tradition—an abundant heritage that requires a selection of material to be discussed, which is related to lyric poetry, especially to forms which are generally short. Naturally, the meaning and the limits of the “short” poetic forms would require further definition, but this is not the purpose of our study. We have not included in the present monograph narrative poetry, even if certain epic poems, especially medieval ones, take up in an interesting way some qualities and techniques from the canonical litanies. We have selected poems composed in different epochs, so as to cover the entire period that starts with the poetry written in Italian vernaculars and ends in the 1930s. The next step was to choose the genres within which the litany exerted an influence in a particular way—this does not exclude wider studies on interactions between litanies and poetry—including, in this book, the lauda, the sonnet, and the canzonetta—ode. “Formal marks”—those discussed by Karl Viëtor1—related to litanic contaminations are created in the genres that receive different litanic elements. Now, among the forms which are here discussed the sonnet is the most successful in a general perspective, while both the lauda and canzonetta—ode present periods of arising, development, and stagnation. Against this background litanies left their traces. The purpose of our selection was also to convey the idea that certain genres together with the litanic traits they incorporate are current in the history of literature under certain circumstances. As will be clearly observable for the lauda, both the function and importance of this form can evolve or can become outworn in a literary system. Initially, the lauda accepts the highest number of litanic formal marks. This can be determined by a common field of interest, thanks to which topics and semantic elements permeate a different form with a certain facility. The second shared factor in this case is the musical-performative character of both the litany and 1 Karl Viëtor, “L’histoire des genres littéraires,” in Théorie des genres (Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1986), 9–35.

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the lauda. This particular component is absent in the sonnet,2 and only partially present in the canzonetta, for which the performance is relevant in the early stage and when it is used in the writing of religious arias. The collective character of litanic prayer and laudistic recitation is not a quality of the other genres that are here discussed. The aforementioned formal marks are first accepted within the contaminated genre. Secondly, they can become “infectious” and spread to other genres, or fall out of poetic use. The latter phenomenon applies, for example, to the metrical characteristics of the mystical lauda. The influence on this sub-genre is evident in the early centuries of Italian poetry, but when the innovative character of the lauda weakens, the litanic mark on versification is not transferred to other forms influenced by the lauda. While the metrical mark disappears, the rhetorical components associated with litanies do spread to other forms, such as the sonnet and, later, the canzonetta—ode. Analyzing the sonnet, we distinguish the elements that come directly from both litanies and liturgical prayers. The sonnet accepts in a stable way only rhetorical devices which can be associated with litanies. Praising invocation and antonomasia are the most important points of contact. These elements survive through the centuries; they are present in different thematic areas, as in modern times the sonnet widens its field of interests and linguistic register. The contaminating components, mostly of a rhetorical nature, may give rise to richer ornaments, which manifest only a remote link with original litanic figures. Then we also observe the impact of the anaphoric-enumerative techniques, even if this factor does not create uniform patterns of stresses as occurred to some extent in the lauda. The third part of our study is devoted to the canzonetta—ode, the “youngest” genre which enters aulic poetry. Here the situation is more complex, because of the initial character of the genre, which is interested in love praising, like the traditional sonnet. At the same time, both in religious and in secular types (love canzonetta and civil ode) we observe the influence of the spiritual lauda and litanic (together with other, non-litanic) prayers. A stratification of formal marks is here observable. In this perspective rhetorical devices, related to litany, are 2 The debate about whether the sonnet, at an early stage, could have been a musical genre has not been settled among Italian scholars. If there was musical performance, it seems sure that the early sonneteers did not write the melodies by themselves. The task of composing music might have been committed to others. A recent recapitulation with new hypotheses can be read in the chapter “Osservazioni sulla metrica de Siciliani e dei Siculo-toscani,” in ed. Pietro G. Beltrami, L’esperienza del verso. Scritti di metrica italiana (Bologna: il Mulino, 2015; ebook ed.).

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mostly associated with the secular canzonetta—ode, while semantic and lexical components tend to accompany the sacred topics. In the early canzonetta we observe an interest in the polyonymic quality of litanies, which in other genres and periods would hardly be found. This trait distinguishes the genre and demonstrates the autonomy of its litanic connections. In the love canzonetta, the semantics of praise is directly associated with a litanic origin. The link is established through either direct references, or a semantic memory of litany, lauda, and love sonnet. Once more, in the religious arietta, litany and canzonetta—ode find an area of common interest. We conclude the present monograph with a shorter chapter dedicated to poetic experimentations at the turn of the twentieth century. The period which is here examined extends for about three decades. On the one hand, we observe an increasing interest in rhetorical-litanic devices; on the other, the sacralizing character of these references increasingly belongs to the past. Instead, litanies become an object and a stimulus for original artistic innovations, which go beyond what is traditionally considered as poetry. Especially, in the field of visual poetry these works—which involve fresh litanic references—would strongly influence further poetic experimentation. The last question that is touched on in our study is the link between poetry and music. As litanies are a form which is recited or sung, under certain circumstances, we consider musical aspects of the lyric genres that are here discussed. The lauda and the canzonetta—which gives shape to eighteenth-century arias— are two forms which have only a poetic or both a poetic and a musical side. As our study concerns the poetry, we will provide only short analyses of the impact of the musical component on litanic characteristics, which we first distinguish in the poems. The music can either support or ignore litanic marks, which happens in the examples that we have selected to represent both lauda and canzonetta. In fact, musical repetition can very well emphasize certain rhetorical figures, for example, the anaphora. We are convinced—though this is not the object of our study—that music may express litanic characteristics even when the text lacks them entirely. We hope that the present work will encourage further studies on the link between litanies and other forms of discourse and arts.

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Litany in Italy from the Latin Middle Ages to the Present Litany presents several fields of reference in Italian language and culture. In its context, there is a medieval document from Venice in which celebrations with litanies are mentioned in a will.3 In a fourteenth-century conventual document from Lucca a “major litany,” recited for the feast of Mark, is recalled.4 We remark that spoken Italian does not treat the word “litany” favorably. Commonly the litany is deemed to be a long and monotonous listing of things.5 A dialect word, “santore” (from the Latin sanctorum), has a similar meaning.6 It is also defined as a long string of words.7 In the nineteenth-century dialect of Romagna the litany denotes a protracted reproach.8 Even if the present monograph does not discuss this linguistic use, the fact in some way draws our attention to certain characteristics of the genre. The study that underlies this book is interested in contacts and contaminations between litanies and various genres of Italian poetry. A short overview of litanic prayers which were in use in the Apennine Peninsula seems useful as a preliminary introduction. It can also be useful for other reasons. On the one hand, early litanic contamination seems to be related to the performative character of all the genres in close contact with the litany; on the other, the Apennine Peninsula is one of the places of origin of Marian litanies. The main character of litanic prayer in the Apennine Peninsula is its relation to the procession, as it is acknowledged for that part of the Middle Ages, in which Latin was the main language of intellectual exchange and religious life.9 3 See e.g. a document from 1321. Cf. Testi veneziani del Duecento e dei primi del Trecento, ed. Alfredo Stussi (Pisa: Nistri–Lischi, 1965), 178. 4 Regola dei frati di S. Jacopo d’Altopascio. Cf. “Tesoro della lingua Italiana delle Origini,” http://tlio.ovi.cnr.it/TLIO/. Accessed on December 11, 2017. 5 Gian Luigi Beccaria, Sicuterat. Il latino di chi non lo sa: Bibbia e liturgia nell’italiano e nei dialetti (Milan: Garzanti, 1999), 46: “litania, elencazione monotona, filastrocca che non finisce mai.” 6 Ibidem, 77. The word is used in the dialect of Lucca, in which santore means “una litania, una cosa che non finisce mai.” 7 Beccaria, Sicuterat, 77. 8 Ibid., 82. 9 “Per fatto che durante le processioni si pregava, il termine litania divenne anche sinonimo di processione.” Cf. Mario Righetti, Storia liturgica, I. Inotroduzione (Milan: Editrice Ancora, 1964), 260, footnote. Righetti recalls the model of rogations and the

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This factor applies also to pre-Christian celebrations, which are gradually transformed into litanies. The word “litania,” and older “letana” (a Tuscan variant), for a long time were synonyms of the procession. In the late Middle Ages, in Dante’s Inferno we find a mention of the slow progress of a group of condemned souls: e vidi gente per lo vallon tondo venir, tacendo e lagrimando, al passo che fanno le letane in questo mondo.10

In medieval Europe, in cultures of the Romania, processions with litanies and acclamations were often organized to pray in the advent of natural disasters and other emergencies.11 This is also the purpose of the Marian litany which follows, as Alessio Persic asserts.12 This main function, which was supplication and prayer for deliverance, lasted throughout the Middle Ages. The second trait that is worth noting is the place of litanies in the history of the liturgy. As Mario Righetti argues, litanies, as a collective, simple, and popular form of prayer, were part of the final part of early liturgies for catechumens, together with sequences of requests and deprecations.13 Also, the popular character of litanies is worth emphasizing. The formula of Kyrie eleison is associated with all litanic chant in the Middle Ages. It can be put this way: Nell’alto medio evo il canto del Kyrie restò sempre assai popolare, perché era la risposta preferita alla litania delle processioni stazionali e penitenziali.14

reforms of Gregory the Great in this field. See also Anna Benvenuti, “Draghi e confini. Rogazioni e litanie nelle consuetudini liturgiche,” in Annali Aretini XIII(2005): 53–4; Elżbieta Chrulska, “Litanic Verse in Latin,” in: Litanic Verse I. Origines, Iberia, Slavia et Europa Media, eds. Witold Sadowski, Magdalena Kowalska and Magdalena Maria Kubas (Warsaw: Peter Lang, 2016), 106–110. 10 Dante Alighieri, Inferno, XX, ll. 7–9. 11 Calamità ambientali nel tardo medio evo europeo: realtà, percezioni, reazioni, eds. Michael Matheus, Gabriella Piccini, Giuliano Pinto, Gian Maria Varanini (Florence: Firenze University Press, 2010), 81–2. According to Lapidge, earlier such association would produce e.g. the laudes regiae. Cf. Michael Lapidge, Anglo-saxon Litanies of the Saints (London: Henry Bradshaw Society, 1991), 49–50. 12 Alessio Persic, “Le litanie mariane ‘aquileiesi’ secondo le recensioni manoscritte friulane a confronto con la tradizione comune,” Theotokos 12(2004): 369. 13 Righetti, Storia liturgica, 260. 14 Ibidem, 213–4. The formula of Kyrie eleison was probably diffused and then adopted in Rome during the fifth century. Pope Gelasius chose it for his Deprecatio litanica inserted into the Mass. Pope Gregory the Great added Christe Eleison.

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Benedict of Nursia defines these invocations as litanic supplications.15 Recalling this and similar facts both Righetti and Canziani address what we consider shorter, pre-litanic forms, which would build up, later, more complex litanies. We agree with Armando Cuva, who argues that the term “litany” in the history of liturgy is used in a very general way.16 In several important studies published during the second half of the twentieth century two medieval litanies were distinguished, the Litany of the Saints, which was known in Canterbury in the eighth century, and Marian litanies, or the Litanies of Venice and Aquileia (associated with Italy) and the Litany of Loreto, with attestations in Italy and France, both starting from the twelfth century.17 To the traits that have been already mentioned, like the performative and collective character of popular prayer, we have to add the extraordinary dissemination of this form in all its shapes and stages of development. Acclamatory formulas, which are part of litanies, are one of the reasons for this success. Because in the early confraternal processions, acclamations and responsorial prayers were in use, it is possible to associate these techniques, which are shared by litanies and laudas with the earliest stage of development of the lauda. From the lauda, and also independently, litanic elements could permeate other genres of poetry: this is the object of study which precedes the present monograph. The relevant fact is the presence of the aforementioned links at an ancient stage during which the early literary tradition of Italy was being formed.

Marian Litanies A heterogeneous factor, which does not concern the Litanies of the Saints, made Marian litanies, at least in their Apennine version, poetically rich and important for the influence of this genre on literature. The Latin translation of the Akathist Hymn, which was made before 810 by Christopher I Damiata, a bishop

15 Luigi M. Canziani, Preghiere litaniche (Milan: Massimo, 1959), IX. According to Canziani, Benedict gave this definition in his Regula. Following Canziani a short, threefold Kyrie eleison is a form of litany typical of early Western liturgies. In this monograph the Kyrie is a part of litanies, together with other elements such as lists of names, praising enumerations, and supplications. 16 Armando Cuva, “Strutture litaniche negli attuali libri liturgici del rito romano,” Salesianum 68, 2(2006), 336. 17 See e.g. Michael Lapidge, Anglo-saxon Litanies of the Saints; Persic: 367–88. An important study by Gilles Gerard Meersseman, Der Hymnos akathistos im Abendland, vol. II (Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1958–1960) follows the evolution of Marian litanies.

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of Olivolo,18 was an impulse for the rich development of Marian semantics in that area. As Alessio Persic argues, the same cleric included the hymn in the liturgies of the churches of the Venice Lagoon and the Ecclesiae Aquileiensis. One thousand years later, in 1820, in Saint Mark’s Basilica and in town processions, the faithful still recited a particular version of the Marian litany, directly related to the aforementioned akathist.19 What are the differences between the most well known Litany of Loreto and the Litanies of Venice (Aquileia)?20 In the second ones, the invocation “Sancta Maria” precedes each phrase describing the Holy Virgin. Then, the Litanies of Venice present longer sequences of Marian attributes, which provide a lyric touch going beyond the Marian devotion based only on the worship of the Mother of God (Theotokos, or Deipara), which had developed during the Middle Ages. Both traditionally known and less common expressions compare the Virgin Mary to flowers, stars, light, the moon, an empress and queen, a ladder and door to heaven, etc. We shall cite a few invocations from two Latin versions of the Litany of Venice.21 In the earlier versions, we have phrases such as “Sancta Maria, virgo dulcissima,” “fons dulcedinis,” “consilium caelestis arcani,” “stella caeli clarissima,” “preclarior luna,” “caelestis margarita,” or “oliva ubera.”22 The second text, from the first half of the fourteenth century, contains invocations such as “Sancta Maria, pulcritudo angelorum et dyadema sanctorum,” “porta paradisi,” and “ianua filii Dei.” A short sequence follows invocations without the formula: “Tu gloria Ierusalem” and “Tu exltacio tocius mundi.”23 In this latter version a further prayer, which recalls the ektenial part of the Litany of the Saints, is included as well.24 According to Persic, from this stock the modern litany of the Servants of Mary is drawn. Unlike the Litany 18 Witold Sadowski, Litania i poezja (Warsaw: Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Warszaw­ skiego, 2011), 63. 19 Persic: 367–8. 20 In the Italian tradition of studies these two cities are recalled in the title. Meersseman links to these litanies the name of the city of Venice. 21 The first, as Persic declares, is included in the list of litanies of Gilles Gerard Meersseman’s Der Hymnos akathistos im Abendland. The second is a later version, recited “in case of necessity,” ibidem: 369. 22 Ibidem: 370, lines 18, 24, 35, 43, 44, 57, 83. 23 Ibidem, 375–6, lines 26, 34, 35, 43, 45. The invocations which are listed are not contained in the versions published by Meersseman, as Persic declares. 24 “Per te, beatissima Dei genetrix, porte paradisi nobis aperte sunt / Per te pas inter homines et angelos facta est / Per te mundus restauratus est / Per te, virgo, salvator noster natus est / Per te omnia bona facta sunt in celo et in terra sine fine.” Ibidem, 376, lines 38–42.

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of Loreto, it preserves the formula “Saint Mary” and rich Marian descriptions of light, flowers, and precious stones. The Litanies of Venice must have spread beyond the Lagoon, perhaps together with the translation of the Akathist Hymn, as in the early, vernacular poetry of the Apennine Peninsula, references to the kinds of ornaments typical of these prayers, or in some cases even possible traces of contact, perhaps indirect, can be found.25 A second interesting version of Marian litanies was registered in the late nineteenth century. It is a fourteenth-century Tuscan codex containing a vernacular Marian litany,26 which derives from the aforementioned tradition. Following the remark of Giovanni Giannini, the text is placed among other, Latin prayers. We note that the Latin, present within the litany, accompanies the prevailing Tuscan. While the invocations to the Virgin are in the vernacular, the deprecatory prayer is in Latin. The complex origin of this litany is observable in a sequence of calls to saintly choruses, which follows the Marian invocations and precedes the deprecation: Sancti chori delli spiriti celestiali or. Sancto choro de’ patriarchi intercedite pro nobis Int. Sancto choro de’ profeti Int. Sancto choro de’ martiri Int. Sancto choro degl’ innocenti Int. […] Sancto choro dell’ anime Int. Sancto choro de vivi, quelli che sono salvi Intercedite pro nobis27

Linguistic use is peculiar here too. The opening and final prayers are in Latin, a Latin Angelic salutation is inserted among the invocations, and the abbreviations of the formulas suggest Latin “miserere nobis” (but in one invocation it is recited in the vernacular too), “ora pro nobis,” “intercedite pro nobis,” and “libera nos domine” recited among the calls. This is an example of a litany which is a linguistic and structural mix. As far as the organization of the text is concerned, the Tuscan litany might be put close to the fourteenth-century version published by 25 As I explained in my paper devoted to early Marian lauda in the Peninsula, it seems impossible to prove direct intertextual relations between the mentioned twelfth- and thirteenth-century texts, but an inter-discursive relation is a reasonably acceptable hypothesis. Cf. my “Forme e legami litanici in alcune laude mariane del Duecento” in Forme letterarie del Medioevo romanzo: testo, interpretazione e storia, eds. Antonio Pioletti and Stefano Rapisarda (Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino, 2016), 255–70. 26 Giovanni Giannini, Litanie volgari del secolo 14. (Lucca: Giusti, 1894). 27 Ibidem, 8.

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Persic.28 In fact, in both Tuscan and Venetian litanies, there are both the anaphoric formula “Sancta Maria,” and invocations in the form of longer prayers to the Virgin. The problem is that both the deprecation and prayer-like inserts are not the same. Nevertheless, the link with the Venetian branch is unquestionable. As Persic notes, the distinguishing character of the versions he publishes is the contemporary presence of invocations to the mother of both God and Christ. This connotes dogmas about the theotokos, related to both Ephesian and Antiochian spirituality.29 These combinations emerge at the beginning of the Tuscan litany, after the Kyrie eleison and invocations to the Father, Son, Spirit, and Holy Trinity: Sancta maria ora pro nobis Sancta maria madre sanctissima di cristo abbi misericordia di me Sancta maria madre genitrice di dio or.

A link with earlier litanies, which derive from the translation of the Akathist Hymn, is expressed through invocations such as “perpetua vergine,” and “madre disponsata et non maritata,” “del re eterno figliuola,” “scala del cielo,” “imperatrice nostra,” “fontana di dolceçça,” “genitrice del lume eterno,”30 “stella chiara del cielo,” “più chiara della luna.”31 These antonomasias do not appear in the Litany of Loreto, as it is published in Meersseman’s census of medieval litanies.32 Finally we would like to draw attention to the last important fact: in Marian litanies present in the Apennine Peninsula, the direct call to Holy Mary accompanies attributes and periphrases which concern the Mother of God. As in the canonical litanies the name of Mary is hidden,33 and we believe that this presence replaces the chairetic salutation of the Akathist Hymn. Nevertheless, from the point of view of rhetorical figures typical of the litany, it connotes a superabundance of means which are used in the prayers that are here discussed. At the same time (to make a marginal observation) this attitude often reemerges in later litanies.34 28 But Persic stresses the probable complex origin of his text. 29 Persic: 379. 30 In the Venetian litanies “generans aeternum lumen.” 31 Ibidem, lines 12, 13, 15. 32 Meersseman, Der Hymnos II, 222–5. The Litany of Loreto is here edited based on a Paris codex from the end of the twelfth century. 33 The antonomasias, attributes and periphrases replace a venerated name. These elements also indirectly imply the name of God. Cf. Witold Sadowski, Litania i poezja (Warsaw: Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2011), 55. 34 E.g. the Litanies of the Sacred Heart of Jesus as composed in France in the seventeenth century. Cf. Domenico Svampa, Le litanie del Sacro Cuore di Gesù. Studio storico e teologico e le considerazioni divote (Milan: Romolo Ghirlanda, 1913).

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Rich semantics which are developed in Marian litanies and devotion—we emphasize the autochthonous character of their role, which implies for example wide dissemination, and geographical linguistic availability—seem to have been an important factor in mutual influence between the genres. The Venetian branch, of all the litanic tradition, had a great influence on the early Marian lauda. Under this influence, starting from the thirteenth century, we find very rich descriptions of the Virgin, which are expressed through attributes and antonomasias. These can be a starting point to develop solemn periphrases, as we illustrate in the first part of the present book. Italian and Latin Marian sources are important for the evolution of ways of praising the woman, or the beloved, in all European poetry. The relevance of such topics in the evolution of Italian lyric genres is recognized.35

The Saints Opinion on the great blossoming of Tuscan culture from the fourteenth century is shared by all scholars. Up to this point we have analyzed Marian litanies which are in relation with the tradition of the Akathist Hymn. As evidence of both the importance and diffusion of other litanies, we will see a version of the Litany of the Saints preserved in a codex belonging to the Curia of Florence. Gilberto Aranci edited a small, fourteenth-century laudario of a confraternity36 which has not yet been identified.37 It preserves a version of the Litany of the Saints which is linguistically Latin

35 The model of the Litany of the Saints is also present, but in the general framework of litanic influence it is less important. Marian litanies are the main point of reference for the litanic elements in the Italian poetry of every century. 36 Following Bettarini it was collected in the mid-fourteenth century. Cf. Rosanna Bettarini, “Notizia di un laudario,” Studi di filologia italiana 28(1970), 55–66. 37 Gilberto Aranci, Il laudario fiorentino del Trecento (Montespertoli: Aleph, 2002). Other codices coming from other cultural areas include different saints associated with towns or religious orders. As an example we recall here a manuscript acquired by Francis of Assisi (it was expanded by the friars in later decades) composed in Rome and used by Franciscans during the thirteenth century. This document contains two versions of the Litany of the Saints. In the earlier version, saints whose reliquaries are lodged in the Sancta sanctorum papal chapel and saints from Rome are invoked. In the later version certain names have been expunged, while those of Francis, Anthony, and Elisabeth the Hungarian were added. Messa describes a continuous process of updating of the Litany of the Saints. Cf. Pietro Messa, “Un testimone dell’evoluzione liturgica,” in Revirescunt chartae codices documenta textus, vol. I, eds. Alvaro Cacciotti and Pacifico Stella (Rome: Edizioni Antonianum, 2002), 5–128.

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and culturally Tuscan. It belongs to a period in which litanic prayers were popular, widely diffused, and often originally interpreted. At the end of the sixteenth century, these prayers were standardized by Pope Sixtus V, and at the beginning of the seventeenth century allowed by the Catholic Holy Office. A canon was established at that time by the Roman Catholic Church,38 while the text that is here discussed is evidence of a previous stage. On the last two pages of the aforementioned codex edited by Aranci, we find a version of the Litany of the Saints. Its special character is related to the presence of local saints and to the structure. The Florentine version does not contain the deprecatory part, which is usually used in the liturgical books. It opens with the following formula: “Kyrie leyson. / Christe leyson. / Christe audi nos. / Christe exaudi nos.”39 The usual supplication to the Three Persons and to the Trinity and a list of saints follow. The sequence of enumerated names corresponds to the known order of the litany, while Miniato and Zanobi are extra, local names. The text ends shortly with the threefold Kyrie. The presence of litanies in a laudario shows close contact between litanies and the lauda, a relation which is part of the confraternal ritual and culture, which makes simple—almost unavoidable—the mutual interaction of the genres.

A “Litany” of Seamen In the Italian peninsula not only did litanic discourse influence genres of poetry but it also resulted in original, popular litanies composed to be recited on special occasions. As an example, we quote a geographical “litany” of seamen written in a Tuscan vernacular in the second half of the fifteenth century. The text was published by Antonio Ive in 1914.40 The prayer has an introduction, in which the context of recitation is explained: it is to be said when the ship is at sea and the sailors have not seen land for several days.41 Our “litany” is composed of 38 It forbade a number of litanies. It was also successively expanded. Some older and several modern litanies entered the canon starting from the nineteenth century (e.g. the Litanies of the Name of Jesus, which are attributed to Bernardine of Siena, and the Litanies of Saint Joseph, approved in 1909). Cf. Canziani, Preghiere, XVIII–XIX. 39 Ibidem, 193. 40 Antonio Ive, “Una litania geografica italiana del Medio Evo,” Bollettino della reale socie­ tà geografica XII (1914): 1315–39. Previously a part of it had been edited in a collection of letters. Cf. Alessandra Macinghi negli Strozzi, Lettere di una gentildonna fiorentina del secolo 15. ai figliuoli esuli, ed. Cesare Guasti (Florence: Sansoni, 1877). 41 “si dice in galea o naue o altra fusta, quando fussino stati alcuno giorno sanza uedere terra.” In this introduction the prayer is defined as “santa parole,” “holy words.” Ive, “Una litania geografica italiana del Medio Evo:” 10.

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167  invocations. It opens with a threefold formula, “Die’ n’aì e ’l santo sepolcro.” This line comprises the anaphoric formula, which is always repeated in the remaining part, to which a list of names of saints who are patrons of ports is attached. Initially we have a kind of structural calque of the Litany of the Saints, in which the Virgin Mary, three archangels, apostles, evangelists, some martyrs, doctors, confessors, preachers, and hermits are listed. The order is not the same and all the categories are explicitly defined through proper words (“l’angiol,” “l’apos­tol,” “’l uangelista,” “’l martir,” “’l confessor,” “’l dottor,” “’l baron,” “’l predicator,” “’l corridor”). The remaining 133 saints are invoked together with their places of origin or death, which correspond to harbor localities in the Mediterranean and other seas. Here a short passage:42 Die’ n’ai e santo sidro di scio; Die’ n’ai e santa foca di pera; Die’ n’ai e santa soffia di costantinopoli; Die’ n’ai e san francesco di caffa; Die’ n’ai e san dimitri di salomecchi; Die’ n’ai e l’angiel del cauo; Die’ n’ai e san francesco di corom; Die’ n’ai e san leon di modom; Die’ n’ai e santa maria delle scanfarie

In the quoted excerpt we find references to an island close to Lemnos, the group of Strofades, the cities of Sinop, Feodosia, Thessaloniki, Cape Maleas, Corone, Methoni, and Constantinople.43 A geography of a universe—related to the journeys of Tuscan ships during the Middle Ages—is designated in this prayer. Searching for litanic qualities, we find polyonymic and chairetismic elements, and even the supplication. From the rhetorical point of view each line opens with an original formula. Metrically it bounds the lines on the left, while the names of the ports are listed on the right side. Nevertheless, this text should be considered as a free interpretation of a litanic scheme, as any internal order of hierarchy is lacking in this vision of the world. Moreover, God himself is called in the opening of each new line, and in fact the anaphora present in the quoted section means “God help us and saint…” In this formula, a rule which makes of litanies a supplication through an intercessor or intercessors is infringed.44 Now, in the 42 Ibidem: 14–5. 43 The modern references found by Ive. 44 For the rules of the genres, cf. Francesco Galofaro, Magdalena Maria Kubas, “Dei Genitrix: A Generative Grammar for Traditional Litanies,” OASIcs, 53(2016). Doi: 10.4230/OASIcs.CMN.2016.12.

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Litany of the Saints, the ektenial part addresses not God, but the Lord, including Christ, as the following supplications recall the events of his earthly life.45 As Witold Sadowski writes, in a litany the names of saints are worthy of worship not because of the special virtues of those who were martyrs, but because they stand in for the name of God.46 The litanies, as one could infer, avoid directly naming God. Secondly, after the initial list of saints taken from the traditional litanies, in the prayer cited above there is no order of persons who are invoked. This factor is not irrelevant, as in litanies, such an order expresses a hierarchy and a worldview. The prayer of the seamen is based on the structure of one of the canonical litanies, but when the original part of it begins the rules of the genre are followed only partially. An interesting elaboration of the polyonymic quality of litanies, which nowadays allows us to reconstruct a map of journeys and patrons of ports, is the most important element. More than in any other case, we find here a popular extra-liturgical prayer, which is direct evidence of the spread of litany as a form of discourse. Finally, the Tuscan “litany” emerges through short quotation in a twentiethcentury collection of praising poems written by Gabriele d’Annunzio. The book of poetic laudi entitled Merope was published in 1912, and dedicated to the war then being waged by the Italian army in Africa. Our “litany” of sailors is here exploited together with other liturgical and extra-liturgical textual strategies in order to build up a semantics of the sacrum around the topic of war. We can see how in four centuries the function and the meaning of litanic prayers, at least those that influenced lyric genres, had changed.

45 The text reads: “Per mystérium sanctae incarnatiónis tuae, líbera nos, Dómine / […] / Per crucem et passiónem tuam, libera.” Cf. Messale romano. Testo latino completo e traduzione italiana di S. Bertola e G. Destefani, commento di D.G. Lefebvre O.S.B. (Turin: L.I.C.E, R. Berruti e C., 1936), 43. 46 Witold Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 42, 44.

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Part I:  Around the Lauda, Hymn and Spiritual Poetry

1 Confraternities of Praise In the second half of the thirteenth century, a renewal of spiritual life took place in the Apennine Peninsula, at that time a politically fragmented and linguistically rich region. We could point to some of the reasons for this situation—the flourishing of new forms of government, as the free communes of the Northern Italy were, on the one hand, and the growing of popular religious movements on the other. The latter aspect is relevant in the context of the divisions inside the Roman Church, which opened as the thirteenth century turned into the fourteenth. Coming back to the epoch under consideration, in the early age of rivalry between Papacy and Empire, feudalism and free cities, which made a profit on trade and handicraft and, meanwhile, were developing a modern banking system, an intense amount of preaching gave rise to both heretical movements and new Christian communities. In the Italian region, inside the Church, the two most important sources of this renewal were the work and then the cult of the Calabrian abbot Joachim of Fiore (1130–1202) and the Umbrian friar Francis of Assisi (1182–1226).1 In the mid-thirteenth century, medieval Europe welcomed the birth of the processional movement of flagellanti (“flagellants”) which had developed in Perugia (1259–1260), the land of Raniero Fasani, who was the initiator of this devotional and penitential association. We mean the first confraternity, called Disciplinati di Gesù Cristo,2 but the phenomenon spread in the course of several decades.3 Subsequently some of those communities were transformed 1 A great classic, written by Gebhart at the end of the nineteenth century, analyzes the roots of Italian mysticism. Cf. Emile Gebhart, L’Italia mistica. Storia del rinascimento religioso nel Medioevo (Bari: Laterza, 1983). 2 Salimbene of Parma, the most important chronicler of that time, described the processions: “laudes divinas ad honorem Dei et beatae Mariae Virginis”. Cf. Gianfranco Contini, Poeti del Duecento. Laude, poesia didattica dell’Italia centrale, poesia «realistica» toscana (Milan: Ricciardi–Mondadori, 1995a), 4. 3 “Da Perugia cortei di flagellanti [of Fasani’s movement] si spandono […] e dall’Italia in Provenza, in Francia, in Germania, fino in Polonia. […] Nelle continue processioni, svolgentisi non solo di giorno, ma anche di notte […] il canto a sollievo dalle fatiche della via e del dolore delle battiture: «cantio poenitentium lugubris» […]. Erano litanie modulate, canti rozzi, improvvisati, del genere di quello antichissimo appartenente a quell’ordine dei Servi di Maria o Serviti, che nacque nel 1233 dalla trasformazione della confraternita dei «Laudesi della B. Vergine Maria», canto che incomincia così: “Rajna potentissima […].”. Cf. Siro A. Chimenz, “La poesia religiosa umbra del Duecento,” in L’Umbria nella storia, nella letteratura, nell’arte (Bologna: Zanichelli, 1954), 181–2.

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into religious orders. The emergence of these confraternities, together with the movement of Fasani, was associated with the prophecy of Joachim of Fiore. According to his prediction in 1260, the era of the Holy Spirit and Eternal Gospel was to have begun—this would have caused the existing Church institutions to fall down. The penitential confraternities were associations of lay people. Some of their members also joined one of the religious orders, for example, the Franciscans. In the first half of the thirteenth century, the so-called compagnie dei laudesi (“confraternities of praise”) emerged too—their goal was first collective prayer. Each of these associations had a statute, in which the patron saint was indicated and the recommended receivers of praise were added to the canonical set of prayer included in the Latin Liturgy.4 Finally, during the following centuries religious associations of public use developed, such as, for example, the hospital brotherhood of Santa Maria della Scala in Siena and the prison association of Confraternita di Santa Maria della Morte in Bologna. Some confraternities had a long life—the phenomenon was in some cases a great success up to the eighteenth century—while others arose and disappeared during the Middle Ages. The practice of collective prayer was obligatory for all members of the confraternities. As the meetings were held several times a week, every association was affiliated with a church, in which took place the common praising through laudas, litanies, and other texts recommended by the Church together with the prayers in the vernacular languages from the laudario. Laudario is a collection of hymns of praise (or laudas) sung by the laudantes. Materially we are speaking about a book of prayers collected for commission. Each confraternity owned a codex, usually a parchment one, including a compilation of existing texts, often by unknown authors, tailored by the scribe to the requirements of the ordering entity. The sequence of texts was not highly original. The same laudatory poems, or rather their variants, can be found in different manuscripts—the variations concern, for example, the patron saint. Although this might seem a limited interpretation of a wide and rich phenomenon, some critics over the last century hypothesized that the lauda would have been almost a collective literary product5—the preparation of codices, in their poetical and musical aspect, is the work of unknown copyists, who could have been 4 Liturgy of the Hours, Psalms, Credo, Pater Noster, and Ave Maria—at that time the latter had been recently allowed in the personal prayer. Cf. Josef A. Jungmann, Breve storia della preghiera cristiana (Brescia: Editrice Queriniana, 1991). 5 Giovanni Fabris, Il più antico laudario veneto con la bibliografia delle laude (Vicenza: Prem. Tipografia S. Giuseppe, 1907), 5.

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both poets and scribes. What we know for sure is that different persons prepared the textual and the musical sections. The codices had illuminations and decorations, which depended on the financial status of the customer. In order to assure worthy performances of their own repertoire of prayers, the congregations hired cantors or instructors of singing.

1.1  The Form of Lauda Gianfranco Contini derives the genre of lauda from the responsorial technique and the ejaculatory prayer.6 The Friars Minor had a habit of adding the invocation alleluiah at the end of the Divine Office, in the morning and evening. The second relevant assumption on the origins of lauda is that of the extra-liturgical evolution of the musical form of tropus, which is a Gregorian chant. This claim allows us to include Laudes creaturarum by Francis of Assisi in early forms of the verbal-musical form of lauda.7 In the thirteenth century, the lauda was one of the most important literary genres written in vernacular languages of the inhabitants of the Apennine Peninsula in the several medieval latium vulgare.8 As some scholars observe, from a sociological point of view the success of the lauda could be associated with the needs of the society of that time.9 It should be recognized that the lauda provides incisive evidence of the renewal of Christian religiosity during that epoch. The phenomenon can be considered part of the dynamics of cultural decline, in which new paradigms emerge, and consequently new models and specific literary products appear. According to Maria Corti: […] di sicuro resta il fatto che le trasgressioni nei riguardi del modello culturale generale si producono all’interno stesso della cultura che ha generato il modello[…].10

6 This fact could be related to the sources of the ektenial gene of litany. Cf. Witold Sadowski, Litania i poezja. Na materiale literatury polskiej od XI do XXI wieku (Warsaw: Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2011), 29. 7 The affinity of the tropus and lauda forms was studied by Silvio Avalle d’Arco. Cf. Silvio Avalle d’Arco, Elisabetta Eschini, Le origini della versificazione moderna (Turin: Giappichelli, 1979). 8 In the thirteenth century Latin was the language of the scripture, but the majority of the languages of the Peninsula were spoken as native languages. As we remember, the first study of these vernacular languages is in Dante’s Latin treatise De vulgari eloquentia. 9 Fabris, Il più antico laudario veneto, 5. 10 Maria Corti, “Modelli e antimodelli della cultura medievale,” Strumenti critici XXXV(1978): 16.

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Enlarging Corti’s line of reasoning: the form of lauda, involving some vernacular languages, would grow as an anti-model that contrasted both the Latin culture of the Liturgy and the canon of prayer. The popularization of this genre had a relevant impact on the semantics and rhetoric of the private and extra-liturgical prayer during the Middle Ages. In this analysis, we use the term “lauda” to refer to a lyrical hymn of praise written and performed in one of the vernacular languages of the Apennine Peninsula. Over the centuries it bore different rhyme and stanzaic patterns. The lauda, as a genre of religious poetry, first appeared in Latin. During the epoch of the Origins, it created a strict relation with the evolution of the Italian literary language. After an early, oral phase, often called “archaic,” the lauda passed through a stage of codification. We are convinced that in the latter period the genre was liable to further formal development. The object of our analysis will be the lyrical lauda,11 since it manifests the richest connection with the litany, and the lyrical lauda furthermore develops its own type of litanic verse. We could also argue that when the lauda accepts narrative or dialogical components, the litanic qualities are less evident or even absent, but an analysis of this process is not the aim of the present chapter.12 The oldest laudas present a mono-rhyme pattern as the basis of their composition.13 Subsequently, in the anonymous laudarios, the lauda assumes the formal aspects of the secular ballad, a genre involving poetry, music, and dance (cazone a ballo14). It is composed of a refrain and four-lined stanzas with the rhyme or 11 The lauda assumed lyrical, narrative or dramatic features. 12 Chimenz asserts that at an early stage the lyrical lauda was a “soul’s howl,” a “cry of contrite sinner”, and a “meditation on death.” Narrative lauda usually tell, in vernacular languages, the most important moments of the Gospels or lives of saints, etc. During the thirteenth century in the region of Umbria the most innovative type of lauda was developed, which contributed to the origin of a popular, medieval genre called rappresentazione sacra (or dramma sacro). Cf. Chimenz, La poesia religiosa umbra del Duecento, 184. 13 In that epoch different rhetoric figures of repetition are present, such as antiphonies or fragments of litanies. Cf. Aurelio Roncaglia, “Nella preistoria della lauda: ballata e strofa zagialesca,” in Il Movimento dei Disciplinati nel Settimo Centenario dal suo inizio (Perugia 1260). Atti del Convegno Internazionale: Perugia, 25–28 settembre 1960 (Spoleto: Panetto e Petrelli, 1962), 466. 14 Cf. Contini, Poeti del Duecento. Laude, poesia didattica dell’Italia Centrale, poesia «rea­ listica» toscana, 4. Aurelio Roncaglia shares this thesis. Ghislanzoni argues: “L’anonyme du Cod. Marc. Lat. précise que les Ballatae consistaient en vers notés et chantés en dansant: Ripresa (2 ou 3 vers endécasyllabes), Mutationes (deux strophes de 4 vers

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assonance scheme aaax, in which the last line is put into rhyme with the refrain. Similarly to the ballad, the lauda was certainly accompanied with music, and perhaps also with dance. A sacred semantics of the lauda was inscribed into a secular framework in the milieu of confraternities of penitence and praise.15 The form of ballad meets the sacrum starting from the anonymous Laudario di Cortona. Its sacral form evolves in the works of Jacopone da Todi. In the Cortona collection and Jacopone’s lauda a zéjel type of ballad prevails, while Guittone d’Arezzo develops a complex type of laudatory stanza called ballata maggiore (“major ballad”).16 In terms of versification, within a single lauda, we encounter a quite stable scheme based on the approximate syllabic verse.17 The ballad type of the lauda became extremely popular, which might have been due also to the refrain, which offered the possibility of collective singing and an easy way of memorizing the text. The melody was performed during the services of confraternities by the groups of laudantes.18 The secular ballad had transmitted to the lauda some important features, such as a versification scheme, and the necessity of diversifying the rhyme pattern. The possibility of extending the number of lines within single stanzas seems to be related to this origin too. The marriage between lauda and prayer (especially when the lauda is contaminated by the litany) gives flexibility to the collectively performed aspects of the

15

16 17

18

endécasyllabes ou heptasyllabes), Volta (2 ou 3 vers endécasyllabes). Le Tempus devait être trenaire avec des subdivisions italiennes. (3/2); […].” Alberto Ghislanzoni, “Les formes littéraires et musicales italiennes au commencement di XIVe siècle,” in AA. VV., L’Ars Nova. Recueil d’études sur la musique du XIVe siècle (Paris: Société d’Édition « Les Belles Lettres », 1959), 158. Cf. Roncaglia, “Nella preistoria della lauda,” 467–71. The scheme of ballad originates in this case from the Iberian collection Cantigas de Santa Maria written during the reign of Alfonso X the Wise. The scheme was known and used by Latin poets, such as Adam de Saint-Victor, who applied it in his hymn “Virgo mater Salvatoris.” Roncaglia argues that the Iberian genres in the Italian lauda are mediated through writers from Paris and from Provençe. Cf. Ibid., 472–5. Cf. Ibid., 467–8. Accordingly, for every poem the given measure is an ideal point of reference. We can have an approximate octosyllable verse, and that means the single line of the poem can number from seven to nine–ten syllables. It is related to the presence of the stressed syllables. For a long time scholars thought that the phenomenon was due to the error of the scribe, but nowadays we consider the approximate verse an intentional metrical form of early Italian poetry. There are many documents that mention these services and meetings. Some confraternities of praise had a group of professional choristers, others sung collectively. Probably the rules of the brotherhoods of penitents was not very strict.

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first genre. Finally, the lauda is influenced by recent poetry, such as, for example, the Provençal coblas capfinidas, or in the fourteenth century the terza rima. Thus, it can always receive features and create variants of the basic scheme. In the early period the form of lauda presents two types of structure: i) a rhymed couplet (as a refrain) and a stanza, which correspond to the rhyme pattern xx aaax and are related to the Andalusian zéjel present in the Castilian collection Cantigas de Santa Maria and in the Latin poetry of the school of Notre Dame. The range of the meter is wide (from the seven-syllable to the so-called double seven-syllable verse); ii) a quatrain (as a refrain) and an octave, which correspond to the rhyme pattern abbx ababbccx written in seven-syllable lines and in hendecasyllables (this type was popularized by Guittone d’Arezzo). The organization of texts in a laudario was usually subordinated to the liturgical year.19 The authors are unknown, while the titles of these collections are related to the patron saint of the brotherhood or the church in which the confraternity was located. The laudarios include also other laudas devoted to the dogmas, the Virgin, saints, and some prayers for the dead members of the confraternity. In the collections, sometimes we also find litanies in the vernacular languages.20 The versification will be discussed below. The metrical system of the lauda was based on late medieval Latin versification, without quantitas. At the same time the poets knew the rules of Provençal poetry. The preserved codices of that epoch show a wide range of possibilities in the adopted syllabic measures, such as approximate syllabic verse (anisosillabismo), and syllabic verse, where the standard includes some “delays,” such as hypo- or hypermetric lines. Only the Laudes creaturarum by Francis of Assisi is hardly comparable to the usual models of versification of those times. But let us focus on the issue in a clear way, analyzing the

19 The poems contained in a laudario from Modena are provided with a paratextual note in which the period of recitation of the lauda is indicated, e.g. as far as Regina possentissima, which is analyzed later in this chapter, is concerned: “Si dice nell’ufficio dalla pasqua fino alla domenica di settuagesima, nelle domeniche e nelle feste della vergine e dei santi”. Cf. Matteo Al Kalak and Marta Lucchi, Il laudario dei disciplinati. Preghiere, invocazioni e laude dei confratelli modenesi nei secoli XV–XVI (Modena: Poligrafico Mucchi, 2005), 65. 20 For example in the fourteenth-century laudario from Florence, probably owned by the confraternity of St. Eustace, we find a Litany of the Saints which is enriched with invocations to the patron saint of the brotherhood and to local saints. Cf. Gilberto Aranci, Il laudario fiorentino del Trecento (Florence: Aleph Edizioni, 2002).

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most interesting laudas of the epoch. The last stage of the metrical development of the lauda is an approximate syllabic system with two prevailing types (sevensyllable verse and the hendecasyllable). One should remember that between the thirteenth and the fourteenth century in mainstream poetry the hegemony of the regular hendecasyllable was attained. We believe that the popularization of some new, and the disappearance of other metrical phenomena is related to the linguistic culture of the public of readers. As Paolo Canettieri notes, the persistence of the opposition between the approximate syllabic verse and the regular syllabic system, and the success of a certain type of literature, is influenced not only by the difference between the center, which sets the trends of literary production, and the periphery, which is rather passive, but also by the social class and culture of the public, namely its linguistic and literary education.21 Lauda as a literary genre became very popular among the masses, who were not bilingual, for they did not know Latin or had a very superficial knowledge of it. The second factor of the phenomenon is the verbal transmission of the lauda, which makes it available to every social group.

21 Paolo Canettieri, “La metrica romanza,” in Lo spazio letterario del Medioevo, 2. Il Medioevo volgare. La produzione del testo (II), eds. Piero Boitani, Mario Mancini, and Albero Vàrvaro (Rome: Salerno Editrice, 2002), 493–554.

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2 Francis of Assisi’s Laudes creaturarum It is well known that the “poor man” from Assisi, the founder of the Franciscan order, was also a poet. He is the author of Laudes creaturarum which is also called—depending on the codex—Cantico di Frate Sole and Cantico delle Creature. It is commonly considered the oldest lyrical text in Italian literature. The poem is dated to the 1220s, but the text was created at least in two different moments. The so-called “verses on death” would have been written in the last period of Francis’ life. As two of three versions of the title indicate, the textual model is the biblical canticle, or the story about the three youths in the fiery furnace from the Book of Daniel. Although the original hymn from the Old Testament might be analyzed from the litanic point of view,22 Laudes creatu­ rarum can be directly included in a circle of litanic poetry for several reasons. Preparing the manuscript, the copyist used a spelling convention, so in each modern transcription the biggest problem is to divide the text into lines visualizing the versification scheme. In modern critical editions, editors recognize several possible versions.23 What helps to establish some criteria is the presence, in the oldest manuscript, of three lines intended for musical notation.24 The notation was never affixed, but the lines are placed from the beginning to the word “benedictione.” Here is the text:25 Altissimu, onnipotente, bon Signore, tue so’ le laude, la gloria e l’honore et onne benedictione.

22 Cf. Łukasz Toboła, “Looking for the Origins of Biblical Litanies: The Hymn of the Three Youths in Dan 3:52–90deut,” in Litanic Verse I, eds. Witold Sadowski et al. (Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2016), 29–39. 23 Nowadays we usually read Vittore Branca and Gianfranco Contini’s transcription. An alternative choice could be Silvio Avalle d’Arco’s version, based on the joint analyzes of Laudes craturarum, and Latin tropes and liturgical sequences from the beginning of the thirteenth century. 24 According to the medieval custom, neumes were put only under the first part of a text (“Altissimo…benedictione”). We suppose that the same melody was repeated for each unit of the text. Cf. Vittore Branca, Il cantico di frate sole. Studio delle fonti e testo critico (Florence: Olschki, 1950), 59–63. We have no autograph version of Laudes creaturarum, and the oldest manuscript is dated to the end of the thirteenth century. It is held in the city library of Assisi. 25 Gianfranco Contini, Poeti del Duecento. Testi arcaici, scuola siciliana, poesia cortese (Milan: Ricciardi–Mondadori, 1995b), 33–4.

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Ad te solo, Altissimo, se konfano et nullu homo ène dignu te mentovare. Laudato sie, mi’ Signore, cum tucte le tue creature, spetialmente messor lo frate sole, lo qual’è iorno, et allumini noi per lui. Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore: de te, Altissimo, porta significatione.

5

Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per sora luna e le stelle: in celu l’ài formate clarite et pretiose et belle.

10

Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per frate vento et per aere et nubilo et sereno et onne tempo, per lo quale a le tue creature dai sustentamento. Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per sor’aqua, la quale è multo utile et humile et pretiosa et casta.

15

Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per frate focu, per lo quale ennallumini la nocte: ed ello è bello et iocundo et robustoso et forte. Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per sora nostra matre terra, la quale ne sustenta et governa, et produce diversi fructi con coloriti flori et herba.

20

Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per quelli ke perdonano per lo tuo amore et sostengo infirmitate et tribulatione. Beati quelli ke ’l sosterrano in pace, ka da te, Altissimo, sirano incoronati. Laudato si’ mi’ Signore, per sora nostra morte corporale, da la quale nullu homo vivente pò skappare: guai a.cquelli ke morrano ne le peccata mortali; beati quelli ke trovarà ne le tue sanctissime voluntati, ka la morte secunda no ’l farrà male.

25

30

Laudate e benedicete mi’ Signore et rengratiate e serviateli cum grande humilitate.

Contini and Suitner26 indicate a strong relation with Psalm 148. The latter philologist determines as litanic the general character of Laudes creaturarum. In any case, the scholars underline that Francis should have known well both the Latin 26 Franco Suitner, “Alle origini della lauda,” Giornale storico della letteratura italiana 173(1996): 321–47.

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and Provençal poetical traditions. Let us follow a passage of another transcription. It is worth noticing that for that epoch the presence of assonances in the poems by other authors is automatically reflected in each modern edition as a system of versification—an approach which does not work for Francis’ lauda. Giovanni Pozzi’s proposal is in compliance with the canticle model, or at least with that of the verse of psalms:27 3. Laudato sie, mi’ Signore, cum tucte le tue creature, spetialmente messor lo frate sole, lo qual’è iorno, et allumini noi per lui. Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore: de te, Altissimo, porta significatione. 4. Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per sora luna e le stelle: in celu l’ài formate clarite e pretiose e belle. 5. Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per frate vento e per aere e nubilo e sereno et onne tempo per lo quale a le tue creature dai sustentamento.

Pozzi’s formal restitution highlights the convergence of the text with a tradition, but it is hard not to divide such long lines, written in modern times, at least into two semi-verses. Such division would be referred to the “metrical point,” a graphical mark which in the quoted manuscript lacks only the last line of the text.28 Moreover, the longest lines of Laudes creaturarum count up to fifty syllables and, unlike the canticle from the Book of Daniel, do not present always the same formula. Litanic verse is considered to be a phenomenon of versification, but might it work in complete autonomy, without considering the typographical issues? Let us quote another transcription made by Silvio Avalle d’Arco. We shall observe the great fragmentation of the lines, which increases the distance between the repetitive segments. The reading of such a text necessarily influences the auditory memory of the anaphora. Avalle’s transcription is extremely detailed and introduces a division into stanzas such as that of the hymn Te Deum laudamus, which itself is based on anaphoric sequences:29 27 Giovanni Pozzi, “Rileggendo il Cantico di frate sole,” Messaggero serafico, 60, 8(1971). The dating of Pozzi’s publication is in Luciana Pedroa, “Bibliografia degli scritti di Giovanni Pozzi (1950–2014),” in Metodi e temi della ricerca filologica e letteraria di Giovanni Pozzi, Atti del Seminario di studi Lugano, 10–11 ottobre 2003, ed. Fernando Lepori (Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2014), 125–67. 28 Branca, Il cantico di frate sole, 59. 29 Silvio Avalle d’Arco, “Teoria dei generi paraliturgici alto-medievali fra latino e volgare. Il caso delle Laudes creaturarum di San Francesco,” in Le passage à l’écrit des langues romanes, eds. Maria Selig, Barbara Frank, and Jörg Hartmann (Tubingen: Gunter Narr Verlag, 1993), 230–1.

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Laudato sie, mi’ signore, cum tucte le Tue creature, spetialmente messor lo frate sole, lo qual’è iorno, et allumini noi per loi. Et ellu è bellu e radiante cum grande splendore: de Te, altissimo, porta significatione. Laudatu si’, mi’ signore, per sora luna e le stelle: in celu l’ài formate clarite et pretiose et belle. Laudato si’, mi’ Signore, per frate vento…

In this transcription the distance between the anaphoric words is graphically increased, but the visual effect helps us to recognize their concentration. This way of reading Laudes creaturarum allows us to draw some conclusions about the litanic nature of the poem. In all the mentioned systems of transcription, the central part of the text focuses on chairetisms, figures of repetition, and enumerated elements (luna, stelle, vento, aere, aqua, focu, notte, terra, fructi, flori, herba—moon, stars, wind, air, water, fire, night, ground, fruits, flowers, grass— together with their attributes).30 We observe that the litanic potential lies in the lines 10–24 (according to Contini’s version) from which it spreads in a less intense way throughout the text. Analyzing the references to the biblical models, such as canticle or psalm, we shall notice the passive voice31 in Francis’ text. Although in the part on “sister moon” and “sister water”—as in the lines devoted to the necessity of forgiveness—this grammatical construction does not affect the litanic laudation, but opens up the problem of congruence of the passive voice with the litanic semantics. At the same time, such a mode seems to be directly related to the biblical form of blessings, which appears openly in the last lines of the text. Anaphora

30 Unless otherwise indicated, translations are mine. In other cases it is indicated in a footnote. 31 Notes in Pozzi, Rileggendo il Cantico, passim.

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expressed by the passive voice are later used in Italian religious poetry,32 being associated sometimes with the litanic nature of poems. Let us remark another syntactic aspect which contributes to the litanic character of Francis’ poem. The presence of the preposition per33 arranges a dense litanic sequence, especially in the lines 10–18 (Contini’s transcription). Laudes creaturarum is influenced by both the biblical canticle and the blessing form. The poem presents strong links with the Old and New Testaments, and additionally with forms of praising and laudatory prayer. Laudes creaturarum could be considered as an example of early consolidation of the litanic potential within the genre of lauda. Further development of the form would prove a high degree of compatibility of these two genres of discourse.

32 In some of Bianco da Siena’s poems that are discussed in my “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena,” Bullettino senese di storia patria CXXII(2015): 155–69. 33 Twice it functions as a relative pronoun.

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3 Litanic-Enumerative Segments in the Early Anonymous Lauda According to Gianfranco Contini, Rayna possentissima34 would be the oldest non-Latin lauda written in the cultural circle of the confraternities. It is related to the environment of the Servi della Vergine founded in Bologna at the beginning of the thirteenth century. It seems that the confraternity funded the construction of its own church in 1211. An indicator of the age of this lauda would be the alternate use of the Italian alexandrine verse with sequences of litanic invocations.35 The stanza scheme corresponds to the model of laisse. Let us read an excerpt (ll. 1–14; 21–26): Rayna possentissima, sovr’el cel si’ asaltaa. vu sij sanctificaa. Sovra la vita ançelica S c a l a   d e   s a p ï e n c i a, m a r e   d e   r e v e r e n c i a, vu si’ purificata, s p o x a   d e   I e s ù   C r i s t o, i n   c e l o   h u m i l ï a d a. Denançi al re de gloria vu siti incoronata. De le vertù altissime tuta ne si’ ornata. de Ioachìn fusti nata. [Ma]donna perfectissima, Per salvar[e] lo segolo fusti al mondo creata, s t e l l a   d o l c e   c l a r i s s i m a, g e m a g l o r i f i c a t a. vuy si’ magnificata. Sovra le grande flore Corona sij d’imperio fin or fabricata, s t e l l a   d e l   m o n d o   o r n a t a, p a l m a   p r e c ï o s i s s i m a, e n t r o   e l   ç a r d i n   o l e n t i s s i m o r o x a   i n g a r o f o l a t a, h u m i l i a t a   p u r i s s i m a, v ï o l a   [ i n ] v ï o l a t a. […] Vuy si’ fontana de gracia, madona aprexïata, o l i v a   r e p l a n t a t a, i n g u e n t o   o l e n t i s s i m o, m a n n a   d a l   c e l   m a n d a t a. b a l s e m o   o l e n t i s s i m o, Sovra la mel dolcissima, vu si’ humilïata. Sovra tute le verçene vuy si’ luxe abraxata.

34 Nowadays, we have at our disposal two copies of the text. Contini prints the fourteenthcentury version found in Ferrara. This text can be dated back to the period between the 1240s and 1270s. Cf. Contini, Poeti del Duecento. Laude, 7–10. This should be the approximate dating of the poem. 35 Ibid.

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The text is rich in invocations consisting of Marian attributes or litanic antonomasias.36 Moreover, entire segments of the poem lack predicates, and even the copula, which fixes the identity of the subject—such as “vu si’ fontana de gracia” (“you are the source of grace”)—appears as rarely as every 3–4 lines. It is worth noticing that the internal rhyme (l. 3) occurs in the later part of the poem. The paroxytone and proparoxytone seven-syllabic verse—placed in metrically relevant positions—contain direct quotations from the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the version from Venice (or Aquileia).37 These quotes are the model for rich new invocations to the Virgin Mary. Contini observes a connection between Rayna possentissima and the litanies, but he does not take up an analysis. Having examined a remarkable number of Marian laudas, we can conclude that in the syntactic order the model of apposition induces a multiplication of short and apparently self-sufficient syntagms, which are coordinated by implied subjects and predicates. From the metrical point of view, they enrich and complete the versification working as modules that can be added in order to obtain a specific measure of the lines. Moreover, these elements, recurring in both litanies and laudas, would have been familiar to the audience, the faithful and the friars. The success of such a formal solution38 could be due to the easy means of creating new segments. Thanks to the mentioned modules the poets enrich as they like the semantics of their enumerations, maintaining the principle of variatio that accompanies the repetitiveness of the anaphoras.

3.1 Lauda-orazione Another early lauda—a prayer to the Virgin Mary which dates from the second half of the thirteenth century—manifests the linguistic peculiarities of the region of Padua.39 It presents the rhyme pattern aaaa; the meter is based on the 36 Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 28, 55, 209. 37 For two early versions of the Venezianische litanein. Cf. Gilles Meersseman, Der Hymnos Akathistos im Abendland (Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1958–1960). A further version, together with the story of the origin located in Aquileia, can be found in: Alessio Persic, “Le litanie mariane ‘aquileiesi’ secondo le recensioni manoscritte friulane a confronto con la tradizione comune,” Theotokos XII (2004): 367–88. 38 Fragments of this text appear in different ladarios, for example, that of Modena. Cf. Mahmoud Salem Elsheikh, Il laudario dei Battuti di Modena (Bologna: Commissione per i testi di lingua, 2001), 100–1. In the same collection, we find some texts from the codex of Cortona, such as laudas by Ser Garzo. 39 Giorgio Varanini, “Una lauda-orazione del secolo XIII,” Studi e problemi di critica testuale 2(1971): 99–102.

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double seven-syllable lines. Litanic invocations comprise the first half of the text, in which Marian attributes are listed. Let us read a passage (ll. 1–3, 8): Vergine glorïosa, matre de pïetate, fonte de onne bellezza, giglo de castitate, fonte del cast[ell]o [de] amore, foco de caritate, […] medecina del mondo, conceda a noy sanitate40

In this litanic fragment we find expressions that are rare in the poetry of that epoch, such as “medecina del mondo” (“medicine of the world,” l. 8), which could be interpreted as a metonymy related to “cutis mee medela,”41 a Latin apostrophe included in the translation of the Akathist Hymn. Supplicatory requests comprise the other half of Lauda-orazione. The attributes have different functions in the lauda, working first of all as a subsidiary factor of versification. It becomes a popular mode in the laudarios, for example in Laudario della compagnia di San Gilio42 and laudario veneto,43 both written in the following centuries. At that time the condensed, enumerative litanic model proposed in the analyzed Marian laudas is rarefied in order to highlight some structural features of new poems. By contrast, the metrical function of the litanic inserts, inherited from the early lauda, is maintained.44 This is a crucial issue to examine in depth for understanding the nature of the genre of lauda. A poetics of praise with an enumeration of attributes may be associated with the supplication for intercession. It often occupies the opening parts of both entire poems and short passages.45 Since the approximate versification is well rooted, over the following decades, it is transformed to fulfill a systemic 40 Ibid.: 101. 41 Meersseman, Der Hymnos, 126 (l. 240). 42 Concetto Del Popolo, Laude fiorentine. Il laudario della compagnia di San Gilio, vol. 1 (Florence: Olschki, 1990). 43 Cf. Fabris, Il più antico laudario veneto. 44 Cf. Del Popolo, Il laudario della compagnia di San Gilio. I, 300–2. Lauda 50, lines 1–2, 11–5: “Salve, glorïosa vergine gaüdente / baldança et conforto dell’amorosa gente. // […] O gilglio splendidissimo, o fiore col bello aulore, / piantato im paradiso da l’alto Crëatore; / che v’à mandato a dire l’altissimo Sengnore? / Che vi vuol dare corona del lume d’orïente. // Vòl gà margharita splendïe et dilecta, […].” 45 An interesting example is a cantare from the fourteenth century written by Neri Pagliaresi, an author from the circle of Catherine of Siena. His major work, the narrative poem Leggenda di santo Giosafà, presents several parts constructed following this model. Cf. Neri Pagliaresi, fra Felice Tancredi da Massa, Niccolò Cicerchia, Cantari religiosi senesi del Trecento, ed. Giorgio Varanini (Bari: Laterza, 1965).

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function. Therefore, the settlement of metrical standards can be considered as an early function of the enumeration derived from the litany. The Marian attributes, which spread in the thirteenth-century verse, inaugurate a model of rhetoric and syntax. Starting from the end of the thirteenth century, this model would become a relevant shaping element of the poetics of love in the Apennine Peninsula.

3.2  Laudario di Cortona Laudario di Cortona is the oldest preserved collection of vernacular laudas. At the same time it is a complex monument of the early stage of vernacular Italian. Historians and philologists date the manuscript variously to the 1260s,46 1280s, or 1290s.47 It was discovered in the archives of the city library in Cortona (Tuscany) at the end of the nineteenth century. The preserved codex, probably the “book of cantor,”48 contains forty-four texts and musical notation on one-, two-, three- or four-line staffs, depending on the melody span.49 The monodic music that results from the manuscript seems to be referable to Franciscan ideals of simplicity. The effect is radically different from the polyphonic style of Pérotin and Léonin—which was considered perhaps too pompous here, near to the border between Tuscany and Umbria, the heartland of Franciscan simplicity— which was most commonly in use at that time. As far as the poems are concerned, the laudario is a codification of previous, oral tradition. The approximate syllabic verse works in a framework of octosyllables, nine-syllables, and hendecasyllabic lines.50 The stanzas are based on the rhyme (assonance) pattern of the laisse (AAAA or aaaa)—some texts which represent an earlier stage are also preserved—and on the profane ballad (AAAX, aaax). The topic is mostly praise of the Virgin,51 who was probably the patron saint of the confraternity that owned the codex. Nevertheless, we find also laudas that 46 Cf. Contini, Poeti del Duecento, 11. 47 Virgilio Di Benedetto, “Le laudi di Ser Garzo dall’Incisa,” Drammaturgia 6(III): 437. 48 Clemente Terni, Laudario di Cortona (Spoleto: Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 1992), XV. 49 Cf. Terni, Laudario, XVI. Terni assumes the square notation (the so-called “vatican,” non-mensural one, which was used for the Gregorian chants). He also assumes two basic clefs. Terni links the musical accent to the poetical one. 50 Contini, Poeti del Duecento, 11. 51 The most important common element of the Italian lauda, the Spanish Cantigas de Santa Maria, and the French Les miracles de Notre Dame by Gautier de Coinci is the Marian topic and the purpose of praise. Cf. Terni, Laudario, XIX.

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address the Holy Spirit and the Trinity, poems on Jesus, lives of the saints (Francis of Assisi, Anthony of Padua, Catherine of Alexandria), lyrical texts on figures from the Gospels (Mary Magdalene, John the Baptist), and poetical encouragements to praise and love God. Certain laudas devoted to the Virgin Mary include, in the last stanza, an explicit reference to a name, Ser Garzo, the supposed author of the laudas, although the scholars do not agree on whether he actually existed.52 The laudario is rich in Marian antonomasias linked to the forms of prayer. Sometimes they are related to the Latin tradition of the Akathist Hymn, at other times to early Marian litanies, or extra-liturgical hymns. Sequences of apostrophes to the Virgin are often used with a litanic purpose. The linguistic aspect of the laudas is related to the central-Italian vernacular, but short Latin inserts are often included. Lauda VI is a peculiar litany, in which the succession of quatrains contains one- or two-line apostrophes to the Virgin Mary. The second part of each stanza develops the apostrophic attributes in full sentences. We find here a relevant reference to the Akathist Hymn,53 “Ave, scala per la quale  / descese la Deïtade”54 (cf. “Ave, scala celestis, per quam descendit deus”55), and a rhythmically integrated Latin quotation (“Ave, Paradisi porta”56). A closer look at Lauda XV57 (ll. 1–2; 11–14; 43–54):

52 In the late-nineteenth century, because of his unusual name, Ser Garzo was identified as the great-grandfather of Petrarch, Garzo dall’Incisa. Petrarch mentions his ancestor in his collection of letters entitled Familiares. Younger scholars have doubts as to the existence of the person mentioned in the laudario, and propose to consider the name as a profession. A boy-cantor would be a teacher of singing often hired by the confraternities. Cf. Maria Sofia Lannutti, “Iacopone musico e garzo doctore: nuove ipotesi di interpretazione,” in Iacopone da Todi: atti del 37. Convegno storico internazionale, Todi, 8–11 ottobre 2000 (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto Medioevo, 2001), 337–62. 53 Anonymous authors of laudas are influenced by the Latin version of the Akathist Hymn. In an Umbrian collection of Gualdo Tadino we find an interesting paraphrase of this model. A lauda narrating the Virgin’s life is composed on anaphoras placed at the beginning of each stanza. The model is: “Ave vergene” + attribute + “ke” + past tense verb. Cf. Ruggero Guerrieri, Il laudario lirico della confraternità di Santa Maria dei raccomandati in Gualdo Tadino (Perugia: Unione tipografica cooperativa, 1923), 33. The laudario is not as ancient or as interesting as the one we present in this chapter. It contains texts that one can find in older codices. 54 Laudario di Cortona, ed. Anna Maria Guarnieri (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto Medioevo, 1991), 38 (ll. 11–12). 55 Meersseman, Der Hymnos, 106 (line 33). 56 Guarnieri, Laudario, 38 (line 23). 57 Guarnieri, Laudario, 73–5.

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O divina v i r g o, flore aulorita d’ogne aulore. […] T u   e s   s a c r a,  v i r g o   p i a, t u,  d u l c i s s i m a   M a r i a, tu ke se’ la dritta via per venir al Salvatore. […] Tu se’ via de viritade, scala se’ d’umilitade; de te prese umanitade Iesù, nostro Redentore. Tu se’ gloria del Paradiso58 sempre parente di viso; tu [se’] gloria, tu se’ riso, tu se’ rosa cun dolzore. Ave, v i r g o ingrazïata, ave, D e i obumbrata, ke ’n ciel se’ encoronata madre d’ogne peccatore.

Relating to the other texts included in the collection, the apostrophes contained in Lauda XV enumerate both conventional attributes and original expressions. Their general semantic mark fixes the set of female virtues. The trochaic rhythm that prevails in the Marian salutations is also supported in some of the Latin passages. It is worth noting that the author(s) of Laudario di Cortona certainly knew the secular poetry of their epoch—the Marian semantics includes direct references to the Sicilian love poetry and its Tuscan heritage. In fact, the end of 58 In Dante’s Commedia there is a circumlocution concerning a vision of Beatrice, “ché dentro a gli occhi suoi ardeva un riso / tal, ch’io pensai co’ miei toccar lo fondo / de la mia gloria e del mio paradiso.” This is the form of the manuscript Urbinate Latino 365, dated to the middle of the fifteenth century. It is published in Dante Alighieri, La Commedia secondo l’antica vulgata, ed. Giorgio Petrocchi (Florence: Le Lettere, 1994); Dantis Alagherii Comedìa, ed. Federico Sanguineti (Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2001): this critical edition is a restitutio textus of the copyist from the Northern Italy. Many researchers consider the Urbinate Latino 365 (previously considered as codex optimus) a good supporter of many original lectio of the poem by Dante. For example, in other popular editions the same lines are printed as follows: “gloria” replaced by “grazia”. Cf. Dante Alighieri, Divina Commedia (Turin: Utet, 2010a), 1186 (Paradiso, XV, lines 34–36). Glory and paradise are two concepts related to Beatrice also in Vita Nuova.

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the thirteenth century is a period of frequent contacts between the imagery of women in secular and in religious poetry.59 The two visions mutually penetrate each other for several decades, leading to a synthesis that will emerge as the representation of woman in Dante’s and Petrarch’s poetry.60 From the musical point of view, Lauda XV is divided between soloist and choir in a way that corresponds to a typical responsorial form of lauda. It manifests a melodic scheme in the stanzas which is characterized by a repetitive even line (ABCB),61 in which the fragment of melody sung each time by the choir is the same. This would allow one to associate the musical part with the responsorial formula spoken by the faithful during the recitation of the litanies, but the solo part presents two versions. Undoubtedly the melody of the cantor is more complex, usually being performed by a person who had received a musical education, while the collective part is simpler, being based on mnemonics that apply to both words and music.62

3.3 The Holy Spirit Lauda XXXI63 presents interesting evidence of the development of pietas of the Holy Spirit. The poem is the last in the sequence of three laudas which address it. A closer look will help us to focus on some litanic features that might have been developed in an independent way (ll. 1–30; 43–46): 59 The main exponents of this tendency are the court poets of Frederick II Hohenstaufen, Tuscan poets, and later the poets of the dolce stil novo. 60 Petrarch quotes one of the mentioned antonomasias describing Laura and Jesus: “fonte di pietà” (“Sonnet 203”) and “fonte di pietate” (“Canzone 366”). The expression, found in different texts of the thirteenth century (also in Lauda XV from Cortona), is usually attributed to the Virgin Mary. Laura’s gaze, in an etymological pun, is compared to the source of salvation (the Latin “fons” appears as a Marian description in the Akathist Hymn). In the thirteenth century, in the expression “fontana d’ogni mia salute” (“Canzone 73”), “salute” means “salvation”. Cf. Francesco Petrarca, Canzoniere, ed. Paola Vecchi Galli (Milan: BUR Classici, 2013). 61 Melody scheme read based on Terni’s transcription. Cf. Terni, Laudario di Cortona, 41–4. 62 A study of the medieval way of singing the litanies could be interesting. Our only possibility today is to simplify the question, by identifying our manner of performing the litanies with the original. Nevertheless, it is worth remembering that the medieval techniques of chant were different. Moreover, the litany is born outside the codified ways of singing of the Church. We have evidence of the melodies of the Akathist Hymn, but we have not found modern studies of their relations with the melodies of the litanies. 63 Guarnieri, Laudario di Cortona, 135–8.

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(Lauda XXXI) Spirito santo da servire, dann’al cor de Te sentire!

(Litany of Holy Spirit)

Spiritu di veritade e fontana de bontade, per la Tua benignitade la Tua via ne fa’ seguire.

Spirito di amore e di verità

Spiritu de pïetade, flamma ardente e caritade, ben pò stare in securtade ki a Te vole obidire.

Spirito di sapienza e di pietà infiammaci col fuoco del tuo amore

De l’alto Dio se’ donamento, fonte viva et ungemento: Spiritu d’entendimento, Tu ne degi mantenere. Spiritu consigliadore, d’ogne verità dottore; ki Te lauda cun bon core mai[e] non porrea perire. Spiritu del sancto timore, ke converti ei peccatori, tu se’ casto e dolze amore più ke lingua non pò dire. Spiritu de sapïenza, de fortezza e de scïenza: la Tua compagnia K’è ’n presenza Tu la degi mantenere. Ei profeti amaïstrasti e la Vergene obumbrasti: tutta la santificasti enn-el Tuo santo venire. […] De li iusti se’ dolzore, patre de li peccatori; l’anime fai sante et pure, ed a gloria pervenire.

conduci noi nella via della salvezza

Sorgente d’acqua viva

Spirito di consiglio /Spirito confortatore Spirito d’amore e di verità

Spirito di umiltà e castità Spirito di sapienza e di scienza Spirito di consiglio e di fortezza

Spirito di umiltà e castità / Spirito santificatore

Together with the lauda, we juxtapose the Litany of the Holy Spirit which was probably created later—on the right we quote passages from the modern, canonical text. The text of Lauda XXXI opens with a sequence of invocations which 52

remind us of litanic antonomasias. From line 27, a narrative part starts radically changing the nature of the poem. Coming back to the litanic qualities, the double epithets possess a certain lexical compatibility with the text of the Litany of the Holy Spirit, a distant text, but perhaps common roots between the two works can be traced.64 As we can only suppose, the linguistic source should be Latin. Although the attributes in the analyzed lauda are paired, the text is not composed in a mechanical manner. The metrical issue is one of the criteria, if we consider, for example, the hiatus—thanks to which one more metrical syllable is added— which concerns some words, such as “pïetade,” “sapïenza,” etc. The musical aspect presents a small variation for the choral finalis (ABAB’65), so the melody scheme partially results from the litanic character of the text. Finally, let us briefly mention Lauda XLV,66 which in the codex from Cortona presents the poetic signature of Ser Garzo in the final part (l. 77). We find the same lauda among the poems attributed to Jacopone da Todi. Indeed, in the 1950s Franca Ageno considered it to be one of the oldest texts of Jacopone.67 Its presence in the analyzed laudario indicates that the topic of many following mystical laudas, together with a set of formulas, could have existed even before 64 Another distantly related poem devoted to the Holy Spirit is the Latin “Veni Sancte Spiritus” (nowadays a liturgical sequence for the Pentecost). It was created in England at least few decades earlier. Our lauda and the hymn do not display many common elements. For an analysis of “Veni Sancte Spiritus”. Cf. Giovanni Getto, Ospite dell’anima. Meditazioni sullo Spirito Santo (Milan: Jaca Book, 1991). 65 Guarnieri in her critical edition of the texts reports the scheme of the melodies. In this case, she does not report the variation of the melody in the final verse. Nevertheless, Agostino Ziino in his musicological analysis of Laudario di Cortona asserts that from the musical point of view, this kind of variation would have been an important phenomenon in the medieval lauda. Cf. Agostino Ziino, Strutture strofiche nel laudario di Cortona (Palermo: Lo Monaco Editore, 1968). The variation in question concerns the last notes of the verse (otherwise the melody is as B)—it is related to the division into cantor and choir, and indicates the persistent importance of the refrain. 66 Guarnieri, Laudario di Cortona, 248–53. Lauda “Amor dolze senza pare” isn’t signed in other codices. Cf. Franca Ageno, Jacopone da Todi. Laudi, trattato e detti (Florence: Le Monnier, 1953). The only other laudario in which we find Ser Garzo’s poetical mark is that of Siena, according to Di Benedetto, “Le laudi di ser Garzo:” 422–41. 67 It is necessary to recognize that the two versions of the poem are not exactly alike. Moreover, Rosanna Bettarini postulates that the lauda belongs to the poetry of the socalled “Jacopone school,” that we present further in this chapter. According to Bettarini, parts of this lauda would have been very popular poetical modules attributed to Jacopone. Cf. Rosanna Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate (Florence: Sansoni, 1969), 463, 471.

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Jacopone. “Amor dolze senza pare” (“Sweet Love who has no equal”) might have influenced the poetics of Jacopone, especially the anaphoras starting with “Amor.” In this lauda, we find the following description: “Amor dolze,” “Oh sweet Love,” lines 1, 55; “Amor senza comincianza,” “Oh Love without beginning,” line 3; “Amor, Tu non abandoni,” “You, Love, do not abandon,” line 15; “Amor grande,” “Oh True Love,” line 19; “Amor pien de caritade,” “Oh Love full of charity,” line 59, etc. Guarnieri draws attention to the Umbrian tradition of this lauda, which is manifest in five stanzas placed in the middle of the poem—significantly this is the part in which we do not find any invocation opening the quatrains, but only one apostrophe is hidden inside a stanza.68 Due to the differences of rhythm and versification, we can conclude that if the versions of Ser Garzo and that of the school of Jacopone had a common nucleus, it must be remote.69 The texts differ one from another both in the metrical scheme (for example the prevailing seven-syllabic, or odd verse, versus octosyllable, or even verse), and in the rhythmical dominant (mainly iambic versus mainly trochaic).70 In the laudario from Cortona, the litanic character usually concerns the rhetorical level of the enumerations—quotations or original expressions shaped on existing, litanic formulas—which contribute to the stability of the new, syllabic verse. The poetical prayers in latium vulgare could have increased the need for the vernacular prayers. A fourteenth-century codex entitled Orationarium, found in the small Tuscan town of Volterra, is provided with a vernacular Marian litany close to the model from Aquileia and different from the Litany of Loreto,71 even if it is difficult to ascertain the exact period, or the occasions on which the text could have been used.

68 E.g. “Amor, non Te puoi tenere / a chi Te sa ademandare,” lines 81–82. 69 Cf. Di Benedetto, “Le laudi di ser Garzo,” 437. 70 For the following periods Francesco Luisi, a musicologist who studied popular songs from Florence, notes that iambic seven-syllable and hendecasyllable verse were typical of the musical ballads of that area. According to Luisi, those verses were replaced by a trochaic octosyllable at the time of Lorenzo the Magnificent. Cf. Francesco Luisi, La musica vocale nel rinascimento. Studi sulla musica vocale profana in Italia nei secoli XV e XVI, ERI, (Torino, 1977), 185. 71 Cf. Giovanni Giannini, Litanie volgari del secolo XIV (Lucca: Tipografia Giusti, 1893). Giannini, philologist and collector of popular poetry, was an alumnus of the great nineteenth-century expert of lauda Alessandro D’Ancona. In a private publication, which was a wedding gift, he printed the mentioned, Tuscan text, transcribed from the fourteenth-century codex from Volterra.

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4 Jacopone da Todi Jacopone da Todi was born in 1232 into a family of wealthy merchants from Perugia. He spent his youth studying at the University of Bologna, one of the largest academic centers of his epoch.72 The hagiographies remark the notarial profession and an early life full of excess. Having suffered a loss, probably he experienced a moment of religious conversion. After that Jacopone joined one of the confraternities of penitents, and then the Franciscan order—he became an itinerant monk and poet. Fra Jacopone, as he was called, did not avoid politics— Pope Boniface VIII sentenced him to life imprisonment for conspiracy with the Colonna family, which was powerful and anti-papal.73 Jacopone da Todi left behind religious poetry, letters, and invectives against the division of the papacy. One of the oldest images of Jacopone represents the monk turning an open book towards the public—the legible text is the incipit of his Lauda 53.74 Jacopone’s vernacular poetry was known during his lifetime, or by shortly after his death, it is reasonable to infer. In his poetics, he chose the mystical-laudatory tendency initiated by Francis of Assisi. Ioculator Domini75 is a term commonly adopted during the Middle Ages to describe Jacopone da Todi.

4.1  An Authored Laudario The collection of laudas written by Jacopone presents a free organization and a wide range of topics. While the anonymous laudarios follow the recurring events of the liturgical year, the laudas of Jacopone have no specific arrangement. From our point of view, the main characteristic of Jacopone’s poetry is its high level of elaboration of both the tradition of prayer and the poetics of love. In Jacopone’s poetry, the holy addressees are often replaced by abstract nouns—and “Love” is 72 But see Enrico Menestò, Le vite antiche di Iacopone da Todi (Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1977), LX. 73 After Boniface died, Jacopone was released. The poet died three years later. 74 Jacopone da Todi, Laude, 110–13. 75 According to a legend, when the first friars asked Francis of Assisi how to live, the saint would recommend that they be “ioculatores Domini.” Villemain told about Jacopone da Todi: “C’était, si vous le voulez, le bouffon du genre, dont le Dante était le poète.” Abel François Villemain Cours de littérature française: tableau de la littérature au Moyen Age en France, en Italie, en Espagne et en Angleterre, II (Paris: Didier, 1846). Cf. Matteo Leonardi, “Introduzione,” in ed. Jacopone da Todi, Laude (Florence: Olschki, 2010), VII.

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a way of referring to Christ—in such a way the invoked addressee turns out to be sublimated. As we remember, the anonymous lauda uses the canonical Christian names. Jacopone creates a new, mystical type of lauda, enriching the topics touched by the genre. The thematic and lexical preferences of Italian mysticism are developed by Jacopone in the form of planctus, or conversation with either the Crucified, or “Love” (which means both Christ and God, even if the last name is not explicitly mentioned). The laudas devoted to Christ carry out a large number of antonomasias, which replace the name of Jesus. Their semantics is constructed on both Franciscan discourse and Provencal poetics,76 as well as on the thirteenth-century vernacular didactic poetry. Jacopone’s revolution consisted of blending the secular language with that of the Holy Scriptures, Latin hymns, and sermo vulgaris. Scholars emphasize a deep, mutual re-semantization of all these components.77 From the very beginning Jacopone’s works caused certain difficulties of interpretation, but at the same time they became the most important reference point for the spiritual poetry of the following centuries. Jacopone’s works undoubtedly boosted the development of the religious literature, most of all of mystical poetry and prose. An early, and rather persistent opinion holds Jacopone to be a unique and unequalled poet of his kind, but we prefer to recognize the existence of a school based on Jacopone’s tradition and influence, starting from the fourteenth century. Anonymous followers from Urbino, and poets like Bianco da Siena and Ugo Panziera followed, developed, or popularized the mystical poetry. The poetics of “sancta pazzia” continued into the late fifteenth century, as we infer from the verses of the Florentine spiritual writer Feo Belcari.78 It is worth observing that this idea of the uniqueness of Master Jacopone was formed in the late fifteenth century. It spread along with the early print editions of works by Jacopone da Todi, in which more

76 Also for the literary genres: we can divide the laudas by Jacopone into ballads about divine love, moral poetry, and dialogs. This classification reflects the Provençal canon, which consists of canso, sirventes, and tenso. Cf. Maurizio Perugi, “Trovatori in lingua d’oc e poeti del Duecento italiano,” in Iacopone da Todi. Atti del XXXVII Convegno storico internazionale (Spoleto: Centro Italiano di studi sull’altro Medioevo, 2001), 220 (see also: footnote 69, ibid.). 77 For studies of the grammatical and semantic features of Jacopone’s language, cf. Elena Landoni, La grammatica come storia della poesia (Rome: Bulzoni, 1997), 51–5. 78 About the inspirations from the Bible, the medieval sermons and the mystical vernacular tradition in Feo Belcari’s laudas. Cf. Stefano Cremonini, “Il linguaggio biblico nelle Laude di Feo Belcari,” in Sotto il cielo delle scritture, eds. Carlo Delcorno and Giovanni Baffetti (Florence: Olschki, 2009), 171–92.

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than two hundred laudas are attributed to him. The same model of thinking is perpetuated in the nineteenth-century literary historiography, which still influences our view of the Middle Ages.79 In this representation, Jacopone da Todi is the only authentic genius of his epoch and has no successor. Most research is devoted to confirming the authorship of works attributed to him. In this study we refer to poems which are currently considered Jacopone’s works,80 which form a corpus of over one hundred laudas. Let us note that the term lauda, or song of praise, was attributed to Jacopone’s lyric poetry in remote ages. From the point of view of the history of the genre, he was its greatest innovator. In fact, it is difficult to find formal relationships with Laudes creaturarum by Francis of Assisi.81 Jacopone’s works became a strong literary model for the genre, setting its standards of versification, and giving a great impulse to its formal development. The purpose of our analysis is to describe the evolution of an innovative poetics of repetition, on which Jacopone’s mysticism is based. We shall explore the idea of litanic versification and its conditions of possibility in the early vernacular poetry. We expect also that a model of litanicy will be here established, at least as far as spiritual poetry is concerned. In his preface to the critical edition of the laudas by Jacopone da Todi, Matteo Leonardi notes the importance of the repetitive formulas—he includes a brief note devoted to their emphasis, which is analyzed from the point of view of the thirteenth-century rhetoric of ars praedicandi. The scholastic perspective is assumed, according to which the truth does not need to be proved, but simply dictated to the listener. As Leonardi remarks, in our case it is implemented through the amplification.82 In Jacopone’s poetics, the persuasion would be carried out using the conduplicatio which transforms into gradatio. In addition, the frequent anaphoras, epiphoras, and figures of complexio are explained through a general trend to apply the structures of spoken

79 Cf. Giulio Ferroni, Storia della letteratura italiana. Dalle Origini al Quattrocento (Turin: Einaudi, 1991), 129. 80 As regards the religious literature from the thirteenth century, the most important philological and linguistic studies of the last century start in Italy with Franca Ageno. Cf. e.g. Franca Ageno, “Questioni di autenticita nel laudario iacoponico,” Convivium raccolta nuova, 4(1952): 555–87. The first print edition of Jacopone’s poetry was the so-called “Edizione Bonaccorsi” (1490). The modern jacoponic tradition derives from that collection. 81 The complex origin of the early lauda is analyzed in Suitner, “Alle origini delle laude.” 82 According to a general assumption which associates repetitiveness and emphasis. Cf. Heinrich Lausberg, Elementi di retorica.

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language, as it occurs in the preaching and the ars memoranda.83 Leonardi, however, does not consider the potential of the repetitiveness as it is related to the prayer, particularly to its litanic forms. Leonardi notes that in Jacopone’s poetry a peculiar, rhythmized anaphora occurs. In our perspective, this constitutes a coherent system of repetitions associated with Christological representations. Their mystical nature is determined by a particular kind of anaphora, or sequence of obsessively repeated apostrophes to the “Love” or “Love-Jesus” that should attract the addressee. Although the mystical discourse does not contain any response84—or at least not a textual one—its requests apply for direct contact with those receivers of the prayer who are in Heaven. In our analysis, we focus on the speaker-addressee relationship and take into account some aspects of the oral performance of the verse.

4.2  Amor-Iesù Here, we are dealing with a group of laudas in which the Christological-mystical discourse is built up and a high degree of poetical innovation accompanies an interesting interpretation of the religious topics. The apostrophes to “Love-Jesus” introduce epithets and brief expressions of praise. The conative function of language is here adapted to the mystical dialogue, and the sender of the message seeks for an answer that does not arrive. Let us read Lauda 8985 (ll. 243–246): Amor, Amore, che sì m’ài firito, altro che amore non pòzzo gridare; Amor, Amore, teco so’ unito, altro non pòzzo che te abracciare;

The two variants, “Amor”/“Amore,” are derived from thirteenth-century love poetry. In the same period, among the poets of the dolce stil novo, the expression came to refer to a pagan deity to which lyrical prayers were addressed.86 In Jacpone’s works the apostrophe to Christ transforms into an antonomasia, and 83 For all this section, cf. Leonardi, “Introduzione,” V–LVII, especially XXIV–XXVIII. 84 Cf. Giovanni Pozzi, “L’alfabeto delle sante,” in Scrittrici mistiche italiane, eds. Giovanni Pozzi and Claudio Leonardi (Genoa: Marietti, 1988), 29. 85 Jacopone da Todi, Laude, 194–9. 86 The opening of a poem by Lapo Gianni, “Amore i’ non son degno ricordare / tua nobiltate e tuo canoscimento: / però chero perdon, se fallimento / fosse di me vogliendoti laudare.” is an interesting case of a calqued liturgical prayer (“I am not worthy”). Cf. Marco Berisso, Poesie dello Stilnovo (Milan: Biblioteca Universale Rizzoli, 2006), 411–3.

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this becomes one of the most characteristic features of his laudas. Now, both Christian scriptures and theological works identify God with love, with reference to which the Latin translation of the Bible uses the word caritas.87 Such a lexical association dominates in the Christian lexicon at least till the late Middle Ages. Jacopone’s mysticism manifests a kind of obsessive tic associated with the recurrence of the word-apostrophe “Love.” This leads to new metrical modules and images that construct the dominant tone88 of his poetry. The rhythmic scheme of the repeated formula is: ∪ / ∪ / Lauda 89 is the only litanic lauda of Jacopone written using the octave (the rhyme scheme is ababab(b)c(c)x89) and the hendecasyllable mixed with the Italian alexandrine, which takes up the last two lines of each stanza. Lauda 89 manifests a high frequency of invocations to “Love-Jesus.” As for the lexical sources, the text is strongly linked with the Sicilian and Tuscan poetry of, for instance, Giacomo da Lentini, Betto Mettefuoco, and Meo Abbracciavacca. In lines 1–242 the apostrophe “Amore” appears as both anaphora and epiphora. Lines 243–290 contain a litany. Let us have a look at lines 251–266: Amor, Amor-Iesù, so’ iont’a pporto, Amor, Amor-Iesù, tu m’ài menato, Amor, Amor-Iesù, damme conforto, Amor, Amor-Iesù, ssì m’à’ enflammato, Amor, Amor-Iesù, pensa l’opporto, famme en te stare, Amor, sempre abracciato, con teco trasformato en vera caritate e ’n summa veretate de trasformato amore.

87 1 Corinthians 13, 4 opens with: “Caritas patiens est, benigna est. Caritas non æmulatur, non agit perperam, non inflatur, ecc.”. Cf. Vulgata Clementina, editione vaticana anni 1592, http://vulsearch.sourceforge.net/html/index.html. accessed on September 30, 2014. This regards also the Italian (or Tuscan) early translations, in which we find the word “charita.”, Cf. La Biblia tradotta in lingua toscana da Antonio Brucioli (Vinegia: Lucantonio Giunti fiorentino, 1532). http://bibbia.filosofia.sns.it/bbTextsArea_bibbia. php. Accessed on September 30, 2014. In 1564 the Council of Trent prohibited the printing of the Holy Bible in modern languages. The reading of translations of the Vulgate was allowed only with special permission. Cf. Ugo Rozzo, Linee per una storia dell’editoria religiosa in Italia (1465–1600) (Udine: Arti grafiche friulane, 1993), 39–40. 88 Bettarini, Jacopone e il laudario urbinate, 228. 89 It is not an ottava rima, but an eight-line stanza of ballata minore: the last line of each stanza is rhymed with the refrain line. The brackets indicate the rhymes inside the lines.

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‘Amore, Amore’ grida tutto ’l mondo, ‘Amore, Amore’ onne cosa clama. Amore, Amore, tanto si prefondo, chi plu t’abraccia, sempre plu t’abrama! Amor, Amor, tu si cerchio retundo, con tutto cor, chi c’entra, sempre t’ama; ché tu si stam’e trama, chi t’ama per vistire, cun sì dolce sentire che sempre grida ‘Amore’!

Each line is clearly divided into two parts. Even if at first glance the pattern of stresses might be associated with the canonical two types of hendecasyllable verse, either a maiore (a strong stress on the sixth syllable, followed by the consequent ceasura), or a minore (the caesura after the fourth syllable), analyzing the last part of the text (ll. 251–287), we often find the caesura reinforced by the sequence of words with the oxytone accent: i. for lines 259–263 and 267–281 in the shorter hemistich of each hendecasyllable (the fourth syllable stressed: “Amor, Amor(e)”); ii. for lines 251–255 and 283–287 in the longer hemistich of each hendecasyllable (the sixth syllable stressed: “Amor, Amor-Iesù”). In the second case, we find a seven-syllable verse with an iambic opening embedded in the regular hendecasyllable.90 Now, this shorter verse belongs to the oldest tradition of Italian versification.91 As for the nature of the apostrophe, it could be interpreted through its phatic function, but the mystical obsession of the addresser does not find any answer. 90 An original dependence on an iambic scheme is outlined by Menichetti, who speaks about a latent model for the hendecasyllable. Cf. Aldo Menichetti, Metrica italiana: fondamenti metrici, prosodia, rima (Padova: Antenore, 1993), 393. For this ideal model Menichetti indicates the need for stresses on all the even syllables, especially on the fourth, sixth, eighth, and tenth. From our point of view, the metrical part affected by litanic influence is the second and fourth (sometimes also sixth) syllable. In the general study of the types of hendecasyllable, the first stress (on the first or second syllable) can be considered as a detail. For us it is relevant for the mystical-litanic verse of Jacopone da Todi and the anonymous poets from Urbino, who are here discussed. See also my “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena.” 91 It is known that the hendecasyllable is divisible into seven- and four-syllable units (or the opposite), but the mentioned words with the oxytone accents may also be evidence of a real, acoustic proximity of the Provençal model. Following Francesco De Rosa and Giuseppe Sangirardi, Introduzione alla metrica italiana (Florence: Sansoni, 1996), 164, we remember that the Provençal décasyllabe manifests a strong tendency to have the accent on the fourth or sixth syllable, together with the consequent caesura.

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Moreover, in the syntactic shape the imperative mode prevails—a phenomenon that we consider to be litanic also presents an interesting rhetorical aspect because of its supplicatory nature. Within the repetitive laudation, an attempt to define the divine addressee is launched. But how is one to describe an addressee which has all possible attributes, and at the same time is an example of perfect transcendence? The addresser of the lauda repeats the name, and uses pleonasms and biblical calques.92 The part based on the apostrophes is actually an obsessive monologue, an attempt to define “Love-Jesus.” In such a situation, the apparently communicative function of the text encounters a severe semantic limitation consisting in the insurmountable difficulty of describing God. While the first part of Lauda 89 explores the symptoms of the mystical loving, the litany dominating in the second part focuses on ecstasy and the desire for complete abandonment to Love. Expressions of laceration and death, of dissociating one’s own being and dismembering one’s body, are included in the litanic repetitions. These desires are opposed to the mystical unity to which Christ is exhorted.

4.3  Shorter Verses Let us return briefly to the seven-syllable verse in Jacopone’s poetry. In Lauda 3993 the dialogue with love poetry is kept up, even if its intensity is less. The lyrical form is shorter and it could be associated with the zéjel. The invocation “Amor” or “O amor” (“Love,” “Oh Love”) appears as either anaphora, at the beginning of the quatrains, or a part of enumerations. The stanzas with the invocation only in the opening alternate with those in which each line contains an invocation—in such a case we deal with a syntactical construction without predicate. Let us quote lines 15–26: Amor, et und’entrasti, che ssì occulto passasti? Nullo signo mustrasti dónne tu fuss’entrato. O Amore amabele, Amore delettabele,

92 An example of pleonasm: “tu si cerchio retundo”, Jacopone da Todi, Lauda 89, line 263. We find a biblical calque, “Amor, c’ài nome ‘Amo’,” in Lauda 79 (l. 16). Cf. Jacopone da Todi, Laude, 167–9. The latter is a lauda in seven-syllable with the rhyme pattern based on the form of zéjel. The apostrophes present anapestic and iambic patterns. 93 Ibid., Laude, 78–80.

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Amore encogetabele sopr’onne cogitato! Amor, devino foco, Amor de riso e ioco, Amor, non dài a ppoco, cà è’ ricco esmesurato.

The litanic qualities are manifested by laudatory, humbled chairetisms, or invocations to “Love-Jesus,” and are derived from rich epithets and periphrases. Moreover, the general nature of the lauda is ektenial.94 The litanic enumerations form modules composed of epithets or double epithets, which should be interpreted as attributes of the addressee. Such modules are close to the litany, but Lauda 39 also presents an interesting rhythmic pattern. As we are dealing with approximate syllabic versification—the anaphora is chanted as the lauda is a lyrical-musical genre—the reverberating of “Amore” helps to stabilize the metrical scheme. The stress which falls on the second and sixth syllable presents an iambic pattern, which makes the measure of the lines more individualized, the more so that the fourth-syllable stress is not always realized. It should be emphasized that the observed scheme concerns the opening of the lines. In this period two canonical Italian verses emerge, namely the seven-syllable and the hendecasyllable. Nevertheless, in the early stage, only the former accepts the iambic pattern in the opening. In the fourteenth century it will also concern the hendecasyllable, namely its mystical type, but its impact on longer verse will be different.95 Coming back to Lauda 39 we find also a second pattern, i.e. lines in which the first stress shifts to the third syllable. It is a variation of the pattern which points out a passage between the different parts of the lauda. In fact, the rhyme pattern of the zéjel ballad helps us to recognize not only the borders of the verse, but also the changes of the rhythmic pattern, as occurs in lines 15–19 and 20–26. Thirdly, we also have purely enumerative parts, in which the regular stress of the anaphora (“Amore”) could have supported the collective recitation—this is also a litanic way to fix the rules for the collective performance. One more time, the invocation, together with a sequence of attributes, defines the receiver of the mystical longing.

94 Cf. Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 33. 95 I have discussed the appropriateness of distinguishing a “mystical” type of verse within the two Italian canonical measures in my “Lauda e litania,” XXVIII International Conference of the Societé de Linguistique Romane Linguistica e filologia romanza di fronte al canone, Rome, July 18–23, 2016.

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The expression “Amore” is a mark which builds up the litanic qualities of Jacopone’s poetics. The locution, which initially referred to a woman, is first desemantisized. Then it is moved from the profane to the sacred field, and finally we find it re-semantisized in the context of the mystical and Christological (i.e. non-corporal, religious, and male-gendered) discourse. This re-semantization could be related to the need to distinguish the religious context from the secular, in which the eulogical discourse would gradually be replaced by an individual perspective, according to which the addressee of the praise has a name, such as Beatrice or Laura.

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5  Laudario di Santa Croce di Urbino: Rhythmical-Metrical Formulas Laudario di Santa Croce di Urbino is the name of a codex related to the church of the Holy Cross in Urbino, and to the confraternity which used the collection of prayers during its meetings. The existence of the congregation is attested by other documents from the fourteenth century. The book, which contains a number of laudas, was probably written in the mid-fourteenth century.96 The copyist could have worked from various sources, as for example, an earlier codification of the oral tradition: the poems included in the laudario preserve important features of some central-Italy vernaculars.97 Although the book is materially younger than Laudario di Cortona, the laudas are valuable for they maintain some archaic, phonetic forms associated with central Italy, where early Italian poetry is considered to have been born. From our point of view, they could preserve also a history of the genre, that is, traces or a substratum of some litanic qualities which existed in the earliest stage of the vernacular literature. The codex includes more than 80 anonymous texts. Among them we find laudas of Jacopone da Todi (without mentioning the author’s name), and 59 poems that can be attributed to an unknown follower (or followers) of his lyrical style. The collection from Urbino is an evidence of a literary trend called “Jacoponic school,”98 which is a hypothesis. The poets of this tendency should have cultivated a high degree of artistic awareness and the stylistic legacy of Jacopone da Todi.99 Several characteristics of the laudas from Urbino are also present in Jacopone’s and earlier verse and they were analyzed in the previous part of this chapter. Thus, let us concentrate on the features that renew the genre of lauda from both formal and semantic points of view. In the following part, we will also stress the problems related to the oral nature of the performance of lauda during the Middle Ages.

96 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 7. At the beginning of the twentieth century the laudario was considered an early-fourteenth century document. Its origin is Umbrian, a fact which brings in Jacopone’s footsteps. 97 From the point of view of diachronic linguistics, the manuscript preserves some archaic Umbrian forms that are related to the area of literary and monastic activity of Jacopone da Todi. Cf. Bettarini. 98 Ibid., 8. 99 Ibid., 231.

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As in the codex of Urbino the laudas dedicated to the Virgin are most numerous, the common assumption is that she could be the patron saint of the confraternity. We find in the book the following literary genres: planctus, with the first-person singular100 subject; dialogue of the Mother with her crucified Son; and laudatory poems. Let us open our examination with a planctus, which is provided with a paratextual indication, “De planctu Virginis.” The lauda contains twenty-three fourline stanzas, and six of them constitute a litany within the poem. It is composed on two anaphoric sequences. In lines 1–16 the first repetitive component is based on a three-person (singular and plural) imperative “planga/plangan” ([he/she/ they] “cry”), while the second is built on the statement “mort’è” ([He] “is death”). The first formula is followed by a list of earthly creatures and heavenly entities, living and inanimate natural elements, and even good and evil, which are called to mourn together. The second repetitive element brings antonomastic definitions of the Crucified, which is represented as light, splendor, beauty, sweetness, etc. We note that the verse is symmetric and divided into two five-syllable parts. The litanic element helps to emphasize this gait in a special way when the second anaphora replaces the first. In the stanzas that follow, the concentration of the second formula decreases gradually. Let us read a few lines (ll. 13–20):101 P l a n g a   lo bene, p l a n g a   la gente m o r t ’   è lo rege e·nno de morte

p l a n g a   lo male, tucta ad uguale: celestïale, sua naturale.

M o r t ’   è lo lume m o r t ’   è la manna d’ambra e·mmoscato de neve e·rrose

e lo splendore, del gran dulçore, m o r t ’   è ·ll’odore, m o r t ’   è el colore.

In the first quoted quatrain we find two anaphoric orders. While the first runs out, a new sequence appears to be then repeated four times in the second quatrain. In the remaining part of the planctus the arrangement of the second anaphora is not so symmetrical within the stanzas, but the metrical positions remain the same. We conclude that the first part of the poem can be defined as a mourning litany.

100 Also in this type of poem we can find traces of a simple litanic verse. Cf., e.g., ibid. 493 (ll. 1–4, 9–12). In another lauda, the litanic anaphora seems to be almost a mnemonic insert: « Fillo, bel portamento, / fillo, tuo [’n]segnamento, / fillo, tuo parlamento, / fillo, ke⋅mm’ ài privato! », Ibid., 537 (ll. 48–51). 101 Ibid., 493–5.

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Starting from line 25 the type of discourse changes, and repetition is avoided. Thus, from the rhetorical and thematic point of view, our ninety-two-line poem is divided into two parts. Paradoxically, in an unexpected way in line 37 the subject announces the beginning of a lament, and the reader discovers that is the Virgin who is speaking.102 Another poem, Lauda xiii [23], entitled “Alta regina, Sancta Maria,” (“High queen, Saint Mary”)103 is an interesting example of a concealed litany, in which the invocations open each quatrain. The remaining stanzas constitute a commentary on these invocatory formulas. Let us quote two passages of this lauda (ll. 1–6; 31–34): Alta regina, sancta Maria, a·tte aracommando l’anema mia. Alta regina, dolçe Madonna, lo mio peccato tanto m’abunda, k’ io te pregara cun molta vergogna s’ io non sapesse la tua cortesia. […] Alta regina stella de mare, poi ke lo mondo m’ài facto lassare, tu me dà’ gratia de perseverare nell’ordene mio tuctavia.

Let us also cite a list of the litanic apostrophes that begin the quatrains from the second part of the poem (ll. 55; 59; 63; 67; 71; 75; 79; 83; 87): Alta regina aulente rosa, […] Alta regina nostra sperança, […] Alta regina nostra forteça, […] Alta regina de pïetate, […] Alta regina amor sovrano, […] Alta regina sempreternale, […] Alta regina dei peccaturi, […] Alta regina, tu si’ nostra rocka, […] Alta regina vergene pura, […]

The invocations “Alta regina” open all the stanzas which are conformed to the zéjel form. In some cases litanic element is limited to this call, while in others the invocation, accompanied by an attribute, realizes the litanic model in a broader way. The phrases that follow “Alta regina” derive from the devotio populi, Latin 102 “Encomençare vollo lo planto,” ibid., 494, l. 37. 103 Ibid., 567. The double numeration of texts was introduced by Bettarini.

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hymns, and Marian antonomasias developed in the litanies, as for example “fortezza” and “rocca,” which are in use in the Italian translations of the Akathist Hymn.104

5.1  De Dulcedine Amoris Christi In other Marian laudas the litanic potential is not greatly exploited, as it occurs in a sequence of poems which in the manuscript are identified through a para-textual indication, De Dulcedine Amoris Christi. À propos of this cycle, Rosanna Bettarini asserts that the codex of Urbino abounds in variations on an “easily imitable topic of ‘Love’ ”.105 We should recognize that it became a lexicalconceptual nucleus associated with the representation of the sweetness of loving Christ. This is the meaning assumed by the anaphora in seven mystical laudas which were put together by the copyist. We suppose that the scribe considered the poems of this group to be a textual class. Let us consider the opening stanza of Lauda xvii [28]106 (ll. 1–4): O Amor pretïoso, o Amor delectoso, o Amor saporoso, dàmmecTe ad assaiare!

The invocations are present in the choral refrain of the lauda composed in the form of zéjel.107 Now, Bettarini’s thesis about the imitation of Jacopone’s poetics is interesting, but it does not reflect the innovative nature of the poetry of the “school.” In the quoted refrain a synesthetic exploration of the model is constructed as two topics interlacing, i.e. taste and mystical love. The litanic enumerations have a potential that helps to draw out new semantic values. The pattern of repetition (both rhetorical and syntactic) is derived from Jacopone da Todi. As we will see, the most popular way of elaborating on it within our laudario was to reinforce the memory of the formulas. Lauda xviii [29] entitled “DàmmecTe a.ssentire” (“Let me relish you”)108 is built up on interrogative sentences, which are superimposed on the litanic structure. When the perception of Mystical 104 Here the modern spelling. Cf. L’inno acatisto in onore della Madre di Dio, ed. and trans. Carlo Del Grande (Florence: Fussi, 1948). 105 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 576. 106 Ibid., 576. 107 Cf. Jacopone da Todi, Laude: “Amore gratïoso / Amore delettoso / Amore suavetoso / ch’el core ài sazïato!”, Lauda 39, 78–80 (ll. 55–59). 108 Cf. Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 578–80.

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Betrothal, or “Love-Jesus,” vanishes, the Soul tries to join him by invocations and insistent asking,109 which seems to concern the recitation; thus it could be derived from the performative aspect of the poem.110 It is worth remembering that the lauda was not intended to be read in private, but to be performed collectively. The recitation of poetry during the Middle Ages required an integration of the persons of author and speaker(s). All these elements, and also the influence of the thirteenth-century mystical tradition, affected the current situation of the performing people. The production of meaning111 took place on the condition that all these requirements were met. Although the type of subject inherited from Jacopone presents a strongly marked speaking, “I,” this person constructs its interlocutor over the course of the text, bringing him closer through a rhetoric of insistence. This increases tension and expressiveness.112 Hence, we may conclude that in the performance the persons—who were rooted in the folk origins of the lauda—derive their personal pronouns (as considered in the category of deixis) from the textual and functional division of roles. According to Silvia Iglesias Recuero, who analyzes the importance of the deixis in medieval poetry: [la poésie traditionelle] devra réussir à faire que le chanteur se confonde avec ce qu’il chante, pour entrer dans le processus de recréation et de répétition qui est sa façon littéraire de vivre. […] Nous sommes habitués à lire les textes poétiques, car notre culture est dominée par l’écriture. […] Mais il faut prendre en considération le fait que

109 Two-thirds of the syntactic units of the second and third stanza are interrogative sentences. Also the sentences of the fourth and fifth stanza are questions, even without question marks. 110 According to Austin’s theory of speech acts: From the point of view of Jakobson’s system, we could consider the phatic function of obsessively demanding something, which is a structural element of the lauda. 111 Cf. Paul Zumthor, “Una cultura della voce,” in Lo spazio letterario del Medioevo, 2. Il Medioevo volgare produzione del testo (I), eds. Piero Boitani, Mario Mancini, and Albero Vàrvaro (Rome: Salerno Editrice, 1999), 135. “Il linguaggio fissato dal manoscritto resta così, potenzialmente, quello della comunicazione diretta. Lo scritto, salvo eccezioni, si costituisce per contagio corporale a partire dalla voce […].”. Ibid., 137. 112 Cf. Silvia Iglesias Recuero, “Quelques remarques sur la deixis personnelle dans les «villancicos»,” in Le passage à l’écrit des langues romanes, 267–8. Iglesias Recuero is analyzing love poetry, especially the love villancicos, but the mystical lauda uses a similar semantics and division of roles. There exist other analyses of mystical literature that employ linguistic-communication tools: the researchers point out that the addresser of discourse is not only passively present in texts. Cf. Giovanni Pozzi, “Lalfabeto delle sante,” 21–42.

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la société médiévale populaire où vivait cette tradition lyrique, disposait d’un moyen puissant: la voix humaine.113

Let us now return to Lauda xviii [29] (ll. 14–22):114 Amore, que·tTe fai, ke·ccusì me Te tolli quando Te creio avere? Amore, ove·nne vai? ke·nné in plano né in colli non Te poço vedere? Amore, se·nnon T’aio Amor, ka la To spene me giva confortando.

iamai non sento bene,

If we consider Iglesias Recuero’s assumption, such a hectic manner of speaking would be applied in order to emphasize certain behaviors of the addressee rather than in order to get answers or information.115 Although in terms of metrics we are dealing with a prevalent seven-syllable verse, we should interpret the quoted lines as a sequence of metrical-syntactic segments rhythmically constructed on the anaphora “Amor/e.” In the entire poem, the anaphora is placed in the same position within the stanzas: we find the invocation to Love in the first, fourth, seventh (the double seven-syllable line), and eighth lines. Due to the presence of the conjunctions that introduce many lines, the pattern of stresses has a crucial place for the perception of the limits of both the lines and the stanzaic units. At the end of the poem the laudatory anaphora to “Love” is intensified. The direct adoration is only possible after finding Christ, the Mystical Betrothal. This final part of the poem prepares the medieval user (and the contemporary reader) for the enumerative Lauda xix [30], in which the sensual connotations of the Mystical Betrothal are taken up,116 and Lauda xx [31],117 which closes the sequence. Let us read an excerpt (ll. 1–5, 21–25, and 31–35): 113 Cf. Iglesias Recuero, “Quelques remarques,” 264. 114 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 578–80. 115 Ibid., 270. 116 We emphasize the presence of this element also in “De planctu Virginis,” which we examined in the first part of the present chapter, even if the lament is not a mystical poem, and its receiver is concrete. Coming to Lauda xix [30] the litanic anaphora appears in the opening of the lines and within them. This irregularity, together with the zéjel form provided with a two-line refrain, may argue the ancient character of the poem. 117 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 581–2.

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Amor, la mia sperança, Amor, mia deletcança, Amor, la mia baldança, Amor, la remembrança de Te me fa allegrare. […] Amore, gillo d’orto, Amor, lo mio conforto, Amor, vita e deporto, Amor, Tu sirai morto pro la gente salvare. […] Amore, l’aneme storte, Amor, sirò risorte, Amor, de pena forte: Amor, kke·dura morte Ke vinisti a·ddurare!

The scheme is: aaaax bbbbx, etc. The archaic, litanic lauda118 is here enriched with an additional line implanted in the pattern of the stanzas. It creates a connection between all the units, as it occurs in the zéjel form—this effect is achieved by adding a last line which rhymes across the whole poem. In this way our lauda presents a kind of one-line refrain, which is shorter than the typical one.119 The text is written in seven-syllable lines, with a characteristic stress on the second syllable of each line, which recalls the mystical poetics of Jacopone da Todi. The lines, in which also the fourth syllable is stressed, are few. As we recall, this was a characteristic feature of the mystical verse of Jacopone da Todi. The impossibility of dating the poems exactly leads us to advance a hypothesis based on their formal traits, which seem much older than the date of compilation of the codex from Urbino. Once again, we insist on the fact that the litany was widespread among the confraternities starting from the thirteenth century, and it could have strongly influenced the creation of the early vernacular hymns of praise.

118 As has been said earlier, some scholars assume that the early lauda could have also been a form of litany. What would have been the pattern of rhymes in such a case? Could we have monorhymed units? Perhaps the scheme of rhymes of Rayna possentissima answers these questions to some degree. This hypothesis is illustrated for example in Dorothea Kullmann, “Early Italian poetry and the language of the ‘laude’,” in The Church and the languages of Italy before the Council of Trent, ed. Franco Pierno (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 2015), 189–92. 119 We mean a refrain typical of the Castilian ballad.

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In other texts we encounter repetitive modules that can be the basis for further variations, as occurs in “Lamentome e ssospiro,” (“I lament and pine”)120 in which a syntactic formula is created, as follows: “de Te” + infinitive form + invocation to the “Love” + a module with a verbal noun. Let us quote few lines (ll. 23–26): De Te pensare, Amore, de Te odire, Amore, de Te parlare, Amore de Te, dolçe mia vita,

m’è gran confortamento, m’è grande ammastramento, m’è gran delectamento, non me po’ satïare.

Thanks to the invocation to “Love,” which is set inside the phrases, a new metrical position for the repetitive emphasis, linked to the mystical formula, is here exploited. In other laudas from the collection under discussion, the addresser is not a universal “I” anymore—he is represented explicitly, as a human subject, for example, a faithful Christian repenting his sins and calling upon “Love-Jesus” (Lauda xxxv [54] “Amor, Ihesù Cristo, Amore  / a tTe m’accomando, Amore,” “Love, Jesus Christ, Love / I entrust in you, Love”), or the Virgin, while she is talking with the Crucified. In the lauda which is here quoted, the invocation “Amor/e” has a delimitating function. Since it closes the stanzas as epiphora, it should not be taken into account when counting the syllables of the lines. It is a raison d’être of the litanic formula “pray for us,” whose importance is to indicate the syntagmatic limits of the metrical units. This poem might be considered as a meeting point between syllabic meter and the litanic system, as is described by Witold Sadowski.121 Let us cite the opening lines of another lament entitled, “De Planctu Virginis” (ll. 1–2):122 Amor, Ihesù Cristo, Amore, Perké·mm’ài lassata, — A m o r e?

The same opening module is a heart of Lauda 18 “Amor, diletto Amore, perché m’ai lassato, Amore?” (“Love, beloved Love, why did you leave me, Love?”) of Jacopone da Todi, which presents a repetitive pattern inspired by the Provençal literature. The formal requirement of cobla capfinida is merged with a scheme of rhymes typical of the zéjel. We encounter here a dialogue-exemplum written in 120 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 200–4. 121 Cf. Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 123–33. In the versification that we are analyzing the insert does not change the metrical system. 122 Bettarini, Jacopone e il Laudario Urbinate, 151–2.

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Italian alexandrines.123 “De Planctu Virginis” is also based on the approximate syllabic verse composed with reference to the rhythmic memory of the iambic onsets of seven-syllables introduced by Jacopone. In the fourteenth century, this rhythmed invocation gained immense popularity and wide use, which led to its devaluation at the end of the Middle Ages.124 The author or authors of the Laudario di Santa Croce di Urbino focused mainly on the rhetorical potential of Jacopone’s mystical invocations to “Love-Jesus” which they formally elaborated on. The mystical ecstasy was explored also in its lyrical potential. With reference to this, the hypothesis of non-innovative elaboration of Jacopone’s poetics does not explain some of the results that his follower(s) achieved. Then, Bettarini in her thesis about the “easily imitable topic of ‘Love’ ”125 does not consider the deep penetration of some litanic structures, which in our perspective proves the further evolution of the genre of lauda. The poems included in the laudario had been selected for a specific purpose, namely the prayer of the Urbino confraternity, but it seems clear that at the turn of the fourteenth century the popularity of the litany allowed bold poetic experiments. Even if the codices collected for the confraternities included a final section composed of litanies,126 in the mentioned codex we encounter new genres originated from a commixtio, which led to interesting formal retro-contaminations, since the characteristics of the host genre (zéjel, the ballad adapted by the lauda) must have been upgraded, a fact that changed the genre of lauda itself.

5.2  The Possibility of a Phrasal Versification in the Early Lauda One of the most important fourteenth-century sources of laudas is a codex signed as ms. Magliabechiano II.I.212, which is preserved in the Florentine National Library. It contains, for example, some laudas by Jacopone da Todi. We know that in a lost part of this collection various texts which we also find in the 123 The Italian alexandrine is a fourteen-syllable verse with a strong caesura that divides each line into two paroxytonic hemistichs. It was created in the thirteenth century by adding one syllable to each hemistich of the French alexandrine, which is oxytonic. Cf. De Rosa, Sangirardi, Introduzione alla metrica italiana, 140–1. 124 In the second half of the fourteenth century the same anaphora became an important element of the poetics of Bianco da Siena. At the beginning of the fifteenth century it appears deprived of its mystical mark. It is transformed into a prayer-invocation, for example, in the poetry by Ugo Panziera. 125 Cf. footnote 105. 126 Cf. Aranci, Il laudario fiorentino. This laudario includes two Litanies of the Saints. The texts present slight differences.

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Laudario di Cortona were present. It includes, finally, a laudario of the Florentine confraternity of Santa Maria delle Laude at the church of Sant’Egidio. Some of the poems are composed mostly in octosyllable, while others represent more complex schemes.127 Let us analyze an example of contamination involving the blessing form. Just like Laudes creaturarum and other poems of that time, “Lauda de la Vergine Maria” (Lauda 42, “Lauda to the Virgin Mary”)128 is directly inspired by the Gospels. In the poem a laudatory blessing is associated with an invocation, which is repeated every two lines. Both formulas are Marian chairetisms (lines 1–4; 25–28; 53–56):129 Benedecta sie tu, madre di Dio vivente, o glorïosa Donna, che portasti lo preçço della gente, o glorïosa Donna. […] Benedecta sie tu, che portasti lo thesauro, o glorïosa Donna, onde si ricomperò l’omo ch’era im bando, o glorïosa Donna. […] Benedecto sïa lo lacte tuo dolcissimo, o glorïosa Donna, onde lactasti lo nostro amore dulcissimo, o glorïosa Donna.

Apart from the anaphoras, the litanic nature of the lauda is determined by the invocation placed in the middle and at the end of each stanza. We suppose that the latter could be a refrain—it might have been performed collectively—and we consider it to be a responsorial fragment. The repeated chairetism implies a short pause between the phrases, which introduces alternately a blessing

127 In the Italian tradition, complex verse can be the hendecasyllable or a longer-lined verse (with some exceptions). It presents a strong caesura that divides it into two equal or unequal parts, which manifest patterns familiar from shorter-lined verses. 128 Del Popolo, Il laudario della compagnia di San Gilio, 264–6. 129 For the invocation “benedicta” as Marian chairetism. Cf. Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 53. About the archaic character of this lauda in relation to some litanic characteristics, cf. my paper “Legami litanici in alcune laude mariane,” in Forme letterarie del Medioevo romanzo: testo, interpretazione e storia, eds. Antonio Pioletti and Stefano Rapisarda (Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino, 2016), 255–69.

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formula, a seven-syllable antonomasia,130 or a longer line that oscillates between the hendecasyllable and the double seven-syllable. Additionally, the long lines introduced with a relative pronoun (with two exceptions throughout the entire lauda), and having the predicate in the active voice, realize the narrative function of the litanic lines.131 This is a subordinate sentence, which consists of two to four phrases. The topic of seven of the fifteen stanzas is the Virgin awaiting the birth of Christ. Although Marian antonomasias and narrative segments that bring new information into the stanzas are combined in one sentence, the semantic link between them is rather weak as the former could be interchanged within the stanzas without much influence on the meaning. Let us call them “movable expressions” and add that they are syntactically dependent on the chairetisims. Witold Sadowski, with reference to Polish poetry, speaks about a phrasalaccentual verse in the litany—to simplify, the groups of words that have a certain accentual scheme become units of meter. This vision cannot be accepted in the Italian system, because of its syllabic nature which dominated from the earliest stages.132 Perhaps Sadowski’s idea might be readapted in order to take into account shorter patterns of stresses inside the regular syllabic lines, as occurs in Rayna possentissima, or in the iambic onsets of Jacoponic seven-syllables. We acknowledge the possibility of considering these inserts as a litanic reminiscence, when the verse contains some phrasal-accentual patterns which are employed locally. If the analyzed lauda preserves some archaic features, its litanic nature is determined by various aspects—the repetitive formulas, the antonomasias, a litanic narration developed in a certain metrical positions, a responsorial character. To use Sadowski’s category of litanic verse with reference to a poem written in syllabic verse, let us conclude that due to the arrangement of the text, we consider this lauda to be an original litany consisting of segments of 3 (ll.1–2) + 2 (ll .3–4) 130 We still are dealing here with approximate syllable verse, so the measures are not exact. 131 The litany is also a technique of telling events connecting the elements, for example, through the anaphoric structure of a text (Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 75). 132 Cf. Ibid., 123–33. In the Italian traditional versification the syllabic system prevails from the earliest stage. But we would like to argue that in syllabic verse the phrasal versification encourages what we could call a “syllabic punctuality.” In the invocation, “o glorïosa Donna” the number of linguistic syllables does not change. It is only the metrical count that can be increased thanks to the diaeresis (it allows one to add a syllable imposing a hiatus instead of a natural linguistic diphthong). As in the analyzed poem, the invocation functions as the litanic formula, and a certain importance is attached to its measure and so an effect of regularization of the verse is achieved. The longer lines in the analyzed lauda present a variable number of syllables.

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units,133 with a longer pause at the end of each five-unit segment. The inaccuracies in the versification might come from the copyist, but might also codify a poetry subordinated to the performance. This interpretation points out the mnemonic function of the phrasal system in the time when laudantes, the members of the confraternities, had to learn by heart entire repertories of poems-prayers in order to gain popular recognition. We are convinced that the practice of collective recitation is to be linked with the phrasal nature of the versification manifested in the text analyzed above. Although the longer lines of this lauda do not manifest a unique pattern, the presence of the subordinate conjunctions close to the verbs gives the listener (or the user) a frame within which he can place portions of text that he calls to mind gradually during the recitation. Since the main characteristic of Italian versification starting from an early stage is syllabic verse, the interphrasal pause seems to be an additional benefit for this system.

133 The units that we have discussed in this lauda have a phrasal-metrical character. See, for example, The Litany of Loreto, characterized by two-module invocations, and The Litany of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which is composed of three-module calls. The text: Domenico Svampa, Le Litanie del Sacro Cuore di Gesù. Studio storico e teologico. Considerazioni divote (Milan: Romolo Ghirlanda, 1913).

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6 The Condemned and the Saints in the Laudario di Santa Maria della Morte “[S]ecret sins require secret penance, public sins require public penance,”134 says an anonymous treatise from the twelfth century entitled De vera et falso poenitentia. Starting from such an idea we will illustrate the specificity of a Bolognese laudario from the fourteenth to the fifteenth century. The codex belonged to the confraternity of confortatori, or lay brothers who attended the prisons of Bologna, bringing religious comfort to those who had been sentenced to death.135 Thus, the topic of the entire laudario is the good death—in a larger context the fifteenth century is an epoch of great interest in the ars moriendi.136 The confraternity also was also responsible for the preparation rite, which was performed the night before the public execution. The ritual involved a single brother and the condemned prisoner. It consisted of prayer, singing, and sermons which were intended to convince the prisoner to die according to the precepts of the Church. Let us observe that other cities of the Apennine Peninsula, such as Florence, Milan, and Genoa, had their own prison (or justice) confraternities. The Bologna laudario is preserved together with a rich and well-documented handbook of 134 Jacques Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 214–5. 135 Capital punishment could be imposed for political and religious crimes, and for murder (the vendetta homicide was excluded), but from the end of the thirteenth century also for robbery, extortion, arson, counterfeiting, sodomy with rape, and abduction. On rare occasions, judges sentenced people to death also for corruption, adultery, and falsification of public documents. Sometimes the punishment included public mutilation before or instead of execution. Cf. Andrea Zorzi, “La pena di morte in Italia nel Tardo Medioevo,” Clio&Crimen 4(2007): 47–62; Donata Mancini, “Giustizia in piazza. Appunti sulle esecuzioni capitali in Piazza Maggiore a Bologna durante l’età moderna,” Il Carrobbio XI(1985): 143–9. 136 The books of good death were widely disseminated during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. About both the situation in Bologna at the time of foundation of the confraternity and the possible influence of the books of good death on its cultural promoters, see Mario Fanti, “La confraternita di Santa Maria della Morte,” Quaderni del Centro di Ricerca e di Studio sul Movimento dei Disciplinati, 20(1978): 13–4. For the spreading of the topic in the arts. Cf. Humana fragilitas. I temi della morte in Europa tra Duecento e Settecento, ed. Alberto Tenenti (Clusone: Ferrari Editrice, 2000), 9–24. The good death was one of the topics of literary and visual arts related to the macabre. It was a “European phenomenon” as Alberto Tenenti argues.

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religious comfort which is a good example of a widespread phenomenon. The laudas of our confraternity present a high degree of litanic qualities, and some of them are litanies in poetical disguise.137 The laudas and litanies were sung, probably by those members of the confraternity who had received vocal training, during the town processions that accompanied the condemned to the scaffold. As Alfredo Troiano notes, this was meant to have an incantatory or therapeutic effect on the condemned,138 while he or she was being conveyed to the place of execution, which was the town market square.139 Let us briefly trace the story of Bologna brotherhood: Istituita a Bologna il 13 luglio del 1336, in conseguenza del moto penitenziale promosso dal domenicano Venturino da Bergamo, la Compagnia svolse, sino a tutto il XVIII secolo, un ruolo importante nella città di Bologna, sul piano religioso e civile: fondazione e gestione dell’ospedale che fu detto appunto di S. Maria della Morte; esercizio della conforteria dei condannati a morte e dell’assistenza ai carcerati, organizzazione e direzione delle annuali processioni cittadine con l’immagine della Madonna di San Luca.140

Troiano notes that in Bologna, starting from the fourteenth century, every sentenced prisoner had the right to be prepared for a Christian death. The members of the confraternity of Santa Maria della Morte attended the prisoner the night before his execution and during his last morning walk to the gallows. They also took care of his body after death.

137 Sung formulas in which the martyrs were called upon are present in the medieval liturgy of the Italian Peninsula. Cf. Giampaolo Ropa, “La morte nella liturgia medieval. Formulari di canto dell’ambiente italiano,” in Aa. Vv., Di fronte all’aldilà (Bologna: Giorgio Barghigiani Editore, 2004), 83–7. The author relates those formulas with a Depcrecatio Gelasii, one of the early forms of the litany included in the medieval liturgy in the Apennine Peninsula. In the thirteenth century, the hymn Dies Irae was written in the milueu of Joachim of Fiore—it was popularized by the Franciscans and soon became part of the funeral rites, at least in the region of Bologna. Ibid., 89. 138 Alfredo Troiano, Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte di Bologna. Il ms. 1069 della Yale Beinecke Library (Pisa: Edizioni della Normale, 2010), 25. 139 Let us add that confraternity statutes from Ferrara reminds us that praises and traditional litanies should be performed during the procession that accompanied the condemned. Cf. Adriano Prosperi, “Mediatori di emozioni. La compagnia ferrarese di giustizia e l’uso delle immagini,” in L’impresa di Alfonso II. Saggi e documenti sulla produzione artistica a Ferrara nel secondo Cinquecento, eds. Jadranka Bentini and Luigi Spezzaferro (Bologna: Nuova Alfa Editoriale, 1987), 279–92. 140 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 1.

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La preparazione di un condannato—in una sola notte—a una morte cristiana richiedeva una sufficiente cultura teologica oltre che una capacità di penetrazione psicologica.141

Many scholars argue that the laudas contributed to the prisoner’s achieving spiritual comfort before the execution. The confraternity also guaranteed a Christian burial to those who repented and passed through the ritual, which consisted in confession, prayer, and indoctrination. The redemption of their soul was promised after death. In the confraternal culture, the plenary indulgence called in articulo mortis was related to a popular story about Catherine of Siena: the saint converted two men who had been sentenced to death. Through her intercession, the two prisoners entered directly into paradise without suffering purgatorial pains.142 Gioia Filocamo links the success of the confraternal culture with changes in the way of imaging the afterlife, changes which took place in late medieval Europe. A new idea of judgment arose, according to which “every individual life”143 would be judged righteous or wicked upon death. The reward (i.e. paradise) and the punishment were to be immediate. Starting from the twelfth century the idea of purgatory was developed. As Filocamo writes, “its complete affirmation would still require a couple of centuries more,”144 but eventually this led to a new representation of the afterlife—and redemption from sins—as something that could be managed by living people.145 The last stage of popularization of the new “maps of both this world and the other”146 coincided with the activity of the Bologna brotherhood. Filocamo argues: Purgatory then becomes envisaged as a place where earthly life can be extended, and where the same “commercial” rules are in operation, including the indispensable presence of a mediator: the confessor. […] The image of death becomes an integral part of daily life.

141 Ibid., 2. 142 “[G]razie all’intercessione di Caterina—passarono rapidamente dai tormenti terreni alla gloria del Paradiso e dalla condizione di delinquenti esecrati a quella di spiriti beati.” Cf. Adriano Prosperi, Dare l’anima. Storia di un infanticidio (Turin: Einaudi, 2005), 332–3. We should remember that starting from late antiquity the martyrs were considered to ascend to Heaven immediately after death, as is explained in the works of Tertullian, Cyprian, and Augustine. Cf. Roberta Budriesi, “Dall’antichità al medioevo: i martiri e il loro culto,” in Aa. Vv., Di fronte all’aldilà, 49. 143 Gioia Filocamo, “Death-Spectacles in Quattrocento Life and Laude,” Journal of Early Modern Christianity 2, 1(2015): 19–20. 144 Ibid.: 20. 145 Ibid.: 23–4. 146 Ibid.: 4.

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Savonarola exhorts the faithful to use death-spectacles to evaluate everything in life, using the memento mori filter and not being distracted by vain thoughts. In this way, it is possible to explain the popularity of macabre subjects in iconography developed since the Trecento; […].147

These two aspects—“gain afterlife credits while still living”148 and, we would say, commune with death—“in a time when physical living and death were not perceived as irreconcilable enemies”149—are the main ingredients of the success of all the movements of justice, to which the Bolognese association belongs. Jacques le Goff, in his The Birth of Purgatory, binds up this idea with the development of prayer: Christian confidence in the efficacy of prayer was not immediately linked to a belief in the possibility of postmortem purification. […] the two beliefs were elaborated separately and had virtually nothing to do with one another. Before the idea of the suffrage or prayer in behalf of the dead could be evolved, solidarity had to be established between the living and the dead: institutions were required to finance intercessory prayer, namely, wills, and to execute it, namely, the confraternities, which took prayer for the dead as one of their daily obligations.150

The roots of the problem are in the older culture of separation of the soul after the death, which had been inaugurated in the Carolingian funeral rites, as Philippe Ariès argues.151 Following the development of prayer for the souls of the dead we come back to Bologna. Before any brotherhood was born, a twelfthcentury monk and jurist named Gratian wrote his Decretum, one of the first medieval collections of canon law, which includes a list of prayers for the souls of the dead, which could be delivered […] by the sacrifices of the priests [masses], by the prayers of the saints, by the alms of dear friends, and by the fasting of relatives.152

Soon the litany underwent a change, especially that Litany of the Saints. The prayer was translated into the vernaculars and became a significant element of confraternal rites. As we will see, later effects of all the trends described here

147 Ibid.: 24. 148 Ibid. 149 Humana fragilitas, 12. 150 Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory, 11–2. 151 Philippe Ariès, “La liturgie ancienne des funérailles,” La maison-Dieu. Revue de pastorale liturgique 144(1980): 49–58. 152 Le Goff, The Birth of Purgatory, 146.

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included a strong individualization of the prayers contained in the laudario that we will analyze in this chapter. The Bolognese laudario is composed of a collection of laudas accompanied by a handbook of religious comfort, il confortatorio, which was compiled in Bologna in the second half of the fifteenth century:153 […] il primo libro era destinato alla preparazione del confortatore e alle argomentazioni da proporre al suo assistito per indurlo a penitenza e ad accostarsi degnamente ai sacramenti; il secondo libro dava istruzioni pratiche sul comportamento da tenere dal momento in cui il confortatore entrava in prigione, per la veglia col condannato, fino al compimento dell’esecuzione il giorno successivo.154

The handbook and the laudario are composed of eleven manuscripts that mostly date from the fifteenth century. Still, we have some older, short nucleolus composed of twenty two laudas155 which could be the model for the successive parts. Although the texts, generally anepigraphic, are unattributed,156 some authors have been identified. The modern edition of the laudario is based on a unique codex held by the library of Yale University. The collection contains a variety of poetic genres, such as paraphrases of popular Latin prayers and short poems, dialogues, two sonnets, and terza rima. As for the topics, although death is the first poetical concern, we can also find praises that could be performed by common sinners who beg for mercy. The voluntary (and Christian) death of the condemned is in these poems associated with the holy martyrs’ sacrifices. Salvation is promised following the words of Jesus to one of the robbers who were crucified with him.157 Below we begin an analysis of the litanic qualities in the Bologna collection.

153 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 3. 154 Ibid. 155 In Troiano’s edition it is marked as Bu3 codex. Cf. ibid., 11. 156 Ibid. 157 Filocamo argues that during the fourteenth century the idea of dying changes. Some writings, such as for example Savonarola’s sermons, say that the judgment of God follows immediately the end of every single life. The medieval concept of waiting for the Last Judgement, at which just men would be separated from sinners, disappears slowly. In this way penitence for individual sins becomes very important, as does the ars bene moriendi. The author links the phenomenon with the success of the idea of purgatory among the Christian laity. Cf. Filocamo, 5, passim.

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6.1  The “Lauda with Litanies” Troiano recognizes the importance of the litanic patterns in the laudas of the confraternity of Santa Maria della Morte. He published several texts glossing them as “lauda con litanie,” (“lauda with litanies”)158 with “enumerazioni litani­ che” (“litanic enumerations”), or even as “lauda litanica” (“litanic lauda”).159 The said types are not theorized, or studied in detail. As a matter of fact, Troiano mostly associates the first type with texts containing invocations to hierarchies of angels, saints, and martyrs. Sometimes the poems are purely enumerative, other times they include short lists of attributes. Let us quote a fragment of Lauda XIV,160 which is a good example of a litanic quality grafted onto a terza rima161 (ll. 76–87): O [tuti] martori de Christo inamorati, per mi pregati quello Dio iocondo; e tu sancto Cristofalo glorioxo. O San[to] Selvestro, papa relucente, o glorïoxo Gregorio divino, per mi pregati el sumo sapïente. O martire fervento sam Martino, per mi pregati con dolze efecto; – e tu beato splendido Agustino.

In the paratext of the codex this lauda presents a genre definition, “Tànie in vulgare,”162 which is a dialect expression meaning “vernacular litanies.” This, together with the absence of attribution, leads us to conjecture a fragmentary, previous existence of the text. The hundred-twenty-six-line poem is a litanysupplication to Christ, Father, the Holy Spirit, the Virgin (“Sancta Maria”163), the angels and the saints.164 Indeed, the same invocative structure is maintained 158 Il laudario di Santa Maria della Morte, for example, Laudas XIV, XV. For some others we have the indication of the “enumerazione litanica,” for example for Laudas XVI, XXIV, and XXXIV. 159 Laudas XXXII and XLIV. 160 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 107–115. 161 The concatenatio rule is in use with few exceptions. 162 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 107. 163 As in the litany from the region of Venice and Aquileia which is linked with the Akathist Hymn. 164 As the method of execution was generally hanging or decapitation, often we find mention of John the Baptist.

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in the entire text—except for lines 22–27, in which the arrangement is slightly different—yet the anaphoric formula “per mi pregati” and “prega per mi” (or “priega/pregha;” it means “pray for me”), is a fixed part of each stanza starting from line 46. It is a variation on the canonical litanic response “prega per noi” (“pray for us”), in which the attention is focused on the individual subject of the prayer. On the one hand, laudas were sung by the members of the confraternity, the confortatori, who performed them during town processions. This was useful to the people, who could identify with the condemned sinner. On the other hand, during the religious ritual of “the-night-before” the laudas were a means through which the prisoner would accept death in a voluntary way.165 We frequently find a series of invocations to the martyrs, for example, those included in the quotation that follows below. To convince the prisoner to die peacefully, the brothers who were assigned to assist him compared the situation to that of first Christians, who had been martyred in Jesus’ name. This context is quite evident in Lauda XV,166 in which Laurence of Rome, Blaise, Christina of Bolsena, and John the Baptist are all invoked (ll. 57–60): O Batista e vui sancti beati, como fusti degolato, non guardati al mio pecato, siati miecho al punto streto.

The general stanzaic pattern is aaab bbbc… and we find both rhymes and, occasionally, assonances. At some points the latter replace the former, as in the last syllable of the first line of the quoted stanza. As the approximate hendecasyllable cannot be reduced to a more regular shape,167 this fact, together with the impossibility of identifying the author, may indicate a popular source which might be older and perhaps oral. Lauda XXXII168 belongs to the most ancient heart of the laudario.169 Troiano describes it as litanic, but from our point of view it seems to be an individual prayer with enumerative sections occupying the second part of the poem (ll. 25–48). It is necessary to highlight both the singular person speaking in this 165 In fact, the handbook explains to the lay brothers—and indirectly to the prisoners— that it didn’t matter whether the verdict of guilty was correct or not, as God knew the truth. In this way all the attention was focused on the manner of dying. 166 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 117–21. 167 Ibid., 117. 168 Ibid., 203–5. 169 The text is conveyed by the Ms 4014 (Bologna University Library). Cf. Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 35.

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ottava rima,170 and the plural addressee, which appears starting from the line 41.171 We observe once more the strong thematic aspect, which is the veneration of martyrs (ll. 25–26; 29–30; 33–34, 37–38): O vergin(e) santo, o Batista gradito, che a gran torto fusti degolato; […] O santo Lorenzio, de Dio servo fiorito, su la gradela fusti sì bruxato: […] O santo Biaxio, martire glorioxo o sancto Iacomo intercixo, benedeto, […] quando fusti taiato sì gravoxo, a membro a membro senza to difetto:

In the quoted passage, Troiano notes the expressionist172 character of the final lines. It characterizes the description of martyrdom in the lauda. Its litanic character is definitely weak and fragmentary. The invocations to saints do not adhere to any regular pattern. They are combined with shorter or longer narrative parts. We can conclude that the polyonymic quality is present in the poem, but it does not influence the formal arrangement: the invocations do not have any metric function typical of the litanic formulas. Moreover, we have no traces of responsorial technique: the relation established between the addresser and the addressee is related to the fourteenth-century flourishing of personal prayer with some remote references to the litanic qualities.

6.2  Idio Soprano The direct character of many poems included in the laudario supports the hypothesis about probable litanic roots of the Bolognese laudas, when it is related to their rhetorical-communicative aspects. Two poems address the Father (God) or Christ. Starting from the second, anonymous poem (Lauda XVII173), we note formal references to ancient metrical forms, such as “anisosillabismo

170 A genre that may be a sign of popular sources of the text. 171 Lines 41–44: “Patriarchi e profeti tuti quanti, / o apostoli de Dio pien(i) de mercede, / o confessuri e martor(i) tuti quanti, / o sante et sancti che siti in le gran sede.” 172 Ibid., 205. 173 Ibid., 129–33.

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giullaresco” (the approximate syllabic verse of Italian jesters),174 which is the approximate verse of the Italian jongleurs. The shape of the stanzas (quatrains xxxx aaax bbbx aaax, prone to further variations) brings us back to the thirteenthfourteenth century, too. In one of the codices containing the poem, it is annotated as “Salutatione al nostro signo Iesò Christo” (“Salutation to our lord, Jesus Christ”)175 so the topic of the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ is underlined. The presence of two formulas, which open and close the quatrains, helps us to recognize a litanic pattern including narrative parts, such as those of the Litany of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.176 Let us read a fragment of the lauda (ll. 17–24): S a l v e,  I e s ù,  con lo capo inclinato, in suxo la croce tuto e penato, per dare pace e gratia a l’omo ingrato, m i s e r i c o r d i a,  I e s ù,  a l’anima ribella. S a l v e,  I e s ù   Christo, con la töa bocha bella, treman(o) le labre, la lengua non favela, serati sono i denti per la morte fella, m i s e r i c o r d i a,  I e s ù,  a li pecaduri gramuxi.177

The repetitive parts do not have a fixed meter. The two stanzas are characterized by approximate syllabic verse composed of lines of varying length from hendecasyllable to double seven-syllable.178 The sequence of the specific measures within the quatrains can change—the use of the litanic formulas makes up for this lack of stability. Thus, a particular approach to the versification makes this caudate sirventes179 a litany with some metrical elements that also stabilize the syllabic versification of the parts enclosed between the two formulas in bold type (my emphasis). In the laudario we find two other laudas, in which the potential of litanic verse is exploited. Lauda XLVII180 is a short terza rima, with each three-line stanza opened by an invocation to Mercy (“Mixerichordia”). Troiano considers it to be 174 Ibid., 129. The scheme involves the double seven-syllable, the six-syllable, and the hendecasyllable verse. 175 Ibid., 129. The codex comes from the Venice Marciana Library. 176 Cf. Sadowski, Litania i poezja, 72–3. 177 There is a quite similar enumeration of Jesus’ body parts defined as beautiful in Laudi mariane di antichi battuti comaschi, eds. Francesco Casnati and Maria Luisa Re (Como: Tip. Sagsa, Soc. Arti Grafiche S. Abbondio, 1954), and in the Laudario dei Battuti di Modena. 178 Cf. Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 129. 179 In this type of sirventes, the last line of each stanza is shorter than the other lines. 180 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 281–3.

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a one-word refrain, but it should be correctly interpreted as a litanic formula. Why not a refrain? Because refrain function is common in the lauda form, but it should occupy a relevant place in the rhyme scheme, and here it does not. At the same time the parts that follow the formula change with each new stanza, and their structure consists of a formula accompanied by either attribute or antonomasia. Simultaneously, the hendecasyllabic frame is kept, and it helps us to recognize the borders of the verse. The last stanza breaks the routine of the terza rima by introducing a six-line envoy. Let us quote the first and the last part of the lauda (ll. 1–3; 28–33): Mixerichordia, o alto Idio soprano, cum la bocha ti chiamo e cum el chore, che mi sochuro a questo punto strano. […] Mixerichordia, o pietà divina, mixerichordia, o martir(i) benediti, mixerichordia a l’anima mischina, mixerichordia, o spir[i]ti cumsachrati, mixerichordia, Dio signir(e) benegno, mixerichordia, bem che io non sia degno.

Generally, the form of lauda often accepts litanic parts in the opening and at the end of poems. As we remember from the analysis of the works from Urbino and those of Bianco da Siena, the litanic elements can be introduced, concentrated, and rarefied, as occurs in the poem considered here. At the same time, individual prayer underlies our text. In two codices, Lauda XLVII is supplemented by a paratextual note “Oratio ad extremum,”181 that is, “the last prayer.” Some litanic qualities are clearly present (the formula, the invocative character), and they change the genre that receives them. Continuing the analysis of the anonymous laudas, the collection from Bologna contains a litany, or a kind of credo, in which the subject tries to give a personal, emotional definition of God. This could be explained by considering the specific situation of the ritual, in which a converted malefactor becomes a fervent Christian awaiting execution. Troiano considers Lauda XLIV182 to be “lauda litanica,”183 but it seems simply to be an original litany. The formula “Tu sei (el mio/la mia/mia)” (“You are my”) accompanies the hendecasyllabic lines of the poem, which lack a precise rhyme pattern. The twenty-five-line text ends 181 Ibid., 281. 182 Ibid., 267–8. 183 Ibid., 267.

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with a two-line envoy, while the rest is based on the said litanic frame. Let us quote a fragment (ll. 12–17): Tu sei mia dulzeza optima e sancta, tu sei la mïa unïone catolicha, tu sei la mia sapientia grande et profonda, tu sei mia simplicita[de] pura e neta, tu sei concordia mïa pacificha, tu sei guarda mia segura sempre,

We note both the theological references, and the original character of the circumlocutions: the litany is personal, as is the credo. The litanic potential is built up on the identification of the receiver by using the formula “You are.” We are convinced that in the traditional litanies this element is syntactically implied in the enumerations of the attributes by an elliptical construction. When saying “Mirror of justice, pray for us / Seat of wisdom, pray for us”184 the faithful mean “You are the mirror of justice.” The phrase built up on the predicate emerged in some laudas from the thirteenth century, and other texts from the Bologna laudario are related to such a model.185 It offers quite a simple way to construct an intense litanic verse in a more free way. Starting from this formula, in the poem we are discussing a coherent litany is developed. What amazes us is the personal character of this prayer. Following the percepts of the handbook of religious comfort, it was an individual condemned man who, in a very short time, had to go through all the stages of spiritual development in order to die as a fervent Christian who deserved to enter paradise. This explains in some way the concentration of various elements of prayer in a single poem. Let us briefly note a phenomenon that would become widespread starting at the end of the thirteenth century. A litanic stanza which opens Lauda VI186

184 From the Litany of Loreto. 185 A Marian text, Lauda XXIV, exploits the same model, this time without the predicate: “Tu schudo sempre contra lo nomicho, / t u venenoxa et acuta saieta, / t u gladio contra quel(o) serpento anticho. // Tu porta nostra, t u salute e vita, / t u scola di virtude e de costume, / t u ferma e vera iusta calamita.” Ibid., 165–72, lines 31–36. The lauda is a section of a very popular fourteenth-century terza rima, “Pianto della Vergine” by Enselmino da Montebelluna. According to the dating, the original planctus should be significantly older than the analyzed Lauda XLIV. We find also a free use of this model in a lauda which the laudario borrows from Il Saviozzo, a late fourteenth-century poet from Siena, the author of “Madre di Cristo glorïosa e pura.” Ibid., 267–8. 186 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 77–9.

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addresses Christ the Lord (with a supplication for mercy) and the saints. Here is the octave (ll. 1–8): Signor(e) beato, in croce crucifisso, o Signor(e) santo, pieno de patientia, o Signor(e) bello, che cusí tranfisso in suxo la croce stai como agnelo. O Signore iusto, che per nui derixo, fusti tradito da quel(o) popul(o) fello: misericordia Padre t’adimando de l’alma mia che presto vem pasando.

The invocative formula is here set out in a hendecasyllabic frame. The invocation in the opening of a lauda is in use starting from the thirteenth century—here it is combined with a more exact meter. From the end of the thirteenth century it contaminates other genres of religious and secular poetry, such as poems in ottava rima.187

6.3  The Marian Lauda The Bologna laudario contains a little group of Marian laudas. Troiano does not consider them as litanic poems, but we would like to analyze the litanic potential of two of them. Lauda XIII and Lauda XVI are both linked with the Ave Maria prayer. The author of Lauda XIII188 has been identified—he was Maestro Antonio da Ferrara.189 Using the words of the prayer as three-line formula, he extends the Ave Maria, grafting it onto the form of terza rima. The parts following the plural formula are attributes of the Blessed Virgin, or narrative phrases 187 We can mention Leggenda di santo Giosafà by Neri Pagliaresi, a fourteenth-century poet from the circle of Catherine of Siena, whose canticles often open with a litanic prayer to Christian receivers. We quote a fragment, which is interestingly elaborated based on Dante’s Inferno. “Pars XI”: “O porta del superno stabil regno, / umile santa Vergine Maria, / per te si va a veder chi sul legno morì per trarci di noia e resia, / per te si va du’ l’uom sul pregno / di tanto ben, che più non ne desia, / per te si va tra gli angelici canti, / dove si vive tra gli etterni santi. // O avvocata d’ogni peccatore […]” Cf. Neri Pagliaresi, Fra Felice Tancredi da Massa, Niccolò Cicerchia, Cantari religiosi senesi del Trecento, 137. 188 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 101–5. 189 A poet from Ferrara, a “wandering rhymer,” as Treccani Encyclopedia defines him, who lived in the fourteenth century in Emilia-Romagna and Tuscany. His works are among the most interesting examples of verses written by the Italian jongleurs.

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concerning the Annunciation and Incarnation. We then have nine lines of blessings (“Benedeta:” ll. 19–21; “Benedeto:” ll. 28–30; “Santa:” ll. 40–42; “Blessed,” “Saint”) and a final triple supplication (“Hora per (nui)” “Pray for (us)”). We observe more litanic qualities, which we may enumerate: i. the salutatio (chairetisms), the laudatio (ll. 1–4): Ave,190 stela Diana, lucente e serena, Ave, Virgo sacrata, umile e bella, Ave, saluto d’ogne nostra pena. Maria, del Salvator(e) divota cela,

ii. antonomasias of Mary and Jesus (ll. 25–27; 31; 37): Mulïer aütenticha e coreta, Mulïer casta d’ognie vicio rio, Mulïer pretïoxa et parvoleta. […] Fructo soave, fruto saporoxo […] Iesù Christo, veraze e benedeto,

iii. the ektenial petition in the last stanza: Hora per nui, ché seguitàm tua insegna, Hora per li pecaduri, dona cortexe, Hora per li passati, imperatrice degna. Amen.

The lauda also boasts a strong hendecasyllabic frame, which could obviate any further need to stabilize the verse, but the regularity of the formulas supports the versification in an additional manner. Finally, unlike the greater part of the laudario, the poem constitutes a choral prayer. In Lauda XVI191 Troiano notes the presence of a litanic enumeratio, a paraphrase of Ave Maria that occupies lines 1–8. After an initial plea we have a part devoted to Marian attributes (one for each line), concentrated in lines 15–16 and including the phrase “Oxana in ecelsis” (l.16). A litanic fragment follows, with the apostrophic, Italian formula “Madre” (“Mother”), which is accompanied by a Latin couplet, “Mater semper omnium apostolorum, / Mater semper omnium disipulorum” (ll. 23–24).192 Let us quote the heart of the litany (ll. 17–22):

190 The italics are quoted from the Troiano edition. 191 Il laudario di S. Maria della Morte, 123–6. 192 A variation on this phrase appears in the Litany of Loreto.

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Madre de umilitade, Madre de pietade, Madre dolze de tute le vergine, Madre tuta piena de puritade, Madre de castità, da cui s’emprende, Madre del mante de la vedortade, Madre de çiascun sancto profeta, da chi crede,

It is necessary to remark the bipartite nature of this text, which starting from line 25 assumes the form of ottava rima. The first part lacks a well-defined scheme of rhymes and stanzas.193 In fact, the litany seems to be composed around the Latin couplet mentioned above. From line 25 a regular octave follows with an identifying formula, “Tu sei” (“You are,” two apostrophes for each stanza), and a list of attributes. As we remember from the analysis of Bianco da Siena’s litanic strategies, this could be a rarefied litanic stanza, but a problem is the heterogeneous character of the poem. Troiano’s note about the litanic enumeration proves his sensitivity as to the presence of litanic structures within the laudas. Our task is to give a complete analysis of different types of litanic expression. Thus, we distinguish original litanies from litanic components, either rhetorical or semantic. Coming back to Lauda XVI, some parts of the text recall Rayna possentissima, an ancient lauda from Bologna, which we analyzed in the first part of the present work. It is not only due to the accumulation of Marian attributes—which seem however to be the most recognizable pattern of the vernacular (Italian) tradition of lauda—but the use of some particular forms, such as the superlatives “viola purissima” (“the purest violet,” l. 25), “roxa lucentissima” (“the brightest rose,” l.  27), “luna lucentissima” (“the brightest Moon,” l. 29), “zema preciosissima” (“the most precious gem,” l. 30)—elements, almost all of which appear194 in the thirteenth-century Marian poems.

6.4 Conclusions Some rhetorical and thematic aspects present in our laudario are found in the laudas from the second half of the fourteenth century. In our analysis we have tried to emphasize the original part of the collection from Bologna, which had a particular function, that of converting malefactors or, generally, persons

193 As Troiano notes, in another manuscript the ottava rima form is assumed from the beginning of the text. 194 “Lucentissima” does not appear, but we have instead “stella dolce clarissima,”, and “lucerna splendidissima”. In many aspects the spelling, after almost two centuries, does not evince major changes.

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condemned to death. As we have noted in the preliminary remarks, other confraternities of justice left other codices and some of the texts contained in the Bologna laudario can be found in different versions, respecting both linguistic and formal aspects. In spite of the age of the manuscripts—collected after the standardization of Italian versification produced by the writers of the Tuscan Trecento—we notice that the lauda stabilizes partially its metrical aspects. Even if the ears of the public become accustomed to the hendecasyllable, which replaces the ancient models starting in the thirteenth century, the approximate syllabic verse remains an enduring character of the genre of lauda. One could hardly say that the versification of the laudas of the confraternity of Santa Maria della Morte are all metrically exact; irregular pattern of rhymes and irregular division of a text into sections accompany the approximate syllabic meters. The influence of the litany, a phenomenon that is clearly present in the laudarios, could be a frame that allowed this resistance to metrical standardization: those laudas with an intense litanic matrix usually combine this feature with a weaker syllabic verse.

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7 Text and Music in the Laudario giustinianeo As we remarked previously, the lauda form involved poetry, music and—in the thirteenth century—probably the dance, too. The extant laudarios have mostly preserved the textual parts, while any information related to the performance has been lost. Hence, some scholars have tried to reconstruct either the gestures or the spatial configuration of the dance. Thus, we can suppose that initially there was a general scheme of a circular, collective movement.195 The musical notation is preserved for a few codices, such as the thirteenth-century Laudario di Cortona and the Laudario giustinianeo,196 collected in the second half of the fifteenth century (1450–1460). The supposed author of the latter manuscript is Leonardo Giustinian (ca. 1388–1446), an intellectual and patrician from Venice, and an exponent of the Italian Umanesimo. Giustinian is remembered for his love poetry, which lies outside the traditional schemes thanks to his interest in folk sources. It was supplied with musical notation which has not survived.197 He left also a laudario, a collection of original and non-original laudas, which were assembled in a large and unique codex. For centuries it was considered to be an authentic work,198 but in the last century doubts arose about the attribution of

195 Cf. Roncaglia, “Nella preistoria della lauda,” 466–8. 196 An edition with both the texts and the music: Laudario giustinianeo, ed. Francesco Luisi (Venice: Edizioni Fondazione Levi, 1983), vol. I: Edizione comparata con note critiche del ritrovato laudario ms. 40 (ex biblioteca dei padri somaschi della salute di Venezia) attribuito a Leonardo Giustinian; vol. II: Musiche a modo proprio, ricostruzioni e “cantasi come” nella tradizione musicale dei secoli XV–XVI–XVII per le fonti delle laude attribuite a Leonard Giustinian. The first volume contains the texts. The second volume will be considered in our later analysis, which is a study of the musical aspects of the lauda in the fifteenth century. 197 A modern edition of the canzonette: Lionardo Giustiniani, Poesie edite ed inedite, ed. Bertold Wiese (Bologna: Comissione per i testi di lingua, 1968); first ed. 1883. The texts are dialogical and present some litanic features, such as laudatory invocations. 198 Giustinian’s collection, in its richest manuscript version—the Ms. 40 ex Biblioteca dei Padri Somaschi della Salute from the Marciana Library—contains 125 laudas (with another six which repeat some texts). The interest of scholars in this codex started in the eighteenth century—Luisi quotes Crescimbeni’s comments on the history of Italian literature published in 1702–1711. Cf. Laudario giustinianeo I, 23.

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authorship and supervision of the work.199 Francesco Luisi hypothesizes that the manuscript could have been collected even after Giustinian’s death. He describes the fifteenth-century Venetian context in the following way: È tipica di Venezia una organizzazione capillare dei servizi devozionali con impiego di cantori di laude per processioni solenni e per più umili funerali; l’organizzazione prevede il controllo da parte del Guardian Grande della Scuola coadiuvato da un comitato che in ogni caso deve rispondere al Consiglio dei Dieci. Se si considera poi l’incredibile fiorire a Venezia degli Ordini Religiosi non può meravigliare che la città lagunare e il suo dominio dell’entroterra rappresentino nel sec. XV il più attivo centro di produzione e diffusione della cultura laudistica italiana.200

Starting from the mid-fifteenth century, Venice assigned to the Great Schools (Scuole Grandi) various services, such as processions and funerals, which required the performance of laudas.201 Later, the Schools controlled the situations related to composition of the laudas as well. Nevertheless, Giustinian’s laudario seems to have been an independent project, which coincided with a flourishing of the confraternal and laudistic culture. The collection was prepared by a writer who had mastery over both the vernacular poetry, from the stilnovo to Petrarch, and the regional tradition: this double character is one of the most remarkable aspects of Giustinian’s collection.202 In fact, the laudario had an immediate and wide distribution. In 1474 the editio princeps203 was printed, which was later lost.

199 Ibid., 26, 28: the manuscript could even have been collected after Giustinian’s death, starting from his drawings and notes. Luisi suggests Leonardo’s son, but without giving any definitive answer. 200 Cf. Laudario giustinianeo I, 24. 201 Ronald Weissman studied Renaissance confraternities. He writes about an overlapping of urban society and quasi-municipal duties of religious associations of laymen (for Venice, but it can be applied to Bologna as well). He describes the function of these associations: “Assuring the continuity of fraternal mutual assistance, together with the repair of social order through reconciliation were at the heart of Renaissance fraternal ritual. […] the rituals of confraternities taught an ethic of mutuality, reciprocity, and collective obligation between the living members of the brotherhood and between the living and the dead.” Cf. Ronald F.E. Weissman, “From brotherhood to congregation: confraternal ritual between Renaissance and Catholic Reformation,” in Riti e rituali nelle società medievali, eds. Jacques Chiffoleau, Lauro Martines, and Agostino Paravicini Bagliani (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull’alto medioevo, 1994), 80, 88. 202 Laudario giustinianeo I, 24. 203 Laura Pini, “Per l’edizione critica delle canzonette di Leonardo Giustinian (indice di classificazioni dei manoscritti e delle stampe antiche),” Atti dell’Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei VIII, IX(1960): 423.

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However, a large number of reproductions204 of the manuscript and its further printed editions survive.

7.1  Textual Litanic Characters As Luisi claims, Leonardo Giustinian is surely the author of a certain number of the laudas included in the collection.205 A group of verses by more or less wellknown authors (Petrarch among others), occupy a relevant part of the laudario. After the laudario had been disseminated, many of the poems were conventionally associated with Giustinian’s name, even if only one group of laudas can be attributed to him. In fact, the text derives from different epochs. The importance of the critical edition prepared by Luisi derives from the presence of both text and music, even for some older laudas. The tunes are presented through either a short description, that is “cantasi come” (“to be sung as”)—which in the fifteenth century had to be a clear reference for the performers—or scores.206 We shall analyze first the texts of the laudario, then the music. Among the laudas in Giustinian’s laudario, different types of litanic repetitions and invocations can be found. As most of the litanic patterns that appear in the collection have been presented in the previous part of our analysis, for many of these poems a short description should be sufficient; others will be examined in a deeper way.

7.2 Mystical Lauda Starting from the lauda “Amor Iesú consentime” (“Jesus, my Love, let me”),207 we observe the litanic anaphora “tu sei” (“you are”) which opens certain stanzas of the poem. It is then concentrated in some specific parts of the text. An analogue strategy is adopted in another Christological song of praise, “Amor Iesú dilecto”

204 A large number of codices containing laudas, which can be retraced to Giustinian’s laudario, are preserved in the libraries of Venice, Verona, Ferrara, Bologna, Florence, Siena, Rome, and Naples. 205 According to a table arranged by Luisi, more than 110 laudas can be confidently attributed to Giustinian, while 19 other texts are doubtful attributions. 206 The musical tradition of the “cantasi come” is typical for some cultural areas of the Apennine Peninsula. Cf. Blake Wilson, Singing Poetry in Renaissance Florence. The cantasi come tradition (1375–1550) (Florence–Bridgetown: Olschki–Fontecolombo Institute, 2009a). 207 Cf. Laudario giustinianeo I, 255.

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(“Love Jesus beloved”).208 It is manifested through a litanic concentration of the attributes in the fifth stanza of the poem (ll. 29–37). As for the tradition of mystical-litanic schemes, we observe a certain degree of simplification of the Christological mysticism developed in the previous centuries. Briefly remembering Ugo Panziera’s works, we are convinced that starting from the end of the fourteenth century there was a general tendency to convert mystical poetry into shorter, popular verses similar to prayer. This should not surprise us, if we keep in mind that the need for vernacular prayer was increasing during that time. The catalogue of mystical attributes is no longer developed, nor is the metrical aspect— many authors work using an inventory of textual formulas. The lauda “Ciascaun amante che ama el Signore” (“Each lover who loves the Lord”)209 invites those who love the Lord to dance together. In lines 31–37, we observe residual elements of the mysticism of Jacopone da Todi and Bianco da Siena: Tochando amor, d’amor serai tocato, vestendo amor, de ti serai spoleato; tuto serà alora de te privato e transformato in quel conducitore. Amor, amor, for de mi m’ài tracto; Amor, amor, dove m’ài menato? Amor, amor, non so dove sia intrato, ché sum intrato in fornace d’amore.

This lauda formally reminds us of the poetics of Jacopone da Todi,210 and it has a strong link with the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century ballata minore form— the rhyme scheme is xx aaax bbbx…, and quite regular hendecasyllable verse constitutes the metrical basis. The quoted stanza isolates archaizing references. The lexicon recalls Jacopone, while the versification is more closely related to Bianco da Siena’s style, and the topic of dance takes up a thirteenth-century model originating in the laudas of Guittone d’Arezzo.211 According to Luisi,

208 Ibid., 289–90. 209 Ibid., 290–1. The incipit: “Ciascaun amante che ama el Signore” / “venga ala danza cantando d’amore.” 210 We are reminded of the importance of the stress on the fourth syllable in Jacopone’s and Bianco’s mystical works. 211 Lauda XXXIX “Invito alla mistica danza.” The refrain is: “Vegna, vegna—chi vuole giucundare / e a la danza se tegna” (ll. 1–2). Guittone d’Arezzo, Le rime, ed. France­ sco Egidi (Bari: Gius. Laterza & Figli, Bari, 1940), 107–8. Guittone d’Arezzo was a thirteenth-century Tuscan poet and friar. The poem is preserved without musical notation.

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the analyzed poem from Giustinian’s collection should be attributed to another, older author.212 Otherwise, we should have to consider it an attempt to recreate an ancient style. “Iesú verbo de Trinitade” (“Jesus, word of the Trinity”)213—as Luisi argues, this should be attributed to Giustinian—is another canonical ballad provided with a refrain (xx aaax…). We observe an anaphora, which inaugurates the stanzas by building descriptions of Jesus, then a brief accumulation of repetitions, and segments of invocations follow. Certain quotations from Jacopone da Todi imitate the mystical model without adding new elements (ll. 71–74): Iesú è dolce a cogitare, Iesú è dolce ad amare summo e dolce a gustare, piem de summa suavitade.

7.3  The Marian Lauda “O Maria Diana stella”214 is a praising invocation and the opening of a poem. Let us cite the onsets of the other five quatrains: “O Maria Diana stella;” “O Maria del sol vestita;” “O Maria, el tuo bel manto;” “O Maria, el tuo bel viso;” “O Maria, la tua Biancha testa;” “O Maria del ciel reçina” (“Oh Mary morning star,” “Oh Mary in the sunshine all arrayed,” “Oh Mary, your lovely mantle,” “Oh Mary your beautiful face,” “Oh Mary your white head,” “Oh Mary the queen of heaven”).215 “O Maria Diana stella” appears as a praising prayer, which presents a litanic

212 Cf. Laudario giustinianeo I, 250. The author could be Jacopone da Todi, or a poet slightly younger than Giustinian, such as Feo Belcari (a fifteenth-century spiritual poet from Florence) or Caterina Vigri, a female mystic from Bologna who was Belcari’s contemporary. In the manuscript the lauda is anonymous. In Giusti­ nian’s laudario we find indeed a text attributed to Jacopone, the Latin Stabat Mater (ibid., 297), and a fragment of “Dona delo paradiso,” a Jacopone lauda reworked in three stranzas (11 lines), in which the repetition “Acorri” is emphasized (ll. 4 and 8): ibid., 295. Another fragment of a lauda is attributed to Bianco da Siena (“Per la sua begnitade,” ibid., 298). 213 Ibid., 308–9. 214 Ibid., 259. 215 Lines 1, 5, 9, 13, 17, 21. One can note influences of Latin Marian hymns. At line 5 we observe a quotation from Petrarch’s Canzone 366, which has the same addressee. Within the laudario we find the mentioned Petrarch canzone “Verçene bella che de sol vestita,” transcribed with Venetian inflections, but following the regular metrical model of the original. Ibid., 269–70.

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character depending on the mobility of the segments that follow the invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Basically, we are still dealing with approximate syllabic verse. This means that when the lauda form takes over the Petrarchan model,216 this fact does not regularize the versification, which remains of the older type. As we have observed previously, certain kinds of litanic repetition support the approximate versification of the lauda. In our laudario the Marian-litanic reminiscences often imply an anaphora at the beginning of the stanzas, as occurs also in the lauda “Verçene madre del fiol de Dio” (“Virgin mother of God’s son”).217 Each stanza of the poem presents a further division into two units supplemented by a line—which appears in an irregular position—that invokes once again the initial addressee (“Verçene”) followed by an attribute, a relative sentence, or a supplication. It is necessary to stress that this second anaphora is expressed in seven-syllable lines—except for the third, fourth, and fifth stanzas—that follow each time a hendecasyllable.218 This metrical distinction reinforces the position of the litanic element. In the middle part of the stanzas, a mixed versification (the seven-syllable verse together with the hendecasyllable) is accompanied by the mentioned litanic-anaphoric arrangement.219 “Ave Maria verçene gloriosa” (“Hail Mary, glorious Virgin”)220 is an ottava rima, in which the litanic verse is disseminated through the opening of the stanzas that tell the life of Mary. The chairetismic anaphora (“Ave Maria”) is followed by a sequence of attributes that occupy the first five and last two stanzas. It is worth noting that some of the attributes are very close to the vernacular language of Marian poetry. Let us quote a few phrases: “verçene gloriosa” (“glorious virgin,” l. 1), “stella mattutina” (“morning star,” l. 9), “fresca rosa olente” (“fresh and

216 “O Maria del sol vestita”, line 5 imitates Petrarch’s 366, “Vergine bella, che di sol vestita.” 217 Laudario giustinianeo I, 270–1. The anaphora occupies the first, five-syllable part of the mentioned lines, so we are dealing with a canonical a minore hendecasyllable. The stanza before the envoy presents no inner repetition. In two stanzas “Verçene” is replaced by the Latin form “Virgo,” which is also used in the Italian spiritual lauda. 218 Except for the seventh stanza, in which the line before the invocation “O verçene riposso” is anyway a seven-syllable. 219 The lauda presents an uncommon rhyme and assonance pattern. It is abcabccddede. Similar patterns appear rarely in the sixteenth century (for example in some works by Bernardo Tasso and Niccolò Macchiavelli). They are mentioned in several treatises on the ars poetica from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as a variation scheme for the poem in seven-syllable. 220 Laudario giustinianeo I, 301.

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fragrant rose,” l. 73). Some of these expressions, such as “virgo intercedente”221 (“interceding virgin,” l. 25), and “verçene fiorita”222 (“blooming virgin,” l. 33) are variations on the thirteenth-century laudas. It is necessary to underline that this type of litanic reference, which originated in the devotion to the Blessed Virgin, was the most common and widespread in Italian poetry during the Middle Ages and subsequent centuries. However, in Giustinian’s poems the link between the litanic invocations and the versification is not as strong as in the previous epochs. It does not involve entire laudas, but only fragments of texts. In fact, often (see “Ave verçene gloriosa”) we note a stable, hendecasyllable pattern woven together with other meters. The ottava rima form is normalized through a pattern of rhymes, and the litanic components stabilize it additionally, but this fact is not necessary for the legibility of the meter of the poem. In the monumental lauda “Fonte tanto chiarito” (“Such a bright Spring”)223 we note a separate, litanic part that on the surface manifests a strategy which reminds us of that of Bianco da Siena. Starting from line 138 two types of litanic verse are introduced: the invocative type (“Maria”, for example, “Maria, vincol d’amore,” “Mary, bond of love,” l. 138), and the identifying type (“Tu sei”, for example, “Tu sei vera aiutrice,” “You are the true help,” l. 143). An accumulation of both follows in lines 186–202. The second type shapes the first part,224 and it is bound with the second through the final invocation “Maria” which syntactically completes the sentence. This interesting litanic fragment is not isolated within the poem. On the contrary, it is linked up with other stanzas by either introducing or dissipating the anaphoras before their concentration. We have described such a strategy in a paper on Bianco da Siena.225 It is worth emphasizing that the identifying type is inaugurated but not dissipated, while the invocative repetition continues to preserve its litanic status in the following part of the lauda, where it opens six other stanzas (ll. 267, 275, 283, 291, 299, 307).

221 The usual Latin locution is “Maria intercedente.” Cf. Jean Deshusses and Benoit Darragon, Concordances et tableaux pour l’étude del grands sacramentaires, Tome III, 3 (Freibourg: Editions Universitaires, 1983), 27. 222 Cf. “Rayna possentissima,” line 41: “la più aflorata.” 223 Laudario giustinianeo I, 309–12. 224 Rhyme scheme: abababcd on the model of cobla capfinida (except for stanzas 2/3, 3/4, 4/5, 15/16, 17/18, 18/19, 19/20, 20/21, 21/22, 27/28, 30/31, 32/33, 34/35). Variations consisting of assonances or consonances in some rhyming positions are possible. 225 Magdalena Maria Kubas, “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena,” Bullettino Senese di Storia Patria CXXII(2015): 155–69.

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7.4 The Holy Spirit and the Saints The poem entitled “Spirito Sancto amore”226 addresses Love, or the Holy Spirit. We have analyzed other, similar laudas, but this type of receiver is not very common in the Italian spiritual poetry of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The lauda devoted to the Holy Spirit, which was analyzed earlier along with the laudario from Cortona,227 could be seen as a text with proto-litanic features.228 We note the double epithets in the final stanza of Giustinians’ lauda (ll. 77–84): Signor, dame scientia, conseio et intelletto, forteça e sapiençia, pietà e timor perfeto;

Within the poem the litanic features are expressed through invocative enumerations, but the quoted part contains some redoubled attributes that were connected with this type of addressee229 also as before. We could say that our lauda takes up in a clear way certain semantic and lexical elements which are associated with the Holy Spirit in the devotional tradition, a tradition that obviously includes the text from Cortona. As we observed when analyzing the laudario from Bologna, some canonical prayers could benefit from the litanic arrangement of the lines. Such a set could emphasize either parts or the entirety of certain laudas. An interesting use of repetition appears in “Credo in un solo omnipotente Dio” (“I believe in one God Almighty”)230 a poem composed of eleven quatrains (plus a five-line envoy) following the rhyme scheme abbc addc cdde effg… The metrical shape manifests a hendecasyllable and seven-syllable frame (the latter occupies the third line of each stanza). There is a strong link between the stanzas, which consists of

226 Laudario giustinianeo I, 258. 227 Lauda XXXI (“Spirito santo da servire”). Cf. Guarnieri, Laudario di Cortona, 135–8. The Litany of the Holy Spirit was probably created later, but some parts of the poem present a litanic nature ante litteram. 228 From a general, morpho-generative point of view, some pre-litanic texts correspond to the grammar of the litany. Cf. Francesco Galofaro and Magdalena Maria Kubas, “Dei Gentrix: A Generative Grammar for the Traditional Litanies,” in Proceedings of the 7th Workshop on Computational Models of Narrative 53(2016). Doi: 10.4230/OASIcs.CMN.2016.12. 229 There are some other attributes composed of adjectives, which represent the canonical ways of describing the Holy Spirit, such as “Paraclito amoroso” (l. 45). 230 Laudario giustinianeo I, 271–2.

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a repetition of the rhyming word between the last line of a quatrain and the first line of the one following, but this is not used in the first stanza. It is accompanied—except for the incipit—by an anaphora that opens each stanza (“E credo in (nel)/che,” “And I believe in/that”), which implies the enumeration of Christ’s names, attributes, and episodes of his life related to that present in the Creed. The last three quatrains are a variation on the second part of the Creed, then we have a five-line envoy, a conclusion in which a personal warning about keeping the faith is enounced. Such litanic paraphrases of the existing prayers reinforce their expressivity. Perhaps they also help in memorizing of both the vernacular laudas and the Latin originals of the prayers. Although “In vita eterna li agnioli e sancti” (“In the eternal life, the angels and saints”)231 seems to be attributable to another author,232 the text includes an interesting part of a litany. This work is a non-homogeneous lauda, clearly composed of two parts. Starting from line 131 a poetic Litany of the Saints, written in the seven-syllable together with the hendecasyllable, begins. As for the topic, the first part of the poem manifests a further bipartition. It opens with a description of Paradise with hierarchies of angels, Jesus, and His Mother (ll. 1–58). A penitential declaration addressed to Love233 (ll. 59–74), the story of the resurrection of Christ-Love (ll. 75–98), and a profession of the desire to imitate Him (ll. 99–106) follow. But this is only an introduction to the angelologic litany (ll. 107–130), which is a prelude to that consecrated to the saints (ll. 131–178). The lauda closes with three stanzas of supplications (ll. 179–202). The angelology, arranged in a litanic manner, is shaped on the plural receivers of the invocations, as in the stanza we quote below. The perceptional (i.e. visual, acoustic) aspects are here emphasized within the list of heavenly entities (ll. 107–114): O seraphin[i] ardente d’amore a Dio piú presso sète, o cherubin per vero spïandor[e] [sopra a] tuti lucente, throni divini, spechio del Signore per chui sempre galdete, quel che vedete pregate che lui me faza puro chiaro et ardente.

231 Ibid., 314–6. 232 Bianco da Siena has been supposed to be the author, but the text is not included in the last critical edition of his poems by Silvia Serventi. Cf. Il Bianco da Siena, Laudi, ed. Silvia Serventi (Rome: Antonianum, 2013). 233 In a mystical context.

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Like Dante’s Paradiso, it is all sound and light. In the following part, in which human virtues are outlined, we meet the litanic formulas encouraging the prayer of the faithful “pregate el Salvatore” (“pray to the Savior,” l. 159), and “pregate quel clemente” (“pray to the clement one,” l. 146). But let us read a stanza (ll. 147–154): O santo [benedetto] Zuam Batista prega per mi lo sposo sí che io infeto piú non li resista, o Pietro gratioso e tu Paolo perfeto, Zuane Evangelista et Andrea vigoroso e tu [giososo] Iacomo mazore priega per mi dolente.

It is clearly observable that the attributes can be referred to the saints, but also to the repentant (for example, “dolente”), who is praying. Further we find a stanza dedicated to the female saints. This part unveils the mystical subject of the lauda. It is not a soul—as in the case of the poems of Jacopone da Todi and Bianco da Siena—but rather a specific, human sinner (ll. 175–178): Diletosa Zuliana o sancta Ursolina […] per vuy si sia pregato lo sposo mio per mi rio scognoscente.

Considering that the lauda is composed in the approximate syllabic verse, the litanic part achieves metrical stability through its responsorial character, the enumeration of receivers, and the variation on the usual litanic formula. The local litanies are arranged within an archaizing ballad form,234 which is typical of the epoch of Origins. We can conclude that the repertory of litanic means formally unify a poem which is heterogeneous from the thematic point of view. “Gratie ti rendo” (“I give you thanks”)235 is based on a thanksgiving formula, which is repeated in the opening of each stanza. After the fixed element either one of the Three Divine Persons is invoked, or a subordinate clause is built up. We read, for example, “Gratie ti rendo, Santa Trinitade” (“I thank you, Holy Trinity,” l. 3), “gratie te siano”, “gratie ti fazo”, “laude ti rendo” (“I praise you”), “gratie te sia,” “io gratie ti rendo” (expressions to thank someone; ll. 11, 12, 19, 70, 73, 77). From the metrical point of view, these expressions are mostly compatible (and so interchangeable) with the main anaphora. This confirms their litanic function 234 The scheme is: ABABA(b)CX. 235 Laudario giustinianeo I, 317–8.

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within the poem. Starting from line 69 an envoy begins, so for the last three locutions the rule changes. The litany is here condensed (ll. 69–74): Gratie ti rendo, sempiterno Padre, gratie te sia, Figlio unico dileto, gratie Sancto Spirito di bontade, gratie ti rendo, vero Dio perfeto; rendate gratie chi nel tuo conspeto e de lume del tuo volto signato ài.

We note that sometimes the formula is metrically contracted or expanded, but the litanic heart, which underlines the gratitude, is stated through a word-motif (“Gratie”, which is a Latinized spelling form for “thanks”). The lauda presents other, brief litanic, fragments, such as the stanza with the anaphoric repetition “Per” (“For”)236 in lines 13, 29, 48, 56, 61 (“Per la toa,” “For your”), 62, which are introduced and then condensed.

7.5  Some Musical Aspects As Luisi highlights, the fifteenth-century Venetian laudistic culture gained its individuality237 through the institutionalization of the confraternities and their unification in the Great Schools, which had administrative departments. This increased the social importance of the brotherhoods and allowed them to build up the professional musical and performative aspect of the laudas. According to Luisi: Agli inizi si assiste principalmente al trapianto di una tradizione proveniente dal centro Italia attraverso il movimento dei Bianchi che ebbero a Venezia modo di diffondere la loro pratica laudistica. Evidentemente anche altri Ordini religiosi accolsero favorevolmente la pratica del canto laudistico […]. Di certo Venezia fu erede della grande tradizione laudistica del Trecento e seppe trovare una sua autonomia stilistica che prescindendo dai valori testuali o poetici trovava modo di esplicarsi sotto l’aspetto musicale.238

Special attention was dedicated to the musical aspect. This led to the formation of a separate, local school of lauda.239 As Luisi notes:

236 The expression is frequent in laudas, especially those of Bianco da Siena. There could be influence from Dante’s Inferno III, lines 1–3. 237 Laudario giustinianeo I, 525. 238 Ibid., 525–6. 239 During that time in Northern Europe, the composers of the Franco-Flemish School were developing new techniques of musical polyphony, of which Venice would soon become an important centre too.

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[scil. la tradizione fiorentina] utilizza la pratica dei “Cantasi come” mutuando ancora gli atteggiamenti o aeri musicali dalle canzoni o ballate popolari, come dimostra ampiamente il codice Chigiano L.VII.266 e altre fonti toscane. Per le laude di tradizione veneziana fondamentalmente mancano testimonianze circa il ricorso a intonazioni profane coeve; il fenomeno si verifica molto più tardi filtrato dalla tradizione fiorentina ed è un fatto significativo che la matrice profana richiamata nei “Cantasi come” tradisca la derivazione da un cultura propriamente veneziana.240

Even if many collections of sacred music have not been preserved to our times,241 we know that singers, musicians, choristers, composers, etc. were engaged by the Great Schools. As far as the musical aspect is concerned, our Venetian lauda­ rio presents two types of singing instructions: either “a modo proprio” (“their own musical setting”)242 or “cantasi come” (“to be sung like”).243 As Luisi argues, Giustinian’s laudario for about a century became a reference point for the further development of the lauda, even the Florentine.244 The collection led to the development of a poetic-musical style that was half scholarly and half popular.245 Starting from the fifteenth century in the patrician circles of Venice and in the Great Schools, the polyphonic techniques were used and codified.246 From the musical point of view, a number of tunes that originated in the oral tradition were adapted by composers in the fifteenth and sixteenth-century arrangements. From the sixteenth century the codification concerned both text and music, even if the practice of lauda remained mainly linked to devotional contexts. Collecting transcriptions for several laudas included in Laudario giustinianeo Luisi published the music, consisting of works which are conventionally called giustinianee, as they derive from the trend inaugurated by Leonardo Giustinian. Due to the variety of sources used for the collation, small differences arise sometimes between the poems published in the first volume and the lyrics which accompany the musical notation (i.e. the second volume by Luisi). The manuscripts 240 Laudario giustinianeo I, 526. 241 Jonathan Glixon, “The Polyphonic Laude of Innocentius Dammonis,” The Journal of Musicology, vol. 8, 1(1990): 19–21. 242 Ibid. 243 Some melodies are reconstructed. 244 See also Blake Wilson, “‘Transferring Tunes and Adjusting Lines’: Leonardo Giu­stinian and the Giustiniana in Quattrocento Florence,” in Uno gentile et subtile ingenio: studies in Renaissance music in honour of Bonnie J. Blackburn, eds. M. Jennifer Bloxam, Gioia Filocamo, and Leofranc Holford-Strevens (Brepols: Centre d’etudes superieures de la Renaissance, 2009b), 547–67. 245 Laudario giustinianeo I, 526. 246 Ibid., 528–9.

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and early printed editions have different dating and musical systems, reflecting, for example, the passage from black to white notation. Other aspects, such as the staff, the clefs, and the mensural values, can be different too. Luisi also provided modern notation for both the melody and the rhythm. His purpose is to restore the possibility of performance. In the following section, we will examine the types of musical repetition that concern some of the  l a u d a s   analyzed in the part dedicated to the textual litanic features.247

7.6  Music and Litany in the Laudas of Giustinian As for the Christological laudas, “Amor Yhesú dillecto”248 presents a two-voice melody.249 The refrain together with the first stanza of the poem250 are set out in the musical score. First of all, a play of musical repetitions between the refrain and the stanza is established. The litanic part of the text is concentrated in the fourth nine-line stanza. The musical variations do not follow the textual litanic features, and the textual anaphora is not stressed by either the melody or the rhythm. Where the expression “Tu sei” appears, the melody changes. If we think that the first feature of the musical litany should be the presence of a few segments that might be repeated ad infinitum, this lauda does not meet that requirement. We note that “Amor Iesù dilecto” (ll. 29–37 of the text251) when set to music, includes monotonic segments that in some way go against the litanic fragments of the lauda—this smoothes the recognizability of these specific segments of the text and, consequently, their relevance. Luisi provides two transcriptions derived from two manuscripts for “O Maria Diana stella.”252 Before analyzing the original compositions, it is worth noting that two popular tunes, which Luisi publishes in the section of “cantasi come,”253 247 General remarks on music and litany in Dusan Stefani, Le forme musicali nella liturgia rinnovata (Turin: Editrice Elle Di Ci, 1984). 248 Laudario giustinianeo II, 4–5, “a modo proprio” from a Giustinian group of sources. 249 In the codex the melody is fixed on the same staff, which was not the usual practice. We note that the technique of singing offers ornamental elements. 250 There are some small textual differences between the manuscripts that contain the music (with the first stanza of the lauda) and the poem. 251 Laudario giustinianeo I, 290. 252 Laudario giustinianeo II, 94–5, “a modo proprio”; ibid., 187, 188, “cantasi come.” 253 This musical tradition is analyzed in Blake Wilson, Music and merchants: the laudesi companies of republican Florence (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), and briefly in

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were the melodies used for this lauda. The first one comes from a Florentine collection of canti canascialeschi,254 that is, a codex including profane melodies. In the first melody, which is based on the “cantasi come” tradition,255 we observe a bipartite structure, in which two out of three musical phrases—which in our case correspond to a line of the text—are repeated twice. Thus we have: i. line 1–2 (phrase 1, twice); ii. line 3 (phrase 2); iii. line 4 (phrase 3, twice). The first repetition pulls into the litanic orbit also the second, textual line of each stanza. In the laudario we find both popular and original music. The latter type is represented by two compositions related to the poem: a single voice tune,256 which contains no repetition, and a four-voice arrangement by Serafino Razzi257 from the late sixteenth century.258 The latter work is composed of six quatrains without any refrain. It manifests a simple structure (rhyme pattern abba) and contains a typically litanic invocation which involves the opening of each stanza. The melodic progression in Razzi’s polyphonic composition seems not to consider the litanic quality of the poem, and may even be in contradiction to it, as through a repetition of the melody of the last line of the strophe the ending, and not the opening, is emphasized. When reading the text, one can easily recognize that the final line of the stanzas does not imply any litanic element. Once again, the musical repetition draws attention to a non-litanic segment of the text.

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255 256 257 258

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Francesco Luisi, La musica vocale nel rinascimento. Studi sulla musica vocale profana in Italia nei secoli XV e XVI. A local genre that was very popular in the age of De’ Medici. The musical tradition of the Florentine canti carnascialeschi is related to the ancient form of canzone a ballo. This fact links this music with the development of the laudas. We remember that the early lauda evolved by adapting profane musical and poetical forms. Francesco Luisi describes its musical features: “La caratteristica di questi brani è soprattutto determinata dall’uso di una struttura formale strettamente legata alla ballata nella quale sono generalmente distinte la ripresa e le stanze; la versificazione è delle più estrose e irregolari e i metri usati sono per lo più i settenari e gli endecasillabi. La ripresa è quasi sempre di 4 versi e segue massimamente l’ordine delle rime incrociate […].” Luisi, La musica vocale nel rinascimento, 160. Laudario giustinianeo II, 187. Ibid., 94, from Berlin N. Mus. ant. theor. 30 dated from the fifteenth century. A Domenican friar born in Florence in 1531 and known from his history of the city of Ragusa in Dalmatia. Serafino Razzi, Libro primo delle laudi spirituali (Bologna: Forni, 1969).

However, one should remember that the repetition of the last line of a text is a widespread practice in, among others, devotional music and should not only be associated with the litanic genre. The situation changes when we read the lauda “Spirito Sancto amore.”259 Luisi proposes four musical arrangements which accompanied this poem:260 two of them elaborate the same melody of the cantus; three are polyphonic; one is a single-voice tune. Among them, there is a four-voice composition261 by Innocentius Dammonis,262 which could have been created not long after Giustinian’s collection. Apparently, the structure of the cantus could be older than the Renaissance (polyphonic) arrangement that involves three other voices. As for the musical repetition, the piece contains an interesting link between the refrain (“Spirito Sancto amore”) and the opening lines of the stanzas (for example “O raço procedente,” l. 5; “O sol incoronato,” l. 15, “O cibo di dolceça,” l. 21, etc.), in which the melody of the first line of the refrain is repeated.263 The stanzas start with an invocation or—in the case of the fifth and tenth stanzas—with a supplication. From the musical point of view, such a bond could be related to the litanic manner of singing. Moreover, the opening lines of the textual stanzas sometimes lack the anaphoric exclamation “O” (sixth, seventh, and eighth stanza). Combined with the melody the litanic (textual) link remains strong. We could conclude that the musical arrangement attentively emphasizes the connection with the litanic chant, and in the music this bond is even stronger than in the text.

7.7  “Vergine bella” As we have noted before, Petrarch’s Canzone 366 appears among the poems of the laudario. Starting from the mid-fourteenth century this poem gained great popularity. It was transcribed with little variations, or simply regional inflections, and included in several collections of laudas. In Giustinian’s laudario and in 259 Laudario giustinianeo II, 128–33, “a modo proprio.” 260 Originated from: Petrucci, Laude I (roman edition from the XVI century); twice in Lodi devote (1600); Lodi & Canzoni (1605). 261 It musically represents a style near to that of the frottola. As Glixon argues for Dammonis’ style, some of the tunes are clearly written for “poorly trained singers” of processions; other laudas by this composer have “melodic upper voice sensitive to the meter of the text and moderately active accompanying lower voices”. Cf. Glixon, “The Polyphonic Laude:” 30. 262 A composer from Venice who was active at the beginning of the sixteenth century. 263 The polyphonic arrangement transcribed by Luisi presents some minimal changes due to the differences of syllabification.

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other manuscripts it appeared as an anonymous text. Petrarch’s canzone “Vegine bella che di sol vestita” (“O Virgin fair, in sunshine all arrayed”)264 itself presents refined litanic features: the poem included in Giustinian’s laudario manifests Venetian inflections; however, the music published by Luisi is accompanied by a text which is slightly different from both versions, i.e. Petrarch’s original and its Giustinian version. The first arrangement, by Serafino Razzi,265 is a two-voice chant which introduces the first stanza of our poem. We should observe first, that the canzone form consists of two parts, the opening one, or the fronte, and the closing one, called sirma, both with further division into piedi and volte. In Razzi’s composition the sirma starts with a repetition of the anaphora present in the fronte, in which this litanic reference was first proposed. As far as the melodic aspect is concerned, Razzi’s arrangement does not uphold the repetitive character of this invocation. At the same time, at the beginning of the sirma a slower rhythmical progression returns, after a segment transcribed mostly through quarter notes in the second piede (ll. 5–8) of the fronte. Thus, the anaphora seems underlined by the temporal values of the notes. Can such a “rhythmical” anaphora be related to any litanic purpose? It is possible. When observing the recurrence of the rhythmical mark, we find that a group of five quarter notes first appears in the fronte, and then is concentrated in the sirma. This reiteration links up some textual characteristics (l. 5, “ma non so cominciar,” which means “but I do not know how to begin”) and at the same time it is not related to the rhetorical structure of the poem. As a result, “Vergine bella” distinguishes the textual repetitions from that musical. In this particular case, we infer that the music clashes with the rhetorical design of the poem. We have analyzed certain musical aspects strictly associated with the text, but in a longer musicological study other, surprisingly repetitive, aspects of the canzone in Razzi’s arrangement could be expounded.

7.8 Conclusions As happened with other musical non-liturgical works of the Italian Middle Ages, the creations of the fifteenth-century composers have also been partially preserved to our times. As for the state of the art, the origin of Laudario giu­ stinianeo is not yet sufficiently clear, but according to Luisi, Giustinian would 264 Petrarch’s Songbook Rerum Vulgarium Fragmenta, trans. James Wyatt Cook (New York: Binghamton, 1995), 411–7. 265 Laudario giustinianeo II, 137–9, “a modo proprio.” Luisi publishes a second version by Razzi included in a Florentine manuscript, but the preserved, monodic tune concerns two initial lines only.

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elaborate on existing poems by adding to his collection a number of original laudas. Perhaps the collection was first preserved as an archive, and successively assembled in a codex attributed to Leonardo Giustinian by a younger promoter, maybe a descendant, who would have commissioned the manuscript in one of the city monasteries.266 As Luisi argues, the giustinianee became a musical genre in Venice in the late fifteenth century, so the occurrence of the name, even after the author’s death, can be due to this fact. As far as the lauda is concerned, the poems from the collection document two centuries of the development of the genre. The litanic strategies are not highly original, but they are evidence of a well-consolidated tradition when the time of textual innovations had ended, and the newest aspects are being developed in music. This certainly corresponds to the changing culture and needs of poets, composers, and the audience. In fact, studies on the historical context have shown that during the fifteenth century the musical art started developing quickly in Venice,267 leading the city, in less than a century, to become one of the most important European centers. Laudario giustinianeo and the reconstruction of its music is one of few surviving traces of this rising of a new age.

266 Cf. Laudario giustinianeo I, 23–30. 267 Cf. Glixon, “The Polyphonic Laude:” 19–20. The initial stages of the development of Venetian music are barely preserved.

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8 Between the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries We shall conclude our analysis of interactions between litanies and the genre of lauda with a short overview of two types of laudistic collections found at the turn of the sixteenth century. On one hand we have laudarios with a good number of genuine poems, which at least apparently are close to the pietas populi; on the other books of poetry and music, in which the former often is not original, and the latter can be original or borrowed from both aulic and popular tradition. We shall consider artistic experiments from Northern Italy, where the poetic lauda had a long and fruitful existence; Tuscany, from which came poets, composers and folk melodies used in the composition of laudas at that time; Rome, which was the center of a new spirituality related to the arising of the movement of Philip Neri; and Naples, where laudistic music was richly developed and collected. Certainly the lauda at that time was not an autonomous literary genre. Its scope was to help spiritual ascesis, and it was an object of musical elaboration.268 Existing matter was often recycled: Da essa scaturiva […] l’immediata disponibilità al riuso collettivo tipica di un genere di scrittura lirica finalizzata non al raggiungimento di autonomi fini artistici […], ma alla memoria retrospettiva di un percorso di ascesi personale.269

Starting from the fifteenth century, the genre of lauda had been evolving in the direction of prayer, within which rhythmic elements were relevant from the formal point of view, and didactic ones as far as the content was concerned. Danilo Zardin observes: […] canti e raccolte di poesia religiosa divennero il veicolo di una devozione che aveva la necessità di rivestirsi dei suoi tratti più umani per catturare il cuore e l’intelligenza anche dei semplici. Per insegnare «soavemente», si calava nel linguaggio dell’esperienza emotiva più elementare, facendo della capacità di autoidentificazione dell’individuo l’anima di una preghiera ritmata che modellava, con l’esercizio della stessa ripetizione

268 Both these aspects are operative in the lauda from its earliest stages. Cf. also Elisabetta Graziosi, “Scrivere in convento: devozione, encomio, persuasione nelle rime delle monache fra Cinque e Seicento,” in Donna, disciplina, creanza cristiana dal 15. al 17. secolo, ed. Gabriella Zarri (Rome: Edizioni di storia e letteratura, 1996), 303–4. 269 Ibid.

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insistita, la sua sensibilità e il suo temperamento etico, accompagnandolo nella vita di ogni giorno […].270

As for the musical aspect, starting from the early stages the lauda had been associated with the monodic chant, and could have been accompanied by instruments. We shall briefly mention Devotissime compositioni rhythmicae, a book of spiritual laudas which were widespread among the convents starting in the 1520s. The book went through several editions in Northern Italy during the sixteenth century. It was collected by anonymous Poor Clares in Bologna, at the convent of Corpus Domini.271 In Devotissime compositioni rhythmicae songs of praise are thought to accompany different moments of everyday life.272 In fact, there is a tone of simple and serene devotion. We note that in the conventual milieu during the mid-fifteenth century a notable woman emerged in the Franciscan cultural milieu. This was Catherine of Bologna (1414–1463),273 whose artistic work may have been central to the origins of the collection that is here being discussed. Catherine wrote a number of poetic laudas, which have recently been collected and published under her name. In these poems, there is a mystical experience which links them to the then two-hundred-year-old tradition of the lauda. Devotissime compositioni rhythmicae are marked by strong ties to the iacoponic-laudistic school.274 This is true also of Catherine’s laudario. From our point of view it is compatible with the laudario from Urbino, which has been discussed in the present part of our monograph. The heart of Devotissime compositioni rhythmicae consists of laudas by Catherine, who composed original poems, and those written by her imitators, as Zardin suggests.275 We shall analyze here two Catherine of Bologna’s laudas,276 which could have been written around the mid-fifteenth century. Generally, in her work both types of poems mentioned above are represented. The texts belong either to the

270 Danilo Zardin, “L’arte dell’apprendere «soave»,” in La lauda spirituale tra Cinque e Seicento, eds. Giancarlo Rostirolla, Danilo Zardin, and Oscar Mischiati (Rome: Ibimus, 2001), 698. 271 As Zardin claims. 272 Graziosi, “Scrivere in convento,” 307–8. 273 A saint and an abbess of the monastery of Poor Clares in Bologna. She was also a poet and illuminator of codices. 274 Zardin, 712. Zardin notes the presence of this aspect in Devotissime compositioni rhythmicae. 275 Ibid., 713. 276 The edition of Catherine of Bologna’s laudario contains texts only.

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jacoponic mystical school277 or are associated with the devotio populi. As for mysticism, Catherine’s laudas attain their prayer-like character thanks to modifications applied in the lexicon, while the structure recalls the tradition. This concerns litanic schemes as well. The mystical Betrothal, or Jesus-Love, in the second part of “Ihesu amore, crida tuto lo mondo”278 becomes Jesus himself, to whom a litanic prayer is addressed. This is of course an authored, original litanic prayer. Its internal subdivision is close to the model of the Marian litanies. We find interesting another lauda-litany, which also directly addresses Jesus. The organization of the poem helps to include an account of Jesus’ life in a general, litanic frame. “Ihesu da li propheti prophetiçato”279 is a rare poetic fragment which is inspired by the narrative parts of litanies. It is the only text which clearly represents a litanic-narrative type in poetry, that up to this moment we have found in Italian lyric production.280 Here is an excerpt (ll. 1–4; 34–37; 74–77): Ihesu da li propheti prophetiçato, Ihesu da l’angelo annuntiato, Ihesu dal cielo descesse in Maria. Ihesu visitò Iohane e Helisabeth, […] Ihesu recevete el tradimento da Iuda, Ihesu dalla madre se acomiatava. Ihesu cum li discipuli cenava, Ihesu li pedi alli discipuli lavava, […] Ihesu mandò lo Spirito sancto, Ihesu la madre assu[m]pse in cielo cum gloria. Ihesu al iudicio de’ venire E de nui misericordia deba avere.

Note that invocations without predicates, and sentences composed using different verbal tenses, are present in the poem: in it we find perfective and imperfect

277 Cf. e.g. “Lauda de Christo dolce amore.” Caterina Vigri, Laudi, trattati e lettere, ed. Silvia Serventi (Florence: Sismel Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2000), 30–1; “Lauda de natività de Christo dolce amore,” ibid., 14–5 (ll. 13–20); “Ihesu amore,” ibid., 38, which contains a litany (ll.11–22), which recalls that of Urbino (cf.). 278 Ibid., 38. 279 Ibid., 45–7. 280 Poems which include litanic-narrative technique are rare, but they exist. In these cases often a litanic framework is mixed with other discursive styles.

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past,281 and even a phrase which indicates the future. In fact, the lauda-litany which is here discussed not only relates facts, but also establishes a future order of events. Serafino Razzi of Marradi (1531–1614) was a Dominican monk, poet, composer, hagiographer, historian,282 and traveler, who in 1563 published a book of musical laudas for the contemplation of nuns and other pious persons, as the title says.283 The collection contains texts to which musical scores follow, while an introduction by Filippo Giunti reads: […] il Reu. P. Fra Serafino Razzi da Marradi, dell’ordine de’ nostri frati Predicatori […] raccolto un libro delle più belle antiche, e moderne [laudi], et aggiunto loro il modi di cantarle, lasciando quella sciocca maniera di dire: Cantasi come la tale, e come la quale.284

The laudas and music included in the collection are original, borrowed from the aulic tradition or folk chant. In order to give an example we may mention Petrarch’s “Vergine bella,”285 in a version for two voices. Together with laudas of famous poets, we also find poems by unknown authors, marked as “laude di authore incerto” (“lauda of uncertain author”). While the authorship of the texts is quite simple to verify, with the music there are several problems. We shall analyze here only one lauda from Razzi’s collection. The text was written by a noted figure of Renaissance Florence, a female poet, Lucrezia Tornabuoni.286 281 The events of the Passion are emphasized in the general framework of the poem using this verb tense. 282 He is the author of La storia di Raugia, a city in Dalmatia. 283 Fra Serafino Razzi, Libro primo delle laudi spirituali (Sala Bolognese: Forni, 1969). It is an anastatic copy of the original edition (the full text of the title page is: Libro Primo delle Lavdi Spirituali da diversi eccell. e divoti avtori, antichi e moderni composte. Le quali si vsano cantare in Firenze nelle Chiese doppo il Vespro ò la compieta à consolatione e trattenimento de’ diuoti serui di Dio. Con la propria Musica e modo di cantare ciascuna Laude, come si è vsato da gli antichi, et si vsa in Firenze. Raccolte dal R. P. Fra Serafino Razzi Fiorentino, dell’ordine de’ Frati Predicatori, à contemplatione delle Monache, & altre diuote persone. Nuouamente stampate. Con Priuilegii della Illustriss. Signoria di Venetia, & del Duca di Firenze, & di Siena. – In Venetia, ad instantia de’ Giunti di Firenze. 1563. – in 4°. (E in fine): Stampata in Venetia, per Francesco Rampazetto, ad instantia de gli heredi di Bernardo Giunti di Firenze. 1563). Following Giuseppe Vecchi, who reprints the laudario, Razzi was not “well versed in music.” Cf. “Premessa,” ibid., III. 284 Filippo Giunti, ibid., 3. 285 Ibid., 37. 286 Lucrezia Tornabuoni (1425–1482), who married Piero de Medici, was the mother of Lorenzo and Giuliano. In Razzi’s laudario her name is Lucrezia de’ Medici. The poem

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“Venite alme celeste” (“Come, heavenly souls”) is found in two musical versions, for two and three voices. The poem, which is inspired by a thirteenth-century tradition,287 contains litanic anaphoras associated with enumerative elements. Although the degree of anaphora in Tornabuoni’s lauda is not great high, the influence of litanies—in a rhetorical perspective—is clearly marked. Here is an excerpt (ll. 1–10; 14–15; 20–22):288 Ecco ’l Messia, ecco ’l Messia E la madre sua Maria. Venite alme celeste Su da gli eterni chori, Venite, e fate feste Al signore de signori Vengane et non dimori La somma Gerarchia. Ecco’l Messia Venite angeli santi, E uenite sonando Venite tutti quanti, […] Patriarchi uenite, Venite festeggiando […] Venitene uoi profeti Che hauete profetato, Venite tutti lieti,

It is worth noting that litanic anaphora either enumerates persons who are invited to come close to Mary and the Messiah or supports other types of phrases. The effect, a kind of litanic mark, derives from the first and is extended to the can be read in Lucrezia de’ Medici, Le laudi (Pistoia: Tipografia Flori, 1900), 1–3: “La sopradetta lauda si canta come Ben venga Maggio col gonfalon Selvaggio.” Blake Wilson writes: “it is worth considering for a moment how the new texts were conceived and worked out in relation to their models. Certainly purely literary considerations were in the foreground at times; a lauda might employ exactly the same rhyme words as its cantasi come text, paraphrase its incipit, or borrow (or subvert) elements of a model’s language, vocabulary or meaning […].” Wilson, “ ‘Transferring Tunes and Adjusting Lines’: Leonardo Giustinian and the Giustiliana in Quattrocento Florence:” 555. 287 For example, texts from the laudario from Cortona (“Venite a laudare”). Cf. Guar­nieri, Laudario di Cortona, 3–6. 288 Razzi, Libro primo, 16. There are slight differences between Razzi’s and de’ Medici’s versions.

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second type of anaphoric expression. The anadiplosis found in lines 14–15 is a subtle way of underlining the importance of reiterative expressions. The notation in Razzi’s book of laudas has to be interpreted, as all musical scores of that time do. Nevertheless, certain characteristics can be easily interpreted. Among them we can include the structure of melodic phrases. As is observable also in the quoted text, the lauda has a refrain, which is subdivided into two propositions. The versification is based on a quite regular seven-syllable, while the scheme of rhymes within the stanzas is ababbx. Now, such systematic composition is reflected in the organization of the parts for three voices, as the first and third, and second and fourth textual lines have the same melodic part to be repeated.289 In the text of the poem, the first and third lines bear the anaphoric repetitions. In this manner the melody underlines anaphoric-litanic passages in the first, second, and fourth stanzas. The same melody of the second and fourth lines imposes what can be considered a responsorial, musical answer to the aforementioned anaphora. This musical reiteration belongs partially to the genre of lauda, but it also imposes a litanic-like technique on the fifth to seventh stanzas, which do not contain anaphoric lines at a textual level. We note that the second melody for two voices manifests this type of organization as a general rule, too. Moreover, in the edition of Tornabuoni’s laudas there is a note which indicates the popular melody to which the poem can be sung.290 It seems that the lauda which is here being discussed and the poem pointed out as “cantasi come” do not have the same metrical structure. It is the only observation that can be made here, as in the absence of the score we cannot say whether the popular chant could contain repetitive passages or not. The last argument that we shall touch in this chapter is the concomitant presence of laudas and litanies in prayers and celebrations of the oratories of Philip Neri (1515–1595). This saint, called the “Apostle of Rome,” founded groups for street children and youths, which were later made into the Congregation of Saint Philip Neri. The groups, called oratories, soon spread across Italy. Beyond its Christian mission, from the artistic point of view this institution brought a renewal not only of the musical lauda, but of different aspects of extra-liturgical celebrations. In fact, Philip Neri had great sensibility in the matter of poetry and music, which accompanied the meetings of the Congregation of the Oratory. In these celebrations, litanies were present: 289 As was the practice, only the melody of the first stanza of the poem is given in the score. 290 It is a “cantasi come” indication. The song which is mentioned is entitled “Ben venga maggio col gonfalon selvaggio.” Cf. Tornabuoni, Le laudi.

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Anche per questo tipo di attività didattica e spirituale, che prevedeva una serie articolata di pii esercizi, in forma dialogica, fra maestro e fanciulli, recitazione collettiva di preghiere e litanie, si introdusse, quindi, presumibilmente tra gli anni Sessanta e Settanta del Cinquecento, e per probabile influenza oratoriana, la prassi di cantare all’inizio, e tra un esercizio e l’altro, laudi spirituali […].291

As we have seen, the musical aspect of the lauda, which had been part of the genre since the earliest stages of its development, during the fifteenth century acquired importance over the text. Gradually the spiritual lauda became a part of everyday, extra-liturgical prayer. The transformations of its function accompanied changing ways of composing the texts. Note that, as Rostirolla asserts, in the oratories sometimes even the catechism was used to compose laudas.292 The process took probably about two hundred years, but we observe a radical depletion of the poetic potential of the genre—the lauda ceased to be a means of poetic renewal. The genre is no longer an object of metrical innovations or experimentations. Its musical aspects are more developed on existing texts and music, for example from the Florentine tradition,293 as the laudario of Serafino Razzi shows. As far as musical creativity is concerned, the genre of lauda achieves high quality in the polyphony composed between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, while in the following period a simplifying trend can be observed, especially in the number of performers, and both number and shape of melodic lines.294 It is worth adding that the oratories offered a musical education,295 and many famous composers were involved in that cultural milieu. In Rome the Congregation of the Oratory was even a publisher of music. We shall mention here only one name, that of Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina,296 whose motets and spiritual hymns were performed during the celebrations of the Congregation of Philip Neri. The documents of this institution reveal that the chanting of laudas, together with litanies (especially the Marian ones), was included in the weekly program of masses and spiritual exercises. Polyphonic music was performed by

291 Giancarlo Rostirolla, “Aspetti di vita musicale religiosa nella chiesa e negli oratori dei Padri Filippini e Gesuiti di Napoli tra Cinque e Seicento, con particolare riguardo alla tradizione laudistica,” in La lauda spirituale tra Cinque e Seicento, 216. 292 Ibid., 216. 293 Ibid. 294 Ibid., 217. 295 Ibid., 227. 296 He is the author of several musical litanies. Some known composers grew in oratories, Rostirolla mentions Giovanni and Paolo Animuccia, Francesco Soto, and Giovanale Ancina.

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professional singers on solemn occasions,297 but it seems that generally simpler music was used. After the loss of its autonomous, poetic character, the genre of lauda, within which the musical aspect had more importance, survived in both special and daily devotion. A decline in the status of the genre, as well as in its art, are observable during this time. To complete our short overview, we may add that during the sixteenth-century expressions such as canzone spirituale298 or canzonetta299 come to be found in the field of sacred musical genres. The hymn is a common synonym for lauda between the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries too—all these definitions can be confused with the lauda.300 This shows how the specificity of the genre was reduced in that epoch, and how it was confused with components of other poetic and musical forms.

297 298 299 300

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Rostirolla, 233. Ibid., 236. Ibid., 243. Rostirolla quotes an anthology entitled Lodi et canzonette spirituali published in Naples in 1608. In the introduction a theoretical chapter is given, in which we read “Delle diverse maniere di Lodi, o Canzoni, et dell’ordine tenuto in disporle.” Ibid., 236–8. The expression “Lodi, o Canzoni” corresponds in a general way to the spiritual poetry.

9 Laudatory and Hymnic Poetry in the Heart of the Modern Era The literary history of the lauda stops at a certain point. As we have observed, the genre became more relevant in the history of music. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries it did not display further poetic evolution, while its musical evolution also slowed. We do not say that religious poetry ceased to exist at that time. We simply suggest that its importance for new epochs was less relevant. Authors chose other genres and searched for fresher formal techniques or for genres that were less burdened by tradition. Skipping over a few hundred years in the history of literature, we shall analyze a new, significant development that spiritual poetry underwent at the beginning of the nineteenth, and again at the beginning of the twentieth centuries. At a certain point, it could seem that the genre of lauda in some way had came to an end. The entire culture which had produced it was over, as thanks to the Napoleonic laws the last congregations of praise and penitence were abolished.301 Nevertheless, in nineteenth-century poetry the form of hymn was freshly reinterpreted by Alessandro Manzoni for both personal-spiritual and collective-civil purposes. Also in the later part of the century, these were the main claims of religious poetry. Spiritual lyric genres preserved relations with the spiritual root expressed in laudistic and litanic prayers; their formal side was an object of experimentation. In nineteenth-century poetry we find laudistic cycles addressing Christian receivers, but also the birth of an inverted spirituality, which produces, e.g., a prayer to Satan. A few decades later, at the beginning of the twentieth century, the genre of lauda was to be restored by Gabriele d’Annunzio. This was not a return to old formal solutions. D’Annunzio’s laudi realize attempts at founding a new, pagan religion, which is far from the Christian worldview. In the periods which we are going to discuss the laudistic genres can be highlighted or remain in background. A strong link with litanic techniques and qualities accompanies the rise of modern and contemporary spiritual poetry and concurrently links a long tradition, which is expressed in the history of the genre of lauda. We will start our analysis of nineteenth-century poetry by examining a circumscribed body of verse by three authors, who renewed a praising model 301 Many confraternites which had arisen during the Middle Ages were suppressed or completely changed their character in early modern times. The Bologna confraternity, for example, was abolished by the Napoleonic Code.

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inaugurated in Italian literature in the early thirteenth century. The form of the lauda, in fact, was related to the medieval, Latin tradition of hymnody,302 and one can suppose that it kept a certain lexical link with the latter. At the beginning of the nineteenth century Alessandro Manzoni, in his Inni sacri (Sacred hymns), recovered the ancient tradition of the hymn of praise. He either restored or introduced some interesting meters that had not been in use in recent Italian poetry, namely the octosyllable and the decasyllable. Manzoni worked out unusual stanzaic schemes too. His hymns, on the one hand, do not exactly adopt any pattern of the laudas from the medieval or following periods.303 On the other hand, both the originality of the compositions and their ideal connection with the roots of Italian poetry allow us to include Manzoni’s poetry in this chapter. In the following period both the stanzaic form and versification of the lauda were restored once again, often with no connection to the sacred arguments; in fact civil or historical subjects were privileged and appeared together with romantic influences from abroad.304 In the present chapter we will analyze a poem by Giosuè Carducci, who completely upends religious models in a prayer to Satan. Then we will come back to spiritual poetry, introducing Giovanni Camerana, considered a “minor” poet, who originally elaborated litanic references in his intense lyrical prayers.

9.1 “Sentiments grands, nobles, et humains”305 in Alessandro Manzoni Manzoni’s Inni sacri is a collection of religious poems. Manzoni’s initial intention was to celebrate, through a sequence of hymns, the most important moments 302 Cyrilla Barr dates the first confraternities of prayer back to the tenth century. Cf. Cyrilla Barr, The Monophonic Lauda and the Lay Religious Confraternities of Tuscany and Umbria in the late Middle Ages (Kalamazoo: Western Michigan University, 1988), 1–11. As we remember, the earliest written sources are much younger. 303 As we have seen, the lauda evolves by adopting different and always new forms. We do not mean strictly to link Manzoni’s hymns with the medieval lauda—the cultural situation has changed and religious poetry expresses a personal and non-collective spirituality. In this part of our study we are searching for traces of a modern poetical religiosity. 304 We may think about the form of the ballad in the nineteenth century. Cf. Guido Capovilla, “Occasioni arcaizzanti della forma poetica italiana fra otto e novecento: il ripristino della balata antica da Tommaseo a Saba,” in Metrica, 1(1978): 95–145. 305 In this sentence Manzoni summed up the feeling expressed in his Sacred Hymns after the publication of the collection in 1816, in a letter to his friend Fauriel.

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of the liturgical year, but he completed only five of the series. We chose this cycle for the present analysis because of its modern and spiritual nature. At the same time the hymns manifest an affinity with the noble form of ode, which is a problem discussed in the third chapter of our study. We will conclude that the praising hymnody306 annexes the most important genres, in order to conform its formal aspects to the poetics of any epoch. Their structures are modified under the influence of the Christian prayer—in the present monograph we are only taking into account the adaptation of the genres that depend on the use of the litany. The first hymn, “La Risurrezione,” (“The Resurrection”)307 is a joyful declaration of faith in the resurrection of Christ. Let us add that different rhetoricallitanic devices appear throughout the text, but are especially prominent in the opening two stanzas (ll. 1–14): È risorto: or come a morte La sua preda fu ritolta? Come ha vinte l’atre porte, Come è salvo un’altra volta Quei che giacque in forza altrui? Io lo giuro per Colui Che da’ morti il suscitò, È risorto: il capo santo Più non posa nel sudario; È risorto: dall’un canto Dell’avello solitario Sta il coperchio rovesciato: Come un forte inebriato Il Signor si risvegliò. Come a mezzo del cammino, […]

As one can see, there is a scanned initial expression, which becomes a litanic introduction also to the following stanza. A calibrated, litanic gait is achieved in the second stanza, in which the syntactic fragments are subjected to anaphoric repetition.308 We notice, then, another anaphoric order which opens with “come” Cf. Alessandro Manzoni, Tutte le poesie, ed. Giovanni Titta Rosa (Milan: Stamperia Capriolo&Massimo, 1959), 151. 306 The lauda is strictly related to the forms of hymnody. 307 Manzoni, Tutte le poesie, 155–60. 308 It closes the tenth stanza (l. 70); it appears also in l. 82. As for the pattern of the stresses, Manzoni’s octosyllable observes the medieval tradition. His meter has the third

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(“as,” ll. 3–4, 13, 15). It was also announced in the opening line of the poem. “Come” returns then in a pressing way by shaping the syllabic pattern of the lines309 and culminating with a reference to Dante, in part of the passage quoted. In Manzoni’s hymn a rested pilgrim in a calm wood constitutes a reference to Dante’s Commedia, an allusion in which the original situation from the Inferno is overturned thanks to the epithets.310 In lines 31–32, the announcement of the Resurrection is given by using a litanic anaphora together with an antonomasia: “il Signor le porte ha schiuse! / il Signor, l’Emmanuele” (“the Lord has opened the doors / the Lord Emmanuel”). It is present in a stanza which describes the time of the joyful event: “oggi è giorno di convito; / oggi esulta ogni persona” (“today is the day of feast; / today each person rejoices,” ll. 87–88),311 and in the final part of the poem (ll. 110–112, “Nel sentier che a morte guida? / Nel Signor chi si confida / Col Signor risorgerà,” “in the path that leads to death? / in the Lord who trusts / with the Lord will be resurrected”), in which a doubt, or question, is transformed into an affirmative sentence, i.e. the answer. The quoted passages, including the stanza that follows (i.e. the stanza containing a Marian chairetism), present the litanic anaphora in the third and fourth line. This particular metrical set concentrates the exultations, which are placed in a central position in order to highlight the formal inspiration of the hymn. Two noteworthy moments, in which the repetitions are developed in the following part of the hymn, are related to the litanic attributes. The first moment, concerning a descriptive list about the Resurrected, modulates three textual lines (ll. 39–42): Vecchi patri, egli è disceso: Il sospir del tempo antico, Il terror dell’inimico, Il promesso Vincitor.

Another fragment of the poem matches this structure (ll. 78–82): Dall’altar si mosse un grido: Godi, o Donna alma del cielo; Godi; il Dio cui fosti nido

syllable stressed as in Jacopone da Todi’s octosyllabic basis. The litanic inserts are adapted to the rhythmical pattern. Cf. Pietro Beltrami, La metrica italiana (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2011), 196–8. 309 The anaphora will come back at l. 45. 310 For Dante, in the wood where the direct path was lost, while Manzoni’s pilgrim is calm because he knows the right path. 311 As far as the pattern of the stresses is concerned, in the anaphoras, we find mostly a strong third syllable, which is canonical in octosyllabic verse.

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A vestirsi il nostro velo, È risorto, come il disse:

The litanic phrases based on praised attributes here refer to Christ and the Blessed Virgin, for whom the tradition of the joys of Mary is here recalled.312 However, original expressions are added in the first quoted section, which seem to be related to the models of the sixteenth-century spiritual and profane sonnet.313 The hymn is built up on a system of litanic rules. “La Risurrezione” is the first of the group of hymns written by Manzoni, and we could suppose that the other poems manifest a similar litanic structure. It should be emphasized that even the formal aspects are different in the five hymns. We will also see that the traces of the litany are less frequent in the other poems, in which these elements do not constitute the framework. Following the chronological order of the composition of texts, the second hymn is “Il nome di Maria” (“The name of Mary”).314 In its quatrains (three hendecasyllables with a closing seven-syllable line), starting from lines 37–38 a part shaped on a litanic rule begins: O Vergine, o Signora, o Tuttasanta, Che bei nomi ti serba ogni loquela!

The declaration is followed by scattered, litanic-anaphoric lines: E a Te beata, della sua immortale Alma gli affanni espone; A Te che i preghi ascolti e le querele, […] Tu pur, beata, un dì provasti il pianto; […] Salve, o degnata del secondo nome, O Rosa, o Stella ai periglianti scampo, Inclita come il sol terribil come Oste schierata in campo.315

ll. 51–53

l. 57 ll. 81–84

Naming the Blessed Virgin is the task of the litany par excellence. The antonomasia is one of the three constituent qualities of litanic prayer. In this case the 312 “Godi, o Donna” means “Joy, oh Lady.” An explicitly chairetismic repetition, typical of the litany, is operative too. 313 We remember Gaspara Stampa’s list praising her beloved in the sonnets. We recall also Vittoria Colonna’s extensive circumlocutions based on the litanic attributes. 314 Manzoni, Tutte le poesie, 161–4. 315 Ibid.

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fixed element is the pronoun “You.” The Virgin is described twice as “the blessed” and once as “[that one] who listens / answers the prayers.” In the opening and closing parts Mary is directly invoked. It is only at the end that the periphrastic resources are developed, amplifying the description of the Virgin through positive characters. At the same time, her terrible power is also acknowledged. In another hymn, “La Passione” (“The Passion”),316 we find the same type of conclusion. In addition, in the last octave there is an invocation that accompanies two attributes. They are not supported by any anaphoric structure: “E tu, Madre, che immota vedesti / Un tal Figlio morir sulla croce, / Per noi prega, o regina de’ mesti” (ll. 89–91). A similarly relevant opening can be found in “La Pentecoste” (“Pentecost”),317 in which circumlocutions based on the Marian attributes are used to define the early Church, before the descent of the Holy Spirit (ll. 1–4): Madre de’ Santi; immagine Della città superna; Del Sangue incorruttibile Conservatrice eterna;

Other long invocative phrases, which can be even longer than a single line, follow, as we observe in this excerpt (ll. 25–28): Compagna del suo gemito, Conscia de’ suoi misteri Tu, della sua vittoria Figlia immortal, dov’eri?

This hymn presents more than one addressee of the invocations, for example, the Church and the Spirit. The litanic calls are directed to the former, while for the latter other discursive models are used.318 Considering the whole cycle of hymns, which were written over a period of ten years, let us say that the litanic characteristics are weak between the first and last poems. We find few attributes or other references to litanic prayer, such as the formula “prega per noi,” in “La Passione” and in “La Risurrezione” (l. 83). Among the spiritual hymns of Manzoni we find one verse that presents a solid litanic construction. In the text that follows, some references are preserved randomly in a non-litanic frame. The most important effect achieved by Manzoni is the restoration of interest in the religious hymn in mainstream poetry. 316 Ibid., 171–5. 317 Ibid., 176–82. 318 Starting from l. 81. These parts resemble the parts of medieval hymns Veni creator Spiritus and Veni Sancte Spiritus.

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9.2  Giosuè Carducci’s Prayer to Satan During the 1860s, after the unification of the country, the political and cultural situation became more stable, and poets abandoned for a while the theme of engagement in order to broaden their horizons, meanwhile importing new, international literary trends. In 1864, Giosuè Carducci wrote a hymn which was first published independently and later included in the collection Levia gravia, published in 1886. The text was completed in 1865,319 while the definitive draft was prepared for the later edition in 1881. The hymn, like the entire collection, was published under a pseudonym, which is representative of the first stage of Carducci’s work from both the metrical and the ideological point of view. These two aspects of artistic experimentation are always associated in this author. In the early stages of his career he attached a pen name to a metrical “style,” and Enotrio Romano was an “iambic” poet. During the 1870s, Carducci explained why he was abandoning that poetics.320 His ideological choices, mirrored in his poetry, were related to his convictions concerning the political solutions for unified Italy.321 As the poet said in 1876: La mia gioventù fu tutta negli studi; e nella solitudine degli studi nacque, crebbe, si afforzò in me l’idea repubblicana. Il Sessanta mi lasciò democratico monarchico, il Sessantasette mi trovò repubblicano.322

Carducci was staunchly anti-clerical. This was perhaps the strongest attitude of the poet, one on which he never changed his mind. “Inno a Satana” (“Hymn to

319 In that year the six final stanzas were added. Cf. Renato della Torre, Invito alla lettura di Carducci (Milan: Mursia, 1985–1987), 81. 320 As Sergio Romagnoli summarizes, in the introduction to his Giambi ed epodi (1867– 1872, final ed.: 1882) Giosuè Carducci “esponeva i motivi interni per cui, pur non rinnegando affatto i suoi giambi, li aveva interrotti ed anzi, definitivamente li aveva chiusi; sono per lui motivi validissimi e, per l’esperienza che ne promana, validi per ogni cantore.” As Fausto Curi quotes, Carducci defined his “iambic and epodic” poetry as a period of life. Cf. Sergio Romagnoli, “Carducci giambico,” in Carducci poeta. Atti di Convegno, ed. Umberto Carpi (Pisa: Giardini, 1987), 389. 321 “[…] con la rivendicazione di Roma all’Italia comunque andasse, il supremo ideale della mia politica nazionale fu raggiunto […].”—see the introduction to the book of Giambi ed edpodi, 1882 quoted in ibid., 388. Although this statement could be plausible in the 1880s, previously Carducci had been an anti-monarchy supporter of Garibaldi. 322 From a campaign speech to the electors of Lugo. Cf. Eugenio Garin, “Giosue Carducci fra cultura e politica,” in Carducci poeta, XIX.

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Satan”) was written in 1863 to engage in controversy with the Vatican Council323 and express a “faith in Nature and Reason.”324 The audacious ideas of the author— related to the political-cultural campaign in the spirit of the social Garibaldian movement for the secular and democratic awareness of the nation325—were discussed and criticized for years. In the meantime Carducci, having been a moral supporter of political and social revolutions,326 became a sober-minded bard of the reality of the Kingdom of Italy. “Inno a Satana” is a sign of spiritual rebellion. In its formal aspect, the hymn restores an ancient form of toast. Renato della Torre argues: Il poeta fa un brindisi a satana […]; esso con buona pace del clero rivive più che mai nel mondo e anche nel buon vino ristoratore; era onorato nell’antichità, e nel Medioevo furoreggiò con le streghe, i maghi, gli alchimisti, e per lui subirono persecuzioni e violenze il filosofo francese Pietro Abelardo, Arnaldo da Brescia, fra Girolamo Savonarola, Martin Lutero. Perciò oggi in suo nome si liberi il pensiero umano, e trionfi la materia: simbolo di Satana-progresso è la locomotiva che corre per tutta la terra.327

Even if in 1881 Carducci himself expressed a negative opinion of his early poetical language, the modern character of the hymn is now recognized.328 From the litanic point of view, we find relevant the invocation and the praise, with chairetismic elements addressed to Satan, which symbolizes progress, freedom of ideas and anti-conformism. The model of Charles Baudelaire is naturally a relevant precedent, but only respecting the idea of praying to Satan. There are no conceptual or formal parallelisms, and the versification is distinct too. Let us quote

323 But the hymn was first published in 1865 with the anti-Christian dating, “year 2618 from the foundation of Rome.” Cf. Umberto Carpi, Carducci. Politica e poesia (Pisa: Edizioni della Normale, 2010), 43–4; Giosuè Carducci, Tutte le poesie, ed. Carlo del Grande (Basiano: Bietti, 1973), 375. 324 Between 1869 and 1870, to defend his hymn, in a polemic letter to Quirico Filopanti, Carducci put in some lines which use the litanic tecnique: “Satana è il pensiero che vola, Satana è la scienza che esperimenta, Satana il cuore che avvampa, Satana la fronte su cui è scritto: Non mi abbasso.” Cf. Giosue Carducci, Satana e polemiche sataniche (Bologna: Zanichelli, 1882). 325 Carpi, Carducci, 48. 326 In 1862 he wrote an ode for the revolution in Greece; in 1863 he defined as sacred the insurrection in Poland. In the same period he hoped for a social revolution across Europe. Cf. Mario Biagini, Il poeta della terza Italia (Milan: Mursia, 1961), 139. 327 Della Torre, Invito alla lettura di Carducci, 82. Carducci found inspiration in both the materialist Proudhon and the anti-clerical Michelet. 328 Della Torre, Invito alla lettura di Carducci, 83.

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a few passages from the hymn,329 searching for the litanic elements that seem to construct a complex system within the poem. We will start with the praising antonomasias through which Satan is addressed (ll. 1–4):330 A te, del l’essere Principio immenso, Materia e spirito, Ragione e senso;

The arrangement of the lines supports the enumeration of the attributes of Satan. From a lexical point of view, the first three lines recall the language of the praise of God which we have observed for example in the medieval laudas. In the entire poem the enumeratio, which here is exposed directly, is used several times. The praising invocations are expressed, for example, in the form of a direct salutation which draws attention to the biblical and Marian references. In the penultimate stanza we read (ll. 193–196): Salute, o Satana, O ribellione, O forza vindice De la ragione!

The same litanic rule of the listed attributes works also in the parts that are not a dialogue with the addressee, but a description of a landscape (ll. 33–36): Meteore pallide, Pianeti spenti, Piovono gli angeli Da i firmamenti.

The poem doesn’t only manifest a religious discourse à rebours. We observe that the high frequency of litanic-anaphoric lines makes for a quick gait in the reading of the poem. Some of them pursue the aim of praise, as in lines 39–40, in which we read “Re de i fenomeni, / Re de le forme” (“King of the phenomena, / King of the forms”) Others decry popes and cruel kings (ll. 60–62): Sfidando il dio De’ rei pontefici, de’ re cruenti;

329 The poem numbers 50 quatrains and is composed of five-syllables. 330 Carducci, Tutte le poesie, 376–87.

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Among the chairetismic salutations we find the direct call “A te” (“To you”),331 which appears as the anaphora in the opening of a sequence of stanzas. This operation allows the poet to unify the different topics that occur in the poem. An interesting parallelism is created thanks to the litanic anaphora followed by two elements that should be interpreted as synonyms (ll. 161–164): Gittò la tonaca Martin Lutero; Gitta i tuoi vincoli, Uman pensiero,

The monk’s habit, which Luther stopped wearing (ll. 161–161), is here associated with the lack of freedom of ideas, which should be overcome by the human mind. In the last part of the hymn, which was completed some years after first publication, the anaphoric effect is concentrated. At the same time, a hurtling locomotive is used as a symbol of Satan. The effect of speed is achieved by litanic anaphora (ll. 169–172; 177–180): Un bello e orribile Mostro si sferra, Corre gli oceani, Corre la terra: […] Sorvola i baratri; Poi si nasconde Per antri incogniti, Per vie profonde;

Some scholars have spoken about an intuitive rebellion by the poet.332 It is worth noting that he puts modern ideas in the form of modern, pressing versification. It is interesting that at the same time he recovers an ancient Latin genre. We remember, of course, that experimentation in meters is a constant of Carducci’s poetry. In the hymn the ironic and subversive element is associated with the litanic versification and other metrical references to the tradition. The proparoxytone five-syllable verse, which is used for the first and third line of each stanza,333

331 Together with its declined form “Te / Tu.” 332 See the editor’s note in Carducci, Tutte le poesie, 375–6. We remember that the author, after less than 20 years, condemned his own poem. 333 We have a few exceptions in the entire text.

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recalls the early tradition of the lauda,334 and this metrical aspect enriches the allusions to a spiritual and highly litanic form.

9.3  Oropa and “oropee:” The Poetry of Giovanni Camerana In the poetry of Giovanni Camerana we find a group of texts which represent the personal religious sentiment of their author. The cycle of Oropa recalls Came­rana’s trip to a Marian sanctuary in the Alps.335 We may add that Camerana was not a fervent Catholic, but this particular collection is consecrated to the statue of the Black Madonna. Among his many praising poems we find a poetical litany, “Per il quadro di Lorenzo Delleani «In montibus sanctis»” (“On a painting by Lorenzo Delleani «In montibus sanctis»”).336 Let us read this brief text and reflect on its litanic elements: Prega per noi, tornanti alla profonda Valle, al natío villaggio pastoral; Prega per noi, tu negra come l’onda Del lago alto e brumal, Negra, ma bella. Prega per noi, Maria, figlia di Sòlima, Per noi tornanti dal tuo queto altar; Tu Regina, tu mite alba, tu stella Delle rupi e del mar, Tu negra e bella.

The traditional, litanic formula “prega per noi” (“pray for us”) occupies a relevant, anaphoric position. It is placed in lines 1, 3, 6, and 7, though in the seventh line it is modified. The formula puts a heavy stress on the fourth syllable, even in its variation. As one can observe, the canonical versification is maintained throughout the poem, as lines 4–5 and 9–10 comprise hendecasyllables divided into two parts. Moreover, the typographical lines 5 and 10 introduce another formula, which contains a slight variation, but accomplish its litanic task in a clear way. The first invocation is associated with an auto-description of the subject similar to that included in the Ave Maria (“prega per noi peccatori,”337 “pray

334 Carducci as a scholar studied the period of the Origins of the Trecento epoch. He published an edition of a group of laudas from the Cadore region. 335 The Oropa Sanctuary is in the Piedmont. 336 Giovanni Camerana, Poesie, ed. Gilberto Finzi (Turin: Einaudi, 1968), 54. 337 “Lasciami prosternato al suolo, nella” is a sonnet by Camerana in which the Ave Maria is partially thematicized. Cf. Ibid., 60.

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for us sinners;” “prega per noi tornanti alla (dal),” “pray for us who come back to (from);” ll. 1, 7). As far as the sources of the Marian expressions are concerned, in lines 8–11 a sequence of attributes shape the enumeration. We find here both traditional antonomasias, such as “You Queen,” and intense, lyrical descriptions of the receiver, such as “you mild dawning” (l. 8) and “you black as the wave / of the high and hazy lake” (ll. 3–4). Then a tradition and the original expression is synthesized in the sentence, “You, star / of the rocks and sea” (ll. 8–9). In the following part of the Oropa collection we find a paraphrase of Dante’s incipit from the Inferno. We refer here to the anaphoric lines that begin “Canto III.” Overturning the original semantics, Camerana shapes his praise on that model in “Per il quadro «Sulla Via Sacra» di Lorenzo Delleani” (“On a painting entitled «On the Via Sacra» by Lorenzo Delleani”):338 Per me si va nel Santuario, al trono Silenzïoso tuo, tricoronata Dei gementi Regina e del perdono; Per me si va dove si oblía la irata Pugna, e tacciono i tuoni e la bufera; Per me si va nella città beata; Per me ascendesi al ciel della preghiera.

Dante’s litanic anaphora is extended and decompressed, so to say, while the formal rules of the terza rima are preserved. While Dante was going toward the gate of hell, in Camerana’s poem one can reach the Sanctuary, the “blessed city” and the “heaven of prayer.” Let us observe that the complex phrases that describe the Virgin recall the rich litanies from Venice. In Camerana’s poem they are built up on an enjambment (“three times crowned / of the groaning Queen, and of the pardon,” ll. 2–3). We observe the hendecasyllabic frame, which is clearly too rigid for Camerana. The canonical verse line is overrun or shortened. This increases the importance of the anaphoric elements. At the same time they create, and then condense, a strong, litanic gait. An interesting parallelism is created starting from the first stanza, in which the silence and the consolatory character of the sanctuary are described. It continues after the second litanic opening, which tells of the storm on the way to the sanctuary. As we can see, both the peace of the soul and the thunder of a spiritual journey merge, thanks to the litanic anaphora.

338 Ibid., 59.

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In Camerana’s Oropa we find further texts that likewise manifest a litanic nature. “Strofe all’Idolo” (“Stanzas to the Idol”)339 adopts the litany as a topic340 and at the same time proposes a litanic verse, which prevails in the second part of the poem. The poem is written in fourteen quatrains, and opens with the solitary figure of Love who prays to an idol close to the sanctuary of the Black Madonna in the high mountains. A parallelism is achieved between a human sentiment, the spiritual dimension, and the capacity to pray, which is ascribed to nature. In the fifth stanza, an anaphoric repetition appears and the argument of the litany becomes explicit (ll. 17–22): Ma nel tuo nimbo d’oro e di topazii, Ma dalla gemmea nicchia secolar, Tu ascolti, o nera e scintillante Vergine, Imperturbata, il pio litanïar; Il pio litanïar dei supplichevoli Che dai monti e dal pian traggono a te;

The anaphora is here a polysyndeton, but in the following part other litanic openings of lines are proposed. The double “Pur già” (“Yet”) is limited to two lines (ll. 29–30), while the invocation to the addressee (“A te,” “To you”) comes back cyclically in lines 33, 37 and 55–56. It also ends the entire poem. The shape of three of the fourteen stanzas is given by the preposition “da” (“from”) in its different declined forms. Let us read a short sample (ll. 41–44): Dai nodi a te delle giganti quercie, Dai sacri germi del possente april, Dal tenebror di tutte le voragini, Dal vasto scintillio primaveril,

Two stanzas follow, in which other elements and phenomena are enumerated in a perfect correspondence between the lines and the litanic anaphora. In lines 46–47, the anaphora is inverted and slightly modified (“Sui cozzanti marosi, dal fiorir / Delle siepi, dai tesi aperti calici,” “On the pounding breakers, from the blossoming / fences, from the stretched, open cups”). A free interpretation of the litanic components that we find in many other poems emerges at different points in the text. In fact, in “Strofe all’Idolo” we observe an attempt to adapt the metrical habits to a solid but too rigid model. The listed parts, which exist in the wild or

339 Ibid., 191–2. 340 After “Le necrologie” by Arnaldo Fusinato, which is analyzed in the chapter dedicated to the canzonetta form.

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represent it in an abstract manner (the howling forests, the precipices, the silence of the solitudes, the rumbling, the blossoming of the hedge, the open flower-cups, the germinal strength), and are stretched towards the Idol—which is capitalized in line 50—work as if they were the praising attributes of a litany. The majesty of the enumerated elements also contributes to the global litanic effect. The litanic anaphora is explicit in “Avvenire” (“Future”)341 a love poem, which does not link up with the tradition of religious poetry. In this poem we have more local formulas, limited to single stanzas. As we read in the passage that follows, only in the second line of each unit does the anaphora allow the text to continue. Let us read the opening and closing stanzas (ll. 1–4; 21–24): Tu rivedrai Tu rivedrai quelle vaghe foreste O mia colomba, sí care al pensier, Sí quete e meste. […] E spesso a te E spesso a te voleranno i miei carmi A sussurrarti d’intorno cosí: «Non obliarmi!…»

The invocation that opens the third line of the poem reveals a noble addressee also because of its symbolism: the dove evokes both the love and the spiritual connotations. In fact, the promise is given to an interlocutor for a future in which the sender will not be present, a moment in which he will be dead. The songs (“i miei carmi,” l. 22) of the poet will remain in the material world to be heard by the beloved. This makes almost religious the nature of this poem, which combines love, literary and spiritual discourses. We also notice the syllabic pattern that accompanies the anaphoras, with the stress on the fourth syllable342 which is the only metrical rule to be observed in the lines that open the stanzas of the poem. In a similar way other poems by Camerana include some litanic qualities, even if we are dealing only with connotative elements. A text can have a profane nature while its either metrical or semantic elements are related to the sphere of sacrum. One example is “Pax,”343 a poem with short, anaphoric sequences of quatrains in which the desire to die is expressed. The Latin title and its connotation of the epitaph together with the litanic anaphora contribute to keeping the 341 Camerana, Poesie, 88. 342 The poem opens with an apocopated five-syllable, so the stress on the fourth syllable is compulsory. In this case it is the fourth syllable which closes the line.. 343 Camerana, Poesie, 89.

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tone of the poem solemn. In “Ad sepultam”344 an anaphora that opens the first lines then assumes a stanzaic frequency. The litanic quality is here expressed in the form of invocations (ll. 26–30): O pallida vergine, O mite figura, O piena di grazie Gentil creatura, O piena di balsami Vïola gentil;345

To conclude this part on a poet who did not write a large number of poems, but who influenced important writers of the twentieth century,346 we can say that in Camerana’s poetry a high rate of repetitive and invocative elements emerges. We should say that the metrics of Camerana’s spiritual poetry is less innovative than that of his sonnets, which we have analyzed in the second chapter of the present book. His religious poems obey the tradition, while his sonnets aim to break or avoid the rules of the canonical Italian meters. Also the character of the verses that we have examined in this part, which maintain a balance between the profane and spiritual desire,347 fosters the potential of different prayers together with that of the litany. The litanic references, in both the language and the versification, support the deeply exploited Christian trend that distinguishes Camerana’s poetry from more superficial religious references of other exponents of the scapigliatura and decadence movement.

344 Ibid., 99. The poem is composed of three metrically different forms that alternate several times in the text. In fact, the character of praise is here preserved as a semantic stratum. 345 The metaphors used to invoke the beloved are typically Marian (pansy, or violet, balsam, graceful, virgin). 346 Cf. Michele Dell’Aquila, La poesia di Camerana (Bari: Adriatica, 1968). 347 Piero Nardi speaks about Camerana’s striving for the light in the Oropa collection and his presentiment of the shadow in Rovine (the paraphrase is mine), an observation which could allude to the suicide of the poet. Cf. Piero Nardi, Scapigliatura. Da Giuseppe Rovani a Carlo Dossi (Milan: Mondadori, 1968), 185.

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10 D’Annunzio’s Laudistic Experiment at the Turn of the Twentieth Century In the last chapter of the present part of our monograph, we shall analyze an ambitious laudistic project which was carried out between the last years of the nineteenth and the opening decade of the twentieth centuries.348 Between 1896 and 1912349 Gabriele d’Annunzio composed and published a collection of four books of laudas. D’Annunzio was a prolific writer of both poetry and prose as well as an extraordinary personality in the cultural and social life of his epoch, an aristocrat for the masses or a mass aristocrat, as someone once described him.350 It is agreed that d’Annunzio’s works strongly influenced the poetry of the twentieth century starting soon after their publication. Among the books of laudas,

348 Giosuè Carducci was also interested in laudas. In his early collections he sometimes adopted the form of ballad, the “major” type, which is close to that of the thirteenthcentury poet Guittone d’Arezzo and certain exponents of the Stilnovo poetry. Considering for example “Rosa e fanciulla” (from the collection Rime nuove, first ed. 1887), we note traces of litanic antonomasias accompanied by a triple repetition. Reading his “Lauda spirituale” (from the collection Juvenilia, final ed. 1880) we do not find litanic qualities. Cf. also Guido Capovilla, “La ballata antica nell’800 e ‘900 italiano.” In the collection Isotteo d’Annunzio included a number of those “major” ballads too. Cf. Capovilla, “La ballata:” 129, 137. As Capovilla notes, Sergio Corazzini also wrote ballads influenced by the nineteenth-century model. We may add that Corazzini composed a lauda-ballad based on the thirteenth-century model. It is entitled “A Gino Calza” (published in the collection Piccolo libro inutile, ed. 1906); Cf. Sergio Corazzini, Poesie (Milan: BUR, 1999), 185–6. The poem presents the rhyme pattern aaax bbbx, etc. (without a refrain). The poem is composed in octosyllables. The archaizing inspiration is also found in an attempt to create a trochaic rhythmical scheme, although it does not involve all the lines of the poem. An interesting feature is the form of dialogue between the subject and the addressee (a “brother,” secondperson singular) in the first five stanzas. 349 In 1896, the journal “Convito” published “Alle montagne” the first poem later to be included in Laudi (Elettra). Cf. “Cronologia,” in Gabriele d’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria I, eds. Annamaria Andreoli and Niva Lorenzini (Milan: Mondadori, 1982), CXL. Our brief analysis also includes a book of songs, Canti della guerra latina, which was originally composed as a further book of laudas devoted to Asterope. 350 Pietro Gibellini, Logos e mythos. Studi su Gabriele d’Annunzio (Florence: Olschki, 1985), 6. This description may help us to understand the popularity of d’Annunzio in the social and cultural context of his epoch.

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Alcyone was the most read, imitated, and reworked by the following generations of poets.351 The title of the entire collection is Laudi del cielo, del mare, della terra, degli eroi.352 We chose to analyze this monumental work here for several reasons.353 D’Annunzio’s aim is not to restore the lauda of the previous epochs; rather, he experiments with the formal and semantic tradition of the genre in order to create a highly original work. D’Annunzio does not write spiritual or religious poems—his topics are praise of nature, classical tradition, and heroes. Under such circumstances, even if we acknowledge that the lauda had always been a flexible genre, which, to renew itself, easily incorporated different poetical forms, we should conclude that d’Annunzio’s Laudi del cielo…354 both are and are not laudas. Among his books of laudas different forms of ode, ballad, poem in terza rima, sonnet, sirventes, prayer, short and very long verse are exploited. These forms are often distorted. Certain aspects are archaizing; others avoid existing rules of composition to follow new criteria which are established ad hoc. The literary sources of d’Annunzio have been thoroughly examined by different scholars, including their formal associations with medieval laudas. Moreover, especially in Maia, which is the first book of the collection, we find several

351 Our opinion is based on studies of the influence of d’Annunzio’s poetry, e.g. Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento: da D’Annunzio a Montale (Milan: Feltrinelli, 1975), 190–216. 352 D’Annunzio’s collection seems to be the last monumental laudistic project in the history of Italian poetry. In 1907, Corrado Govoni included a song of praise entitled “Laus” (an eight-line poem subdivided into two quatrains with the rhyme scheme abab cdcd) in his collection Gli aborti. 353 In 1903 Guido Gozzano, a poet who was at that time influenced by d’Annunzio’s poetry, wrote “Laus matris,” in which the Franciscan spirit (“Laudata sii”), an invocational structure and a wealth of attributes are found. From a formal point of view the short verse recalls d’Annunzio’s laudas. The object of praise is the mother of the poet, who is invoked with a series of Marian attributes, such as “Laudata per l’amore –/ […] / O Rosa adamantina, / invitta a la ruina, / invitta a lo sfacelo / […] / Più che la laboriosa / femina dell’Ebreo, / Madre del Galileo, / o Madre mia dogliosa / voglio esaltarti. Voglio” Cf. Guido Gozzano, Opere, ed. Giusi Baldissone (Turin: Utet, 2010), 259–61, lines 25, 30–32, 37–41. In the opening, we note references to Jacopone da Todi’s “Donna de Paradiso” too. We also find the blended use of the canonical attributes of the Virgin Mary, together with new expressions that testify to an acquaintance with the model that permits original elaboration. 354 From now on we will use this form to refer to the title of the entire collection.

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references to the Franciscan discourse.355 This is a long, non-Christian poem356 which exploits religious rhetoric and language without concealing its discursive model.357 D’Annunzio is searching for new, secular myths358 which would reflect the rich, pantheistic, and pagan—and not always coherent—spirituality of his subject, who is trying to found a new religion which cannot be practiced or imitated by anyone else.359 Some elements of praise developed out of the antiChristian model that Carducci expressed in Ode barbare. Finally, in the private mythology of the author, which prepares for the Laudi del cielo…, there is also a sea voyage to Greece—“towards Hellas the Holy” “towards the origin and the depth of the myth”360—together with a journey through Umbria, to Franciscan sites. According to the poet, the Mediterranean world was a direct inspiration for the creation of his laudatory poems. Before starting the analysis, we shall briefly present the origins and the chronology of the collection. In 1899 d’Annunzio announced his intention to publish seven books of laudas, describing them as […] nuova arte fatta in gloria della natura, che gli antichi avranno insegnato a ritrovare.361

355 In a manuscript from 1899 d’Annunzio wrote, “Incipiunt Laudes / creaturarum quas fecit / Gabriel Nuncius […].” The incipit is calqued on Francis of Assisi’s lauda, as it had recently been published (1889) in an anthology of the poetry of the epoch of Origins, edited by Ernesto Monaci. Cf. Franco Gavazzeni, Le sinopie di “Alcyone” (Milan–Naples: Ricciardi, 1980), 55. 356 D’Annunzio often expresses anti-Christian attitudes. For this and other reasons many of his works are included in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum of the Church of Rome. Maia numbers 8400 lines. Cf. “Note,” in Gabriele d’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, eds. Annamaria Andreoli and Niva Lorenzini (Milan, Mondadori, 1984), 876. 357 This is one of the differences between Carducci and d’Annunzio. There are other questions, for example, in his poetry d’Annunzio does not offer any political program. 358 Luciano Anceschi, “Introduzione,” in d’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria I, LXXIX. 359 D’Annunzio is known for his goal (or slogan) of the inimitable life—in his view the life of an artist should be extraordinary. Throughout his life d’Annunzio carefully created a kind of personal mythology. 360 Carmine Chiodo, Di alcuni miti dannunziani delle Laudi (Rome: Vecchiarelli Editore, 1999), 14, 11. 361 Cf. “Cronologia,” Versi d’amore e di gloria I, CXLI–II.

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At an early stage, the author planned a unified book without internal subdivisions.362 After May 1902, the project was certainly related to the Pleiades.363 It would remain unfinished, as during d’Annunzio’s lifetime only five books of Laudi del cielo… appeared: Maia (1903), Elettra (1904), Alcyone (1903), and Merope (1911–12). The last part, Canti della guerra latina, was published in 1918. In the present chapter we will mainly examine the books Elettra and Alcyone. The analysis of these two parts of the Laudi del cielo… is important, because they represent both the research into and the achievement of new poetical forms.364 Together with some very short passages from Merope, the books Maia and Canti della guerra latina will be briefly considered too. These differ from one another in certain aspects: Maia is a very long poem365 and from a certain perspective it does not suit the criteria of the present monograph; the Canti della guerra latina have less to do with the topics of the other books. For Maia, especially, we may speak about an attempt to find a “secular sacrality for a desacralized poetry.”366 D’Annunzio himself spoke about a logaoedic verse for Laus vitae, which is the subtitle of Maia.367 To start our analysis, we can stress that the language of Christian liturgy and prayer is strongly present in d’Annuzio’s Laudi del cielo… It stands out in some way and accentuates the goal of realizing a new spiritual discourse, which suits a modern artist, a Nietzschean superior man. Moreover, we often find specific references to the medieval sacred genres, such as lauda or litany. It is worth noticing that formulas from both the mass and litany are directly quoted, for example in “La canzone del sacramento,”368 a terza rima in the middle of which parts such as “Introibo ad altare Dei,” “Kyrie eleison,” “Christe Eleison,” and “Agnus Dei” are 362 Gavazzeni, Le sinopie, 2. 363 Under the title Alle Pleiadi. Ibid., 58. 364 “Note,” 877. 365 “Quanto a Maia, tra le Laudi, essa sta veramente a sé, certo è un libro diverso, d’Annunzio stesso in certi progetti editoriali che non ebbero esiti avvicinò Alcyone ad altre raccolte, e non a Maia; […].” Cf. Anceschi, “Introduzione,” LXXXVI–VII. As one scholar argues, certain fragments of Maia are based on the medieval hymnody and the Notkerian sequences. Cf. “Note,” 889. 366 “Introduzione,” LXXXIX. 367 “Note,” 903. 368 The poem is included in Merope. Cf.  D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 661–8. The quotation marks point out a litany preserved in certain manuscripts related to the story of the galleys. The text can be found, for example, in Antonio Ive “Una litania geografica italiana del Medio Evo,” Bollettino della Società geografica italiana 48(1914): 1315–37.

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inserted. Merope includes another verse composed on the same Dantean scheme, “La canzone d’oltremare,”369 which closes with a quotation from a medieval litany of Tuscan sailors (ll. 151–157): «Dienai’, Dienai’ e ’l Signor nostro! Dienai’, Dienai’ e ’l San Sepolcro» Cantava la galèa sul Mare Nostro. Nel croscio de’ tuoi secoli io t’ascolto. «Dienai’, Die n’aìti in mare e in terra!» Alza nel grido il tuo raggiato vólto, e in terra e in mare tieni la tua guerra.

10.1  Alcyone Turning to Alcyone, to open our analysis we may quote “La sera fiesolana,”370 the earliest poem written for this book, which is infused with the Franciscan spirit experienced by d’Annunzio in Umbria. The form is a ballad composed of three fourteen-line stanzas371 alternating with three-line refrains in which the eve­ ning is praised. The refrains start with hendecasyllables with a built-in formula, “Laudata sii pel/per” (“Be praised for”). The poem includes other elements of Franciscan language, such as the expression “e su gli olivi, su i fratelli olivi” (l. 29: “and on the olive trees, on the brothers olive trees”).372 D’Annunzio enriched the text both in rhymes and in assonances,373 a device which helps to archaize the stylistics of the ballad.374 The structure contrasts bipartite stanzas with tripartite refrains. The pattern of stress (on the second and fourth syllables) of the formula corresponds to the iambic opening of several laudas which have been analyzed 369 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 647–52. 370 Ibid., 429–30. 371 As Gavazzeni argues, the internal schemes are known from both canzone and sonnet. Gavazzeni, Le sinopie, 25–7. 372 The olive tree is also found among the praising attributes of the Blessed Virgin, for example in the lauda Rayna possentissima, which is analyzed in the present monograph. 373 We remember that in the Italian system it is meant as an imperfect rhyme only referable to the final syllable of the lines. 374 “[…] è ancora possibile affermare che il dato tecnico di maggiore spicco formale nell’assicurare al testo in questione il coesivo di una patina arcaizzante, vale a dire l’assonanza, oltre, o, per dir meglio, insieme al più ampio disegno delle Laudi, nasce appunto dal proposito di intonare l’ora fiesolana sulle note del ‘salmo’ francescano.” Gavazzeni, Le sinopie, 22.

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in the present part of our monograph. The refrain is of three lines. It lays stress on the second syllable against the opening hendecasyllables of the stanzas—two out of three of them have the stress on the first syllable. The poem which precedes—its title is “Lungo l’Affrico”375—is likewise a praise of evening. Although it is called an ode, the scheme of rhymes of both opening and closing lines recalls that of the ballad or the canzone of the epoch of Origins (abcabccdde376). In the opening a profane addressee is invoked through a prayer-like attribute “Grazia del ciel” (l. 1: “Grace of the heaven”). The reader will discover that together with other spiritual values (i.a. peace, chastity) the praise also accompanies the invocation to the rising moon (l. 11). The cycle of praise continues in “L’ulivo”377 and “La spica.”378 The former is written in unrhymed quatrains,379 in which the morning is praised (ll. 1, 9–10): Laudato sia l’ulivo nel mattino! […] Esili foglie, magri rami, cavo tronco, distorte barbe, piccol frutto,

Once again a Franciscan opening,380 which is related to the description of the olive tree, is realized in the form of a list of attributes, as we observe in the last part. As one might expect, the versification has nothing to do with the medieval ballad. In fact, the emphasis, the enjambment, and even the regular versification belong to the nineteenth century. The following poem, “La spica,” is composed of ten-line stanzas with one rhyme within each stanza (between the sixth and the tenth line of each stanza). It is worth noting the opening praise of noon, the enumeration, and the anaphora (ll. 1–10):

375 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 427–8. The subtitle is: “Nella sera di giugno dopo la pioggia.” 376 Cf. also Beltrami, La metrica italiana, 285–6. Neither “La sera fiesolana” nor “Lungo l’Affrico” present the common rhyme which ties together all the last lines of the stanzas. The latter is not provided with a refrain. In the closing stanza the c rhyme is not perfect in this position. Starting in 1905 d’Annunzio described this poem as an ode, but actually it is modeled on both canzone and ballad. Cf. Gavazzeni, Le sinopie, 32. 377 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 431–2. 378 Ibid., 433–5. 379 We note a rare case of repetition of the same word at the end of more lines (“l’ulivo,” ll. 8, 23; “Vittoria,” ll. 25, 33; “l’aria,” ll. 5, 41; “t’appressi,” ll. 24, 28) and one imperfect rhyme (“l’ulivo—cavo,” ll. 8–9). 380 In the same spirit as this opening is the invocation to a sister (l. 13).

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Laudata sia la spica nel meriggio! Ella s’inclina al Sole che la cuoce, verso la terra onde umida erba nacque; s’inclina e più s’inclinerà domane verso la terra ove sarà colcata col gioglio che’è malvagio suo fratello, con la vena selvaggia col cìano cilestro col papavero ardente, cui l’uom non seminò, in un mannello.

In the lines quoted the anaphoric sequence joins together litanic attributes. As we can observe, this and other quoted poems allow us to draw a fair number of litanic connections. Starting from the just mentioned small group of Franciscan praises of nature381 we can say that the figures related to litany, when taken among other stylistic operations, are not gathered together. They appear at various points of the poems but are not extended across entire texts. The laudatory spirit is also present in “Il fanciullo,”382 a poem in which each of the seven parts opens with a quatrain, which recalls the refrain of the medieval ballata maggiore. Each refrain can present a scheme of rhymes, or imperfect rhymes, or rhymes combined with unrelated lines. For each part at least one ten-line stanza follows, which in certain parts is tied through a rhyme with the last line of the refrain. Together with the invocatory elements (e. g. “Figlio della Cicala e dell’Olivo,” l. 1, 35; “O fiore innumerevole,” l. 65; “O ignuda creatura,” l. 174) the second part contains an unusual, fourteen-line anaphoric list which takes up the final part of the first and the entire second stanza. The word which introduces the enumeration is “come” (“as/like”), (ll. 79–80; 84–99): La spiga che s’inclina per offerirsi all’uomo […]

381 D’Annunzio’s vision of nature seems to be a perfect literary construction. As more than one scholar argues, his relation with nature is mediated through novels, scientific books, medieval documents, and dictionaries. Cf. e.g. Gibellini, Logos e mythos, 10. 382 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 416–26. In the note to this verse, the editors speak about its “metapoetic intonation” related to d’Annunzio’s drama Gloria (1889). Moreover, the ties with Nietzschean sources are strongly evident in the period in which he was working on this poem. Cf. “Note,” 1178–81. But see also Pietro Nicolai, L’itinerario intellettuale di Gabriele d’Annunzio. Dalla Laus vitae al Libro segreto (Rome: Città Nuova Editrice, 1998), 7.

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[…] sembra si giungano per l’aere sereno come i tuoi labbri e le tue dolci canne, come su letto d’erbe amato e amante, come i tuoi diti snelli e i sette fóri, come il mare e le foci, come nell’ala chiare e negre penne, come il fior del leandro e le tue tempie, come il pampino e l’uva, come la fronte e l’urna, come la gronda e il nido della rondine, come l’argilla e il pollice, come ne’ filari tuoi la cera e il miele, come il fuoco e la stipula stridente. come il sentiere e l’orma, come la luce ovunque tocca l’ombra.

The similitude is built up with a litanic regularity. As we can observe in the quoted excerpt, each line incorporates two elements bound by a coordinating conjunction (“e,” “and”) creating phrases of single lines, which are unrhymed. We note the use of different meters; what is lacking is a unique pattern of stresses, even for the initial parts of the lines. The repetitions help to built at least a partially regular aspect, which is external. There is a further note, which concerns the contents of this and other poems which are here discussed. The quotations from Franciscan literature or prayers are a superficial reference. D’Annunzio’s universe is entirely pagan; no being worthy of Christian worship inhabits it. This complicates attempts at establishing a new spiritual space, because even when the sources or the literary influences383 are anti-Christian, d’Annunzio uses fragments of Christian religious discourse. When they work well from the literary point of view, it is not a problem to reconcile completely opposed meanings. In fact, the last quoted fragment speaks about a sensual embrace symbolized by nature. 383 One of the most prominent models for d’Annunzio’s poetics was Carducci’s vision of religion. Pietro Nicolai considers this vision to be a trace of modern feeling of the artistic community of that epoch. “Pensano e scrivono, riferendosi alla religione, per distinguersene o per combatterla o, nel migliore dei casi, per capirla, dal loro punto di vista, beninteso. La medesima cosa deve dirsi di d’Annunzio. Fin dall’inizio della sua attività di scrittore, per influsso immediato del “Maestro avverso” (il Carducci) e per questo e per altri tramiti più lontani, egli optò per un atteggiamento diametralmente opposto alla visione del mondo e dell’uomo, e in particolare alla morale del cristianesimo.” Ibid., 6.

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In “Le stirpi canore”384 the model that joins a list of characteristics with the comparison is exploited in an innovative way. There is no formal reference for the structure of this poem, which is written in short, unrhymed lines.385 The meta-poetic dimension is present in other parts of the Laudi del cielo…, but in “Le stirpi canore” this characteristic is used together with certain devices which we define as litanic, namely the anaphoric list and what can be associated with attributes (ll. 1–17): I miei carmi son prole delle foreste, altri dell’onde, altri delle arene, altri del Sole, altri del vento Argeste. Le mie parole sono profonde come le radici terrene, altre serene come i firmamenti, fervide come le vene degli adolescenti, ispide come i dumi, confuse come i fumi confusi,

In addition to the first anaphoric sequence (ll. 3–5), and the repetition that introduces the comparison (ll. 9, 12), we find peculiar and extraordinary lines, which are built up on an inversion of attributes and prepositions which composes the similitude. This structure is carried out in the remaining, extensive part of the poem. We find that it is a new way to exploit a litanic device, which helps to achieve cantabile lines, despite the lack of unique rhythm pattern or meter. A list in which the elements are invoked closes “L’Alpe sublime.”386 In a formal perspective the poem recalls the previous text, but it features many appeals to sublime and abstract addressees, such as “Tyrrhenian silences” (l. 20), solitude, and Alpine regions. In fact, in the closing part we notice a sequence which tries to express, in a quintessential way, the glorious impact of nature on the subject. To achieve this, a litanic antonomasia is given the leading role (ll. 50–56): 384 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 469–70. 385 From three- to nine-syllable. 386 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 493–4.

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Inno senza favella, carne delle statue chiare, forza delle colonne alzata, sostanza delle forme eterne!

As we can see, in the last four lines the antonomasias meet the enjambment, creating very short metrical units, which contribute to the modern character of this hymn. Praise, as we remember, is the primary function of the lauda. And it is the main function of the quoted poem, even when the formal aspects have little to do with the original topics and genres of versification.

10.2  Elettra The book of Elettra was published in 1904. It is acknowledged that the main feature of this part of collection of Laudi del mare… is a “celebratory, political and liturgical-sacramental eloquence.”387 At a formal level this characteristic is realized through frequent use of odes, which prevail over other, more archaizing genres, such as lauda-ballads, sirventes, or imitations of the chansons de geste, which occur in the book. As for the litanic connotations, the invocative mood is present from the opening ode, “Alle montagne.”388 The calls are addressed to the mountains or their antonomasias (“Candide cime,” “Pure peaks,” l. 1; “Montagne madri,” “Mountain-mothers,” l. 13; “o Montagne immortali,” “oh immortal Mountains,” ll. 25, 29).389 Moreover, the two opening stanzas include references to the Christian universe. These are evangelical allusions—which are not unambiguous, if we consider the topic—to shepherds and flocks, together with other elements, such as the invocation to the Spirit, qualified as something pure and unknown (or without a name), a fact that recalls a sacerdotal recitation of a sacred hymn.390 It is preceded by a double phrase-anaphora.391 The following invocations include anaphoric elements too, which can appear at the beginning

387 “Note,” 997. 388 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 255–6. 389 Cf. also “Per la morte di Giovanni Segantini.” Ibid., 320–1. 390 It is difficult to establish the source prayer for this poem. Rather than Veni Sancte Spiritus, it could be a prayer to the Spiritus Paraclitus for the presence of the imperative “descend.” 391 We also observe a triple epiphoric closing in the first quoted stanza.

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or in the middle of the lines. This part occupies the final three stanzas of the text (ll. 37–54): Chi finalmente, sceso a noi dalle alture inaccesse, ricondurrà la gioia? Chi su la vasta fronte avrà, mai veduta possanza, una luce di gioia? O tu dale Montagne purissime, Spirito ignoto scendi con la tua gioia! Dai culmini virginei che splendono sotto le stelle pie, dalle inesplorate sedi ove le sorgenti perenni cantano inconsce della superna estate, dalle vene incorrotte dei geli, dal sacro silenzio delle cose ignorate, da tutta la grandezza venerabile delle Montagne madri io t’evoco, o puro Spirito senza nome, che l’occhio dell’anima vede trascorrere l’oscuro abisso devo tanto umano dolore si torce e schiudere il Futuro!

The first four lines quoted above involve elements which are typical of the hymns to the Holy Spirit, such as a prayer for light, a descent from the heights, without being effectively related to Christian topics. The gifts of the Spirit are both joy (ll. 43, 45, 47) and a future for suffering humanity. The litanic character of this poetical prayer is based on a subdivision into phrases which do not correspond to the articulation in lines. This effect recalls early Italian versification, which was strongly related to the sentence, even if in “Alle montagne” it is achieved due to the use of enjambment. Moreover, as far as the Franciscan discourse is concerned—probably for this text it is not the main point of reference—we can observe an attempt at reconstructing, at least visually, the long verse of Laudes creaturarum by Francis of Assisi. We conclude that a poem which is far from the Christian vision of religion reveals a complex origin remarkably closely associated with specific elements of the Christian discourse. In the following, hundred-twenty-one-line ode “A Dante”392 we find many repetitive parts, mainly set in the form of syntactic anaphoras,393 and two short 392 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 257–60. 393 To give only one example, in the final stanza a litanic prayer to Dante, who is described as an intecessor, is built on a Dantean anaphora: “per la notte che si profonda

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passages in which some litanic elements are used. A series of invocations which constitute line 45 (“o Risvegliatore, o Purificatore, o Intercessore”) is recalled in an anaphoric sequence that occurs in lines 100–103: Sol nel tuo verbo è per noi la luce, o Rivelatore, son nel tuo canto è per noi la forza, o Liberatore, sol nella tua melodìa è la molt’anni lagrimata pace, o Consolatore,

Two aspects of the litanies create here a poetical moment which particularly suits the oral recitation and learning by heart. We note direct references to prayers to the Holy Spirit—we remember that attributes such as “Comforter” appeared in certain medieval laudarios—which connect the present poem with religious genres of the epoch of Origins. At the same time, the prayer created in this singular ode expresses well the “superomismo”394 that characterizes a part of the Laudi del cielo…, as does d’Annunzio’s prose dating from the earliest years of the twentieth century, after his reading of Nietzsche’s works. We shall give only an overview of a few other texts which contain interesting litanic elements, even if their formal aspects do not directly touch the problems of our research. For its mnemonic character we may mention “La notte di Caprera,”395 a “long Garibaldian rhapsody”396 inspired by the chansons de geste. This poem is composed of 22 chants, which present a number of repetitive patterns and invocations. The most interesting part is the presentation of formations of warriors. In the paratext it is provided with a gloss, “Catalogo dei guerrieri.”397 The names of the fighters are associated with their attributes, either heroic deeds performed during battles or places of origin,398 a technique that recalls the Litany of the Saints. The setting is the Italian wars of independence; in the part

e per l’alba che ancor non sale /noi t’invochiamo! / Pel rancore dei forti che patiscono la vergogna, / per tremito delle vergini forze che opprime la menzogna, / noi ti preghiamo! / Per la quercia e per il lauro per il ferro lampeggiante, / per la vittoria e per la gloria e per la gioia e per le tue sante / speranze, o tu che odi e vedi e sai, custode alto dei fati, Dante, / noi t’attendiamo!” See lines 113–21. 394 A desire for “overmanhood” modeled on the Nietzschean idea of the Übermensch. 395 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 288–317. 396 Ibid., 1041. When the poem was first published in 1901 a dedication was added to the text: “Ai superstiti dei Mille il Poeta  r e l i g i o s a m e n t e   dedica.” 397 It occurs in Part XVI of the poem. 398 At the same time there also appear references to antique and modern authors of epic poems, such as Virgil and Ariosto. Cf. D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 1046.

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mentioned the subject appeals to Truth, asking that Truth sing to him a story of the Battle of Velletri.399 We can cite here a short excerpt (ll. 72–81; 89–92): […] ecco il toscano Masi, il Sampieri veneto, ecco il lombardo Vismara, il Baci piceno, l’apuano Giorgieri, dicu e gregarii, il romano Spada, e Fulgenzio Fabrizi umbro ammirando Al Ponte Milvio e il conte ravennate Loreta e il buon Savoia mantovano e il buon Maestri, il monco, il mutilato di Morazzone, e quel gentil Montaldi già cacciatore al Salto e capitano […] d’ogni contrata, figli della montagna, figli del piano figli del litorale della città e del borgo selvaggio, il più bel fiore fiorito dalle madri

In the final part of the quoted passage the fighters are defined in a collective way, through a sequence of litanic antonomasias which recall geographical typologies such as mountain, coast, and town. Finally, in the last line the warriors are described, through a reference to laudistic discourse, as “the most beautiful flower.”400 In “Nel primo centenario della nascita di Vittore Hugo”401 we find a similar model, here related to a single person, whose name is never given in the body of the text. It is implied because of its presence in the title of the poem, which thematically and formally is close to verses which belong to the book of Maia.402 Through antonomasias (“Eroe figlio del Nume,” “Hero, a son of Numen,” l. 9) and invocations (“O nembo sonante dell’Ode,” “Oh sounding cloud of Ode,” l. 82) the figure of Victor Hugo becomes a symbol of heroism. The representation incorporates symbolism of nature, Greek mythology, the history of literature, different French regions, the biblical prophets, and references to Giosuè Carducci, 399 The battle took place in 1849. For another strong model, we may recall the proem of The Iliad. The invocation is repeated within this part of the poem. Litanic lists follow, such as that quoted above. 400 As we are speaking about male figures, we should remember that in the laudas of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries Jesus was often addressed with the names of flowers. 401 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 334–43. 402 “Nel primo centenario della nascita di Vittore Hugo” shares with Laus vitae several leitmotifs. Cf. “Note,” 1066.

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Algernon Swinburne403 and Hugo himself. A short, but relevant, antonomastic passage composes lines 115–121: Egli è Pan, la sostanza del Cielo della Terra e del Mare, l’Orgiaste, il Sonoro, il Vagabondo, il dio dal piè caprino, dal corno lunare, il signore del coro, il duce dell’eterno ritorno

Christian elements are absent from this laus, which reflects various influences. Still, there is an attempt to sacralize a figure of recent literary tradition through references to the arts. The enumeration of antonomasias is one of the means that support the experiment, bringing into the verse both a rhetorical device and a semantics of prayer. The latter helps to elevate the status of the object of praise.

10.3  Maia We have mentioned the longest poem that is included in Maia. The title is “Laus vitae,”404 and it is accompanied by two brief poems. As for “Laus vitae,” the text abounds with quotations from Laudes Creaturarum by Francis of Assisi. Let us quote a short segment (ll. 112–114, 122–126): Laudato sii, potere del sogno ond’io m’incorono imperialmente […] roggia! Laudato sii intanto, o tu che apri il mio petto troppo angusto pel respiro della mia anima! E avrai

Several litanic devices operate in these lines, which express the above-mentioned “superomismo” and at the same time do not conceal their link with the Franciscan discourse, thanks to which a sacralizing character is maintained throughout the collection, even where clearer references to Franciscan spirit are avoided. Among the litanic qualities we can count the invocation, which is widely used throughout 403 These two poets also wrote odes in memory of Hugo. “A Vittore Hugo” was published in Carducci’s collection Rime nuove from 1887. Algernon Charles Swinburne included “To Victor Hugo” in his collection Poems and Ballads from 1866. 404 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 13–252.

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the collection—especially that type which is anaphorically repeated—and sequences of either laudatory or blessing formulas. Some scholar associates the invocative mood with “oratorical ornatus,”405 but we are convinced that at many points its meaning can be related to a wider litanic frame, often originating in medieval models, which are extremely important for this part of d’Annunzio’s work. Together with the invocation, formulas are also in use all through the book of Maia. We shall mention only a few relevant passages to illustrate this way of realizing a sacralizing discourse, in which a renewed and triumphant human existence is celebrated. We will sample the opening of the first part of the poem, in which there are introduced relevant elements that are recalled in further sections such as “Saluto al Maestro” (“Salutation/homage to the Master,” Part XX), and the closing “Preghiera alla madre immortale”406 (“Prayer to the immortal mother,” Part XXI). The subject of “Laus vitae” is a poet. We observe that a litanic manner is achieved by associating invocations with an anaphoric list (ll. 1–6): O Vita, o Vita, dono terribile del dio, come una spada fedele, come una ruggente face, come una gorgóna, come la centàurea veste;

In the opening lines a module consisting of invocation to Life + antonomasia + list is used, and then it is repeated, adding one more antonomasia and changing the attributes of the enumeration; when it appears for the third time the word that introduces the anaphora is changed, but the structure is preserved. A triple anaphoric question follows, which occupies six lines. A triplicate structure can have different connotations, but we should remember that it is also typical of both prayer (including litanic prayer) and liturgy. Part I of “Laus vitae” is a nucleolus which also contains a Franciscan exclamation, “Laudata/o sii,” which appears three times (ll. 47, 112, 122), and is then repeated several times in all the books of Laudi del cielo… “Saluto al Maestro”407 addresses Giosuè Carducci, invoked through his early pen name “Enotrio”, which he had used at the time of “Inno a Satana.” The homage manifests a strongly chairetismic character, which

405 “Note,” 1069. 406 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 250–2. 407 Ibid., 242–9. In 1903 the poem was separately published in a literary review, before its publication in the book of Maia. Its title at that time was “L a u d e a G i o s u è C a r d u c c i.” Ibid., 990.

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is associated with religious concepts (“alle tue prime cune / io peregrinai santamente. / E purificai le mie mani,” “to your early cradles / I made holy pilgrimage. / And purified my hands,” Part XX, ll. 5–7). The most interesting element of this part, at least from the litanic point of view, is the use of a threefold liturgylike formula (ll. 151–152; 161–162; 169–170): Enotrio, ora e sempre laudato sii tu fra gli uomini in terra […] Enotrio, ora e sempre laudato sii tu fra la gente latina […] Enotrio, ora e sempre laudato sii tu fra l’italica gente

The last repetition of the formula is followed by a triple anaphoric sequence, and the stanza that begins at that point contains further liturgical connotations, such as the phrase “perché tu solo / tu solo” (“for you alone are / you alone are,” ll. 182, 187). In a perspective of laic liturgy, we could interpret the invocation “O padre” (“Oh Father,” l. 190) as an element that completes the sacerdotal service to a literary ancestor—the character of this part of “Laus vitae” is related to the early tie between the litany and the liturgy. Continuing on this trail, we may interpret the apostrophe to the Mother, which opens the final four stanzas of “Laus vitae,” as a prayer originating from the liturgical-litanic purpose that is manifest in the earlier parts of the poem. Although its invocations are not accompanied by the anaphoric sequences we consider to be litanic elements, such as those which build up the line “Natura, mia Madre immortale” (“Oh Nature, my immortal Mother,” Part XXI, l. 43), the calls “O Nutrice,” “O Persuasiva” (“Oh wet nurse,” “Oh Persuasive,” ll. 72, 81). The actual prayer—which is a private supplication that starts from the liturgical phrases—is found in lines 95–98, with an additional formula in lines 115–116 (“Madre, Madre, fa che più forte / e lieto io sia,” “Mother, Mother make me stronger / and glad”).

10.4  Canti della guerra latina According to d’Annunzio’s initial plan, Asterope was to be the fifth out of seven books of Laudi del cielo…, which was to be dedicated to the Pleiades. Among his papers there is evidence of such an idea, which was later transformed into the book of Canti della guerra latina, which includes poems written before and during the First World War to encourage and support Italian participation in

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the conflict.408 The initial title of this book was Sterope, but repeatedly409 the poet changed his mind and published the book under a different title. In concluding our analysis we shall discuss only one poem from Canti della guerra latina. As the poems were written more than a decade after the composition and publication of the three books that have been considered so far, the forms, the inspirations,410 and even the language are all quite different, and two opening series of odes were written in French to be published in France.411 We may quote some of “Preghiere dell’avvento,”412 a series of five prayers composed in quatrains in memory of those who died at sea.413 This text is rich in interesting repetitive and invocatory patterns. The group opens with a call to “Mare di Dio”414 (“Sea of God,” Part I, l. 1) followed by the declaration “io ti prego” (“I pray you,” Part I, l.3). The second part is subtitled “Per la gloria” and manifests several litanic elements. This time an anaphoric sequence opens three initial stanzas addressing God (“Dio d’Italia,” “God of Italy,” Part II, ll. 2, 5, 9, 145, 157) to culminate with the invocation “Dio di gloria” (“God of Glory,” ll. 13, 149). This is a segment of prayer. Later we are given a direct speech by the Allies to the Italians in which other, even denser anaphoric patterns are present (“Dove sono / Dove,” “Where are / where,” ll. 17, 20, 21, 49, 51), a direct question to the dead mariners “Avete appreso” (“Have you learned,” ll. 25, 29, 30, 37, 41, 45, 57), “quando” (“when,” ll. 31, 32, 34, 35, 39). When the direct discourse is over, the poem continues and offers more complex repetitive passages, such as the enumeration that follows below (ll. 65–69): Le donne non avevano più mani da giugnere, ma moncherini oranti.

408 It is acknowledged that d’Annunzio, who at that time lived in France, was an interventionist in favour of the Italian entering the war together with the Allies. 409 A definitive decision seems to have been made in 1924. Cf. “Note,” 1331. The alternative title at that time was Sterope. 410 At the same time, there are constants which do not change, for example, the visual reference—remarkable in Maia, but also present in the other books—to The Last Judgment by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. 411 See “Le Figaro” in 1914 and 1915. Among the “new” entries we have e.g. psalms and prayers characterized by long, prose-like meters, Sapphic stanzas (namely quatrains of three hendecasyllables and one five-syllable), other forms of quatrains, and songs with refrain. 412 D’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria II, 799–813. 413 The prayer in memory of the mariners who died during the first few years of the Italian participation to the war. Cf. “Note,” 1346. 414 It takes up the traditional “Madre di Dio” (“Mother of God”).

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Le cattedrali non avean più santi che pregassero in sommo agli archi vani.

A similar enumeration is found in another section, which is not far removed from the one jest quoted (ll. 73–76). These anaphoric-litanic elements are locally established and then abandoned. Starting from line 98 a wider invocatory passage begins, which is once again a direct, flattering speech, which lists the military accomplishments of Italy. The lexical repertory is biblical and laudistic. We quote a stanza (ll. 117–120): O nostra grazia, o balsamo giocondo per ogni cura, unguento dell’esiglio, tra tutte le contrade quale il giglio è tra spine, voluttà del mondo.

After the direct speech ends, a parallelism is found with the moment in which Italy enters the war (rejoicing for the “virile May”). Similar rhetorical module is employed, with a concomitant reinforcement of the enjambments (ll. 137–140): O maschio maggio, turbine solare, inno vasto di giubilo, o torrenti di giovinezza, o sùbiti torrenti di sangue, verso l’Alpe e verso il mare!

This part of the prayer abounds in litanic devices and passages without, however, becoming a real litany. Unlike the other books of Laudi del cielo…, the “songs” dedicated to the war have the function of first encouraging and then sacralizing participation in the conflict. The first title for “Preghiere dell’Avvento” was “Inni sacri,”415 with a clear reference to Alessandro Manzoni’s patriotic poems from the first decades of the nineteenth century, which have been discussed in an earlier section. This in some way underlines the connection of litanic elements with the patriotic-sacralizing project of poetry that was dedicated to national struggles. Certainly this is not the only way to write about wars, conflicts, national uprisings, etc., but when a persuasive way of describing collective struggle is examined, litanic qualities are very often found to be associated with it. It is not difficult to understand the reasons for this association—on the one hand the rhetorical patterns encourage a collective spirit and are easy to memorize, and on the other hand the sacred character of litanies reinforces the status of

415 “Note,” 1329. In 1924, planning the national edition of the collected works, d’Annunzio wished to entitle the entire fifth book of laudas Gli inni sacri della guerra giusta. The author changed his mind several times.

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what is being asked of the people (to die or to kill, two acts that are deprecated in the ordinary life of communities) for the sake of an idea. In fact, between the nineteenth-century pre-Risorgimento and the twentieth-century world conflict, the context was to change enormously, but the first idea of d’Annunzio was to associate his First World War interventionism with the dawning of national spirit of the Italians. D’Annunzio’s change in the title of this poem obscures the tie, even if all the means by which it is established remain evident. At a general level it is worth noting that meaning and contents can be transformed, when the persuasive mechanism of litanies that laudistic genres exploit is preserved: very often what remains operative is one of two levels, that of signifiant or signifié.

10.5 Conclusions To sum up, d’Annunzio’s laudas represent a project of renewal of Italian poetry. At the beginning this concerns only poetry itself, but later it comes to include public debate and political rhetoric. The collection Laudi del cielo… is not a systematic proposal of reformation. Yet it is difficult not to see the grandiose character of d’Annunzio’s laudistic project,416 especially considering the brilliant and long tradition of the lauda to which this poetry is connected. As for litanic echoes— which neither assume primary importance, but nor are lacking in the Laudi del cielo…—we observe that the mystical lauda, which in the past richly used litanic devices, does not appear to be among the most immediate of d’Annunzio’s sources. We recall that this type of lauda was the largest group, in which the relevance of litanic devices comprised organizing structures. At the same time reference to the Franciscan cultural milieu is for d’Annunzio an artifice to create an immediate association with the sacrum. As we have observed, this aspect concerns language rather than spiritual connotations, as it is mainly contextualized in praise of nature, of brothers and sisters (usually heroic men and attractive women), of man and his glorious past, of Italian antiquity and modern times, etc. A degree of religious sense is more clearly present in those poems that are dedicated to national heroes, be they warriors or poets. We include here Garibaldi and his companions, Dante, Michelangelo, and other figures who have not been mentioned in this analysis. The formal aspects of the poems partially recall the tradition— and we remember that the laudistic genre is extremely flexible and incorporates poetical and musical forms. At the same time, the ballads, sirventes, and even odes do not correspond to the formal requirements of the specific genres that 416 D’Annunzio’s poetry and prose had a great impact on twentieth-century writers, even if the laudas are not his most important work from this point of view.

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we know from the tradition. In some places d’Annunzio also experiments with versification, with both long and short verses,417 and with stanzaic construction, which is often adapted to new ideas.418 As for this aspect, one concern of the poet is the declamatory character of a part of his poems. Thus it is necessary to speak of certain features of the several genres, which are employed to create original texts. At least in the two central books of Laudi del cielo…, namely Alcyone and Elettra, litanic prayers are built, often in the final parts of the poems. Even if the litanic character is not central in the structural arrangement of the poems, from a rhetorical point of view this strategy lends incisiveness and contributes to the remembering of the message.

417 “ma tutti riconducibili a moduli ritmico-sillabici tradizionali,” even when the approximate syllabic verse is used. Cf. Francesco Bausi and Mario Martelli, La me­ trica italiana: teoria e storia (Florence: Le lettere, 1996), 271–8. Even if in some of d’Annunzio’s laudas rhythmical patterns are present, iambics are a rarity and do not pertain to the poems considered in the present chapter. The quoted work by Bausi and Martelli speaks about both free and experimental versification, marked by the logic of approximate syllabic verse. 418 Especially in Alcyone, “dove non si può più, propriamente, parlare di recupero antiquario, giacché le forme antiche vengono spesso sottoposte a una destrutturazione che, pur non impedendone, in genere, la riconoscibilità, ne altera profondamente i connotati.” Ibid., 249.

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Part II:  Around the Sonnet

11 The Sonnet The sonnet occupies a prominent position and takes up much space in the history of Italian poetry. It arises during the epoch of Origins, and is still getting on well in the twentieth century. The sonnet presents many facets, topics, and registers. The most important type—from a European perspective—, namely the love sonnet, exists together with the burlesque sonnet, high-, and low-register sonnets, the sonnet in literary language, and sonnets in the various dialects of the Apennine Peninsula. The richness of this genre is impressive, and for this reason we have selected for closer examination certain periods, authors, and trends. As an example of what must be omitted we may mention the comic-realistic sonnet, which does not appear at all in our monograph, even though it may be thought to present a strongly anaphoric character, as some scholars assert.1 Due to limits of space, a potential link between the litany and the comic-realistic trend will have to be discussed in another publication. On certain occasions we do not consider an author of sonnets in this chapter because his other works are relevant to, and receive attention in, other chapters of the book. In other cases, finally, we skip certain periods because the litanic influence at that time does not illustrate fresh, innovative modes, even if a given trend or school (for example, the baroque sonnet) in a general perspective is important in literary history.

11.1  The Subdued Religiosity of the Sicilian School The sonnet is a thirteenth-century invention born in the imperial court of Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, called stupor mundi because of his ambitious culturalstatal project in Southern Italy. The origin of the sonnet has been a matter of a long debate—having discarded the hypothesis of folk origin,2 nowadays scholars commonly believe that Giacomo da Lentini, a notary and the most skilled 1 Cf. e.g. Furio Brugnolo, Il canzoniere di Nicolo de Rossi. Lingua, tecnica, cultura poetica, vol. II (Padua: Antenore, 1977), 369–74. 2 Nineteenth-century scholars used to privilege the thesis of a union of two strambotti. Strambotto is a short love or satiric jester lyric, composed of six or eight lines, with rhymes that follow the scheme ababab… However, its rhyme pattern manifests a richness of regional variants. This popular form is taken up in aulic poetry starting from the fifteenth century, and arouses much interest of poets in the nineteenth century. In the late-nineteenth century it also drew the attention of Italian, French, and German scholars, who often worked on this form. In that period Biadene, for the Italian part,

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poet of the imperial retinue, inaugurated this lyric form, having been inspired by the stanza of canzone. Giacomo, or Jacobus Notarius, was born in Lentini at the end of the twelfth century. He signed the documents of the imperial court starting from 1233. An evocative hypothesis supposes that around 1232 two noblemen from the Marca trevisana would have given to Frederick II a manuscript, a collection of troubadour poetry,3 and the emperor brought it to his civil servants as a model to imitate. However, following Frederick’s project of fostering excellence in his state, Giacomo and other imperial officials initiated a new, lay poetic school based on the Provençal love lyric and the local vernacular, which would become the so-called siciliano illustre.4 Speaking about the school, we mean a group of poets at Frederick’s Sicilian court creating new metrical forms and patterns in a new language. They implanted in the Italian Peninsula a new thematic line which, as is well known, inaugurated the development of subsequent Tuscan love poetry, and inspired the Stilnovo, the young Dante’s, and the mature poetics of Petrarch. The sonnet is a fourteen-line form composed of two sections, an octave and a sestet, with a rhyme pattern built on four couplets for the first part (abababab, namely the Sicilian octave) plus two tercets, resulting usually in a three-rhymed composition. Initially, the status of the sonnet was not very high. Like the other poets of the Sicilian school, Giacomo da Lentini, also wrote canzoni, which represented the aulic poetical genre.5 The sonnet is a particular issue of Sicilian (and later Tuscan) poetry, while we do not have sonnets written by Provençal

gave his proposal for reconstruction of the origins of the sonnet in Leandro Biadene, Morfologia del sonetto nei secoli 13.–14. (Florence: Le lettere, 1977), 1–11. 3 This supposition, made by Aurelio Roncaglia, is criticized by Costanzo di Girolamo, Introduzione, in I poeti della scuola siciliana, 2. Poeti della corte di Federico II (Milan: Mondadori, 2008), XLII. Today most scholars identify the 1220s as a probable date for the appearance of the sonnet. 4 Antonelli speaks about the wide cultural autonomy of Frederick’s court poets. Cf. Ro­berto Antonelli, Introduzione, in I poeti della scuola siciliana, 1. Giacomo da Lentini, ed. Roberto Antonelli (Milan: Mondadori, 2008), LIII–VII. We remember also that politically the state enjoyed a high degree of autonomy. 5 The manuscript including the largest amount of poetry of the Sicilian authors is Vaticano 3793; it is divided into sections: canzoni represent the “high” poetry, while the sections of sonnets are considered modest (Dante’s project of analysis of the sonnet as a third lyric form of vernacular literature in De vulgari eloquentia remained unfinished). Antonelli argues that the genre division in the mentioned codex might originate from the manuscripts of troubadours. Cf. Antonelli, Introduzione, XIX–XX.

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authors.6 One more important feature of the Sicilian school, and the most important difference in comparison with the Provençal poetry, is the lack of musical accompaniment to the texts. Despite the etymology of the term—Provençal sonet is a diminutive of “melody”, “sound”—our form was born as a strictly textual genre. Subsequently, when the sonnet spread across Central and Northern Italy, it acquired musical arrangements.7 Although other genres, as for example the lauda and canzone, were provided with musical counterpart, the sonnet inaugurated the important phenomenon that was defined as a “divorce between music and poetry.”8 For Beltrami, this separation is one reason for the creation of such a rhetorically elaborate genre: La figura professionale del poeta, che non è un musico, lo porta insistere maggiormente sull’elaborazione retorica.9

Moreover, the popularization of the form, especially in the Stilnovo school, allowed experiments on the rhyme scheme, considering especially the octave section,10 with repercussions on the syntactic and rhetorical structure of verses. Frederick II of Hohenstaufen imposed on his court a secular program11 that also affected the purpose of writing—the religious content was not banned, but the life of the court encouraged another type of poetry. Compared with the lauda, the Sicilian sonnet also bears a litanic potential, but this kind of reference is realized in a totally different manner. Considering that the litanic character of a text results from a complex sequence of factors—rhetoric, lexical, semantic,

6 There are three sonnets written in Provençal language, but the authors are Tuscan poets of the late-thirteenth century: Dante da Maiano, who composed two poems, and Lanfranchi di Pistoia. Cf. Pietro G. Beltrami, La metrica italiana (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2011), 268–9. 7 However, not immediately. We know later arrangements of Petrarch’s sonnets. 8 Cf. e.g. Pietro Beltrami, Esperienza del verso. Scritti di metrica italiana (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2015; ebook edition). Beltrami does not exclude that the sonnet might have had a remote and not codified musical origin. See also Furio Brugnolo, “La scuola poetica siciliana,” in Storia della letteratura italiana, vol. I, ed. Enrico Malato (Rome: Salerno, 1995), 263–337. 9 Beltrami, Esperienza del verso. 10 From abababab to abba abba. Variations are allowed, but the division into two quatrains remains operative. 11 “The pillars of the new [Sicilian] poetry were pillars of the State, which claimed the whole of each official, his private gifts as well as his public service.” Cf. Ernst Kantorowicz, Frederick the Second 1194–1250 (New York: Ungar, 1957), 333.

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etc.—among the poems by Giacomo da Lentini we find a sonnet that exploits the figure of anaphora.12 Let us read the poem:13 Lo viso mi fa andare alegramente, lo bello viso mi fa rinegare, lo viso me conforta ispesamente, l’adorno viso che mi fa penare. Lo chiaro viso de la più avenente, l’adorno viso, riso me fa fare: di quello viso parlane la gente, che nullo viso a viso li pò stare. Chi vide mai così begli occhi in viso, né sì amorosi fare li sembianti, né boca con cotanto dolce riso? Quand’eo li parlo moroli davanti, e paremi ch’i’ vada in paradiso, e tegnomi sovrano d’ogn’amante.

The repetition of the term “viso” (“face”)14 is present as a plain anaphora (ll. 1, 3). It appears alternating with the formula “mi fa” (“it makes me”), which is reiterated and enriched in attributes (ll. 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6) or other syntactic elements, as in lines 7 and 8. The anaphora would be a figure of “insistence” that emphasizes the “expressive data” of an enunciation.15 Kleinhenz observes that the role of this amplification, which joins the octave and the sestet, would be a particular reexamination of a Provençal formal solution known as cobla capfinida.16 Undeniably it establishes a connection between the two sections. Nevertheless, from our point of view the anaphora accompanied by the phrase “mi fa” acts as a litanic formula enumerating the wonder effects of seeing the face of the poet’s beloved. It divides the poem into minimal unities, which are equal to single lines of the verse in the first quatrain; in the second quatrain the repetitions are grouped in

12 According to Silvia Emmi, Repertorio retorico dei federiciani (Acireale–Rome: Bonanno Editore, 2009), 97: the anaphora is not frequently used by Frederick’s poets. 13 Giacomo da Lentini, Lo viso mi fa andare alegramente, in 1. Giacomo da Lentini, 472. 14 Unless otherwise indicated, translations are mine. In other cases it is indicated in a footnote. 15 Emmi, Repertorio retorico dei federiciani, 97. 16 “in which the movement from one part to the other is not recapitulatory but anticipatory.” Cristopher Kleinhenz, The Early Italian Sonnet. The First Century (1220–1320) (Lecce: Milella Edizioni, 1986), 44.

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couplets.17 The anaphora is reiterated in the opposite metrical position, which is an epistrophe (emphasizing the first rhyme of the sestet, l.9)—this could be interpreted as an attempt to dissipate the formula.18 The subject reveals itself in the personal pronoun “me” (“mi,” ll. 1–4 and 6). The litanic nature of the sonnet is then accompanied by a personal voice, with the amplificatio that magnifies the addressee focusing the semantics of veneration. In the love sonnet, as we will see soon, litanic repetition is used in order to highlight the extraordinary characters of both the addressee and the situation of the subject. Human inquietude is expressed in a sonnet attributed to Re Enzo, Frederick’s son, who passed almost thirty years in captivity in Bologna, popularizing, as is commonly known, the poetry of the emperor’s court in Northern Italy.19 Let us read an entire sonnet that does not touch on love arguments, but makes sacred the anxiety of time:20 Tempo vene che sale chi discende, e tempo da parlare e da tacere, e tempo d’ascoltare a chi imprende, e tempo da minacce non temere; e tempo d’ubbidir chi ti riprende tempo di molte cose provedere, tempo di vengïare chi t’offende, tempo d’infignere di non vedere. Però lo tegno saggio e canoscente cului che fa sui fatti con ragione

17 According to observations on the scribal practices in early Italian poetry and some remarks on the punctuation of Giacomo da Lentini, written and syntactical periods are usually composed of what we consider couplets—each octave is transcribed on four lines in the thirteenth-century codices. Cf. Kleinhenz, The Early Italian Sonnet, 23–4; Biadene. 18 In some laudas by Bianco da Siena it was a manner to connect parts of poems and a way itself of justifying the use of the rhetoric devices related to the litany. Cf. my paper “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena,” Bullettino senese di storia patria CXXII(2015): 155–69. 19 The sonnet by Re Enzo is, by the way, transmitted by the thirteen-century codex known as Memoriali bolognesi. A collection of public and private acts from the municipality of Bologna that the citizens and the government had to compile based on the law promulgated by the podestà in 1265. Many civil servants would transcribe their own texts or those of other authors (among them we have two Sicilian poets) in the free spaces between one notary act and another. 20 2. Poeti della corte di Federico II, 748–9. For this sonnet see also the Book of Ecclasiastes, 3.

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e che col tempo si sa comportare e mettesi in piacere de la gente, che non si trovi nessuna cagione che lo su’ fatto possa biasimare.

The way in which this sonnet has been transmitted21 makes difficult a sure transcription of the order of lines, but the litanic quality—in our analysis this is the only litanic sonnet supported by the figure of polysyndeton—would be preserved, even if the order of lines were changed according to some other philological or linguistic criterion. One might infer that it is properly the litanic nature of the text that allows different distributions of the metrical unities of the poem, especially in the octave and as far as the arrangement of the formula, namely, the conjunction “and” (“e”) preceding the noun “time” (“tempo”), is concerned. A monotonous anaphora marks the first section of the sonnet. In the lines which are involved a fulfillment, or mobile part, follows the fixed element. Litanic relation between the subject and the beloved consists of attributing a specific function to the enumeration of some exceptional features of the addressee of discourse—a faithful lover demands grace or even protection. Subsequently, the Tuscan generation of the Stilnovo poets will be defined by Dante as fedeli d’amore: it does not seem a simple coincidence that those authors brought together love semantics, acquired from Sicilian and Provençal writers, with the Marian, or generically religious, discourse.22 In fact, the latter element is hardly discoverable in the Sicilian poets. Among the Sicilians there is of course an exception, a fragment by Giacomino Pugliese,23 found in Zurich,24 in a manuscript 21 For the resumé. Cf. 2. Poeti della corte di Federico II, 747–8. 22 In Giacomo da Lentini the sonnet can be based on an enumeration of precious stones (emerald, sapphire, topaz, ruby, etc.) combined with a repeated negative particle— effectively the poem is an encomium. The litanic quality of praise (or chairetism), present in the sonnet in the inside out manner, is overshadowed by the long list of preciosities. Cf. 1. Giacomo da Lentini, “Diamante, né smiraldo, né zafino,” 524. In Dante, we have a sonnet which reports a positive list of double abstract nouns (“Savere e cortesia, ingegno ed arte, / nobilitate, bellezza e riccore, / fortezza e umiltate e largo core, / prodezza ed eccellenza, giunte e sparte / este grazie e vertuti in onne parte.” Cf. Dante Alighieri, Rime, ed. Gianfranco Contini (Turin: Einaudi, 1995), 19)—also here we are dealing with a mere enumeration. This modality will yield interesting results at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The quoted text does not manifest other characters of prayer. 23 The identity of the author is uncertain, but we know that other poems written at Frederick’s court were by the same person. 24 Giuseppina Brunetti, Il frammento inedito [R]esplendiente stella de albur di Giacomino Pugliese e la poesia italiana delle origini (Tubingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 2000).

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acquired from St. Gallen Abbey library.25 It is probably an early transcription, perhaps contemporary to the flourishing of the Sicilian School.26 The canzone is composed of eight-line stanzas—we abandon for a while the form of sonnet, in order to read the mentioned fragment, which manifests both typically Sicilian rhetoric elements and religious expressions close to the litanic rhetoric developed in the laudas (ll. 1–8): [R]esplendiente stella de albur, dulce plaçente dona d’amur, bella, lu meu cor as in balia: [d]a voy non si departe en fidança m’ad on’or te renenbra la dya quando formamo la dulçe ama[n]ça.27

As Christopher Kleinhenz argues, “feudal terminology was, for the most part, abandoned”28 by Frederick’s circle of poets.29 In this perspective, the space for the laudatio could be partially filled with references to the religious context. It is necessary to say that rarely it could happen in a direct way. The model of the opening that we usually find in the Marian lauda—strongly connected with the litanic asserting—is here clearly observable. Together with the invocation, the praise is contained in lines 1–4 following the logic of Marian anaphora in religious poetry. In order to get an overall picture of the situation one should examine the direct influence, namely the influence of Latin lyrical chairetisms, on the vernacular poetry,30 but that is not the purpose of the present work. Nevertheless, even the chapter on the lauda gives some precious indications to understand both the reasons and the ways of spreading the litanic discourse. In our research 25 The fragment of a canzone by Giacomino Pugliese is an early transcript dated 1234–35. Cf. Vittorio Formentin, Poesia italiana delle origini (Rome: Carocci, 2007), 214. 26 Emmi, Repertorio retorico dei federiciani, 17. As is well known, most of the poetry written at the court of Frederick II of Hohenstaufen is preserved in manuscripts collected by Tuscan scribes. 27 Brunetti, Il frammento inedito, 102. See also “Dona valente” (l. 25). 28 As far as the Sicilian concept of love is concerned. Cf. Kleinhenz, The Early Italian Sonnet, 12. We observe that this becomes a factor that shapes the language of poetry, too. 29 It is true, even if it is possible to find concepts such as bon signore or similar. Perhaps they are not referred to a social context, but still they belong to the mentality of the poets. 30 There is, then, the network of the other vernaculars of the Romania, with their cultural connections.

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the rhetorical aspect represents an important factor, as a prayer-like apostrophe to a woman is present in the earliest Italian poems and recalled at later stages of the evolution of the sonnet. As Silvia Emmi argues: Nei rimatori siciliani si appura una frequenza considerevole di apostrofi rivolte alla donna, che è l’interlocutrice privilegiata del poeta, ed è qualificata con aggettivi che ne indicano la superiorità.31

In the analyzed poems, what we define as litanic features build up the opening segment of many sonnets—at that stage the first eight lines are the location for the repetitive parts. This would become typical for the rhetorical scheme of the octave in the thirteenth century—some younger poets would soon exploit the enumeration and the periphrastic laudatio in order to construct very intense passages made up of bigger units.

31 Emmi, Repertorio retorico dei federiciani, 63.

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12 Poetry as an Authentic Expression of Love32 in the Stilnovo Authors At the turn of the thirteenth century, the sonnet became the most frequent form of the dolce stil novo33. For those who joined that school, Il sonetto, dunque, descrive un processo automatico, per il quale chi si innamora si fa gentile, perché se non fosse disposto a gentilezza non s’innamorerebbe […].34

Guido Guinizelli from Bologna, the Florentine Dante Alighieri, and Guido Ca­ valcanti, or Cino da Pistoia, were the major exponents of the new style. Considering other authors, who are not mentioned in our short list, the new love poetics is mostly a Tuscan movement. The up-to-date nature of the movement consists of looking for a rational, clear style that would renew the lyrical message. The previous generation, namely the siculo-toscani, is charged with obscurity and inaccessibility. The Stilnovo—a sweet one—privileges the sonnet, as can be observed in the main collections that contain the works of its exponents. The modern editors list five canzoni and fourteen sonnets for Guido Guinizelli;35 thirty-six sonnets in a corpus of fifty-two poems36 by Guido Cavalcanti. Dante’s La Vita Nuova, an intersection of prose fragments and thirty-one poems, twenty-five of which are sonnets,37 is one of the most original works of this poetic line. The conflict between Ghibellines and Guelphs (split into two factions, the White and Black Guelphs) constitutes the historic-cultural background for the evolution of the

32 Cf. Donato Pirovano, Il dolce stil novo (Rome: Salerno Editrice, 2014), 159. 33 This definition is supposed to be a quotation from Dante’s Purgatorio, XXIV, 55–7. Traditionally this is an accepted way of reading the fragment, but it is still a matter of philological debate. Cf. Pirovano, 54–60. 34 Giuliano Tanturli, “Guido Cavalcanti contro Dante,” in Le tradizioni del testo. Studi di letteratura italiana offerti a Domenico de Robertis, eds. Franco Gavazzeni and Gu­glielmo Gorni (Milan: Ricciardi, 1993), 12. 35 Pirovano, Il dolce stil novo, 268. 36 Ibid., 283. 37 Two of them are double sonnets. In the opening part of a sonnet by Lapo Gianni we find a pagan prayer: “Amore, i’ prego la tua nobeltate / ch’entri nel cor d’esta donna spietosa.” Marco Berisso, Poesie dello Stilnovo (Milan: BUR, 2006), 430, lines 1–2.

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movement. What we can observe is an increasing stylistic of prayer,38 even when the general program is secular or heretical, as it has been remarked especially of Cavalcanti.39 The young poets promoted the idea of the nobility of feelings, not that of lineage. The gentle sentiments exalt the poet and his female addressee. The veneration towards woman and Love—a kind of deity—directs attention to the sacrum. In such a context the semantics of prayer has a huge role to play.40 As for potential litanic connotations, we can find invocations to Love, and definitions related with Marian expressions, that we have often observed within the laudas. Donato Pirovano, in his study entitled Il Dolce stil novo, notes a relevant contribution of religious language.41 Nevertheless, it is elaborated in terms of the “subtle” (il sottile), which is opposed to the discourse of the Church, too direct and utilitarian:42 the contrast is declared, but the two worlds meet in the poetry, the secular as well as the religious.43 In terms of poetics, the medieval “subtle” implies a line of reasoning and references close to natural philosophy (“natural dimostramento”44)—this is what the beloved should and be able to appreciate, at least in Cavalcanti’s vision.

38 That is, in Dante Alighieri a Guido Cavalcanti sonnet “Amore e Monna Lagia e Guido ed io:” “sia ringraziato Amor che se n’accorse / primeramente; e poi la donna saggia.” Poesie dello Stilnovo, 194–5, lines 9–10. 39 Berisso, “Introduzione,” in Poesie dello Stilnovo, 12. 40 The Sicilian school manifests a high frequency of the personification of love. Cf. Emmi, Repertorio retorico dei federiciani, 64. The Stilnovo makes Love a receiver of prayers. 41 We find for example a paraphrasis of liturgical prayer, such as Lapo Gianni’s ballad “Amore, i’ non son degno ricordare / tua nobilitate e tuo canoscimento: / però chero perdon, se fallimento / fosse di me vogliendoti laudare.”. Cf. Poesie dello Stilnovo, 411–3, lines 1–4. 42 Ibid., 28. 43 In some Marian laudas written during the thirteenth century, the Virgin is defined as gentle or courteous (“vergen cortés”), as in cf. Giorgio Varanini, Laude dugentesche (Padua: Editrice Antenore, 1972), 18. 44 Cf. Guido Cavalcanti’s canzone “Donna me prega,” line 8. Cf. Poesie dello Stilnovo, 163–73.

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We will examine a verse by Guido Guinizelli, the oldest among the Stilnovo poets, who brought into poetry Aristotelian philosophy.45 In the opening of one of his sonnets, we find a typical Marian expression (ll. 1–4):46 Vedut’ ho la lucente stella diana,47 ch’apare anzi che ’l giorno rend’ albore, c’ha preso forma di figura umana; sovr’ ogn’ altra me par che dea splendore.

Fulvio Brugnolo notes the presence of the epithet in the praises of the Virgin. The attributes, such as splendour, or the dawn of the day, represent the same characteristic. Saying that the beloved takes the shape of a human being, the subject suggests that earlier she had a different nature. The same laudatory expression appears in the next sonnet48 (“più che stella diana splende e pare,” “shining more than a morning star she appears,” l. 3), but its position does not present any litanic relevance. As we could see in the first part of the present study, the presence of Marian chairetisms in the opening of poems was the most characteristic feature of the litanic type of the spiritual lauda. Starting from that period, it would become a typical formal character for the litanic reminiscence in Italian poetry.49 Initially the antonomasias were Marian, but changing in the following 45 Guinizelli, having read the emendations to Aristotle written by Avicenna and Averroes, popularized the ancient philosopher among the poets in the Apennine Peninsula. At the beginning of the fourteenth century the two commentators were well known; Dante mentions them in his Inferno (Inferno, IV, 132, 144: “gran comento feo”). Avicenna and Averroes are the only Muslim philosophers of the entire Commedia. 46 Poesie dello Stilnovo, 81–2. 47 In an anonymous Sicilian author at Frederick’s court we find invocations as “chiara stella.” Cf. “De la primavera,” in 2. Poeti della corte di Federico II, 804–11, line 59. 48 Poesie dello Stilnovo, 82–3. 49 Cino da Pistoia’s corpus seems to be the richest collection among the preserved works of the Stilnovo authors. Usually scholars speak about almost 200 poems, even if a modern critical edition does not exist. Cino represents the younger generation of the Stilnovo poetry: in fact he was often defined as a liquidator of the school (cf. Pirovano, 313–4). In Cino’s poetics we observe not only Provençal and Sicilian influences, but also some intertextual references to Italian religious poetry, namely that of Jacopone da Todi, and generally to the language of devotion. It is imitated, i.e. in the canzone “I’ no spero che mai per mia salute,” and in the sonnet “Omo smarruto che pensoso vai” (cf. Poesie dello Stilnovo, 239–43, 243–4). Following the ways of arranging a number of Stilnovo sonnets by Cino, Cavalcanti and Dante in certain medieval codices, another scholar catches a trait or, better, a way of perceiving the poetic group related to Florence, with its tendency to praise “in direzione della laus.” Cf. Giuseppe Marrani, “Alle

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centuries this rhetoric element will be used to describe living persons, or even the landscape. In a recent anthology collected by Berisso, Dino Frescobaldi is introduced in the main chapter devoted to the post-Stilnovo poetry. Previously this poet had been placed among the “minor” poets but was still an integral part of the canon.50 We do not have any proof of a direct exchange between Frescobaldi and the major exponents of the school, but Pirovano argues that Frescobaldi orbited around the movement51 as a younger poet who was continuing that style. Born in Florence after 1271, he left five canzoni, thirteen sonnets, and possibly other, not definitely attributable, poems. For Frescobaldi the beauty of his lady is indefinable and infinite,52 but she is not angel-like.53 Nevertheless, also in his poetry we find a frequent imago of a shining star, as well as the other canonical Marian descriptions, such as “stella diana.”54 “In quella parte ove luce la stella”55 a sonnet in which an interesting repetitive pattern is exploited. It occupies a separate stanza, a rare phenomenon for a Stilnovo work. Let us quote the entire poem: In quella parte ove luce la stella che del su’ lume dà novi disiri si trova la foresta de’ martiri di cui Amor cotanto mi favella. Quivi fu la mia mente fatt’ancella, quivi conven che la mia luce miri, quivi trae fuor di paura sospiri questa spietata giovanetta bella. Pietà non vi si truova segnoria né umiltà contra disdegno sale, se del tormento morte non si cria.

50 51 52 53 54 55

origini dello stilnovo. Cino secondo ‘la verità della tradizione’,” in Il viaggio del testo. Atti del Convegno internazionale di Filologia italiana e romanza (Brno, 19–21 giugno 2014), eds. Paolo Divizia and Lisa Pericoli (Alessandria: Edizioni dell’Orso, 2017), 65–9. But Pirovano (Il dolce stil novo, 328–31) includes him among the “minors.” Ibid., 229. Frescobaldi is not mentioned among the canonical members of the major Stilnovo group, which includes Dante, Cavalcanti, Guinizelli, Lapo, and Cino. Ibid., 211. Ibid., 216. “Poscia ch’io veggio l’anima partita,” Poesie dello Stilnovo, 383, line 8. Ibid., 386–7.

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Chiamar soccorso di merzé non vale a questa che martiri per me tria, mostrando che di ciò poco le cale.

As can be seen, the text splits into segments in which the lines correspond to the syntax units. The repetition, on the one hand, confirms the general movement of the sonnet; on the other, it exalts the smaller internal sequences and their metrical-syntactic construction. Let us compare this kind of anaphora to the rhetorical set of the litany, in which the repetitiveness is followed by elements that introduce a coherent variatio. In the second quatrain of our sonnet the onset is highlighted (quivi—quivi—quivi—questa) together with the subsequent element, namely a verb (in the last line we have a past participle, included as an attribute of a young beauty without mercy). The enumeration underlines the description of the forest that represents the lover’s suffering, but the text introduces also a Christian lexicon and ideas, such as piety, humility, and mercy, complaining about their complete absence in love. Moreover, in the opening stanza the subject announces that it is Love—a pagan deity—who tells him about the “forest” of the martyr. We can see that in this sonnet a pagan religiosity is founded. The spiritual discourse is useful when the definition placed in the sestet is built up. Frescobaldi’s anaphora, with its litanic value, is drawn on by Petrarch and several times in Boccaccio’s short and long poems. In a twenty-two-line verse, a non-standard sonnet by Lapo Gianni56—a supposed participant of a sea voyage in a sonnet by Dante57—we find a different litanic manner, which merges some structural elements of the litany, namely the enumeration accompanied by prayer. Let us quote the entire poem: Amor, eo chero mia donna ’n domino, l’Arno balsamo fino, le mure di Firenze inargentate, le rughe di cristallo lastricate, fortezze alte, merlate, mio fedel fosse ciaschedun latino. Il mondo ’n pace, securo il cammino; non mi noccia vicino, e l’aire temperata verno e state; [e] mille donne e donzelle adornate,   sempre d’Amor pressate,

56 Gianni Lapo, Rime, ed. Ernesto Lamma (Imola: Galeati e Figlio, 1895), 62–3. 57 “Guido, i’ vorrei che tu e Lapo e io” Dante’s sonnet. Cf. Poesie dello Stilnovo, 188–90.

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meco cantasser la sera e ’l mattino. E giardin fruttuosi di gran giro, con gran uccellagione, pien di condotti d’acqua e cacciagione: bel mi trovassi come fu Absalone. Sanson[e] pareggiassi e Salomone, servaggi de barone, sonar vïole chitarre canzone, poscia dover entrar nel ciel empiro. Giovane sana allegra e secura fosse mia vita fin che ’l mondo dura.

As is observable, the scheme of the sonnet is here re-examined in a free way. Even if the thirteenth-century sonnet had different extended forms,58 the extra lines present usually a clear compatibility with the standard pattern.59 In the analyzed poem we find supplementary lines which include the rhyme scheme starting from the second stanza (baaab), and a new rhyme that joins in line 14—in fact it reminds one of the Provençal cobla capfinida model—is repeated up to line 19. The first aberration could be in some way explained as an extension of the middle couplet of the second stanza—the shorter articulation of line 9 supports this hypothesis too. The couplet closing the poem presents its own rhyme—its function could correspond to that of a ritornello.60 The second stanza is built up on a long enumeration. In the third the framework becomes complex, as in the last two lines two new rhymes are introduced—the second (l. 13) will reappear only once (l. 20), after a six-line monorhymed segment. The nineteenth-century editor

58 In Guittone d’Arezzo we find ten- or twelve-line sonnets; in Monte Andrea there is a sixteen-line one. Normally one of the two parts is expanded, while the other fits the standard. Antonio da Tempo, who theorized the sonnet in his Summa Artis Rithimici Vulgaris Dictaminis written in the first half of the thirteenth century, quotes examples of sonnets that do not present the number of syllables corresponding to the consuetus type (composed almost always of either hendecasyllables or seven-syllabic lines which accompany the hendecasyllables). 59 Irregular sonnets, including standard and shorter verses (and a variable number of lines), which interfere with the standard scheme of rhymes, were widespread in burlesque poetry. Cf. Fabio Magro and Arnaldo Soldani, Il sonetto italiano (Rome: Carocci Editore, 2017), 58–9. 60 But following the principles given by Antonio da Tempo it should rhyme with the last line of the regular pattern. The caudato variation should present a connector (a seven-syllable in rhyme with the last regular line) and a couplet of two monorhymed hendecasyllables which would introduce a new rhyme.

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does not know of other sonnets composed following this pattern.61 We observe that the first two stanzas present two different patterns of rhymes—the rules of the genre are extended starting from the second stanza (abbba), while in the first quatrain the rhyme set is aabb. The internal cohesion of the sonnet is achieved by repeating the rhyme a, b, and c from one stanza to another. The listing of traits contributes to this effect, overcoming at the same time the standard pattern of the sonnet. The presence of mixed versification in irregular positions—the Italian sonnet canon only rarely allows the presence of the hendecasyllable accompanied by the seven-syllable verse—highlights the metrical importance of the litanic enumeration. In our analysis this is the only case in which a litanic modality is exploited as the prevailing metrical factor of the sonnet. Love topics and a prayerful manner—from the semantic and metrical point of view—are widely occurring in the Stilnovo sonnets. This characteristic would become strong in later poetry, achieving other forms. An extreme example is Boccaccio’s terza rima XXII,62 in which a description of what love is and what it can accomplish is supported by the anaphora “Amor” (ll. 1, 7, 19, 31) accompanied by the names of biblical women. Telling what Love is and what cannot be done without Love, the poet uses a rhetoric calque from the “Hymn of Love” by Paul the Apostle (1 Corinthians). In other places the poem can be compared with ideas present from Guinizelli to Petrarch.

12.1  Dante’s La Vita Nuova The libello63 was written, it is supposed, before 1295.64 What differentiates Dante from other Stilnovo authors, especially from Cavalcante, is the idea of the purifying force of love, even when it is not mutual.65 The living beloved is an object of lyrical veneration,66 but the constructive (and poietic) force of the poet’s love is revealed in the works written after the death of Beatrice. For that purpose, Dante’s poetry assumed Marian semantics, a phenomenon that is observable in 61 Lamma’s comment to the text. Cf. Lapo Gianni, Rime, 65. 62 Giovanni Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Vittore Branca (Milan: Mondadori, 1992), 42–3. Branca is convinced that the piece was written not by Boccaccio (cf. editor’s commentary: ibid., 221), but perhaps by an anonymous poet from northern Italy. 63 Dante’s definition in the incipit of the Vita nuova. Cf. Dante Alighieri, Tutte le opere (Rome: Newton Compton, 1997), 668. 64 Berisso, “Introduzione,” 14. 65 Ibid., 33. 66 It seems that the first sonnet ever written by Dante was dedicated to the eighteen-yearold Beatrice.

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La Vita Nuova67 and culminates in Paradiso, XXXII. La Vita Nuova, including sonnets, one ballad, canzoni, and a commentary, manifests religious inspirations mostly in the prose parts. Apparently the sonnets do not include litanic connections, but in “Tutti li miei penser parlan d’amore” (“All of the voices vying in my brain”)68 we find that the first section contains anaphoric repetition of the word “altro” (ll. 1–8): Tutti li miei penser parlano d’Amore; e hanno in lor sì gran varietate, ch’altro mi fa voler sua potestate, altro folle ragiona il suo valore, altro sperando m’apporta dolzore, altro pianger mi fa spesse fiate; e sol s’accordan in cherer pietate, tremando di paura che è nel core.

The repetitio seems not to have any direct religious connection, but it takes advantage of the invocation to Love (l. 1). At the same time the poet begs for mercy (l. 7)—considering the latter in a devotional context, ektenial and supplicatory qualities are revealed. Thanks to the anaphora which presents a fixed pattern (“altro” + verb + abstract noun closing the lines), the effect of insistence could be considered remotely litanic—as far as the model inherited from the Stilnovo allows it—but in the libello the figures of repetition are generally avoided.69 In the sequences of prose in La Vita Nuova one can observe expressions in which the litanic antonomasias are kept in mind, as in the quoted passage: Nove fiate già appresso lo mio nascimento era tornato lo cielo de la luce quasi a uno medesimo punto, quanto a la sua propria girazione, quando a li miei occhi apparve prima

67 Berisso, “Introduzione,” 36–7. “[…] lo Stilnovo nel senso dantesco, quello appunto della “poetica della lode”, dell’autosufficienza soggettiva dell’amore […].” 68 Dante, Tutte le opere, 680. For the English translation see Alighieri, Dante, Vita Nova, trans. Andrew Frisardi (Evanston: Northwestern UP, 2012), available on the site: https://digitaldante.columbia.edu/library/la-vita-nuova-frisardi. Accessed on October 23, 2017. In English the repetition is translated by alternating “one” and “another” in anaphoric positions. The English quotations are from this version. 69 We will find “altro” as a repeated word in the envoi of a sestina by Petrarch (“Altr’amor, altre frondi ed altro lume, / altro salit al ciel per altri poggi / cerco, ché n’è ben tempo, ed altri rami.”), in which the enumeration that follows the anaphora collects words manifesting sacred connotations. In a stanza of one canzone, we read “Alcun è che risponde e chi nol chiama; / altri, ch ’l prega, se delegua e fugge; / altri al ghiaccio di strugge; / altri dì e notte la sua morte brama.” Cf. Francesco Petrarca, Canzoniere, ed. Paola Vecchi Galli (Milan: Rizzoli, 2013), 581–4, lines 38–40; 427, lines 27–30.

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la gloriosa donna de la mia mente, la quale fu chiamata da molti Beatrice, li quali non sapeano che si chiamare.70

Beatrice is the “gloriosa donna” (“glorious lady”) that is widespread as an invocation in the thirteenth-century Marian lauda. Since we do not have other elements (i.e. names of the authors of the laudas, their cultural contexts, or the exact dates of the composition of the praiseful poems), it is possible to point out only an interdiscoursive connection between the lauda and Dante’s representation of the woman “of his mind.” This model is active in other definitions of Beatrice that present religious connotations, such as “regina de le virtudi” (“queen of every virtue”) or the longer phrase “distruggitrice di tutti li vizi,” “enemy of depravity.” The next part of La Vita Nuova (XI) is imbued with religious concepts and language, such as hope, forgiveness, and also “fiamma di caritade” (“flame of charity”) and “viso vestito d’umiltade” (“expression clothed in humility”).71 The latter expression concerns the subject itself, but in the sonnet “Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare” (“So open and so self-possessed appears”) it is addressed to the beloved. We find Marian echoes, possibly linked with the lauda, in Part V of La Vita Nuova (V). This time we are dealing with a direct reference to the Virgin:72 Uno giorno avvenne che questa gentilissima sedea in parte ove s’udiano parole de  l a r e g i n a   d e   l a   g l o r i a,  ed io era in luogo dal quale vedea la mia beatitudine […].73

It is worth concluding that among the achievements of La Vita Nuova there is a large influence of Marian language, which was widely developed in the thirteenth-century lauda in relation to the spreading of the first litanies. Although this phenomenon seems not to have a regular elaboration in this part of Dante’s work—other religious and theological references are more relevant—its presence is not negligible. In the thirteenth-century sonnet the presence of litanic qualities is weak but constant. At the same time, the evolution of the sonnet and correlate forms includes some relevant aspects of the litany, both formal and semantic. A significant feature is the amalgamation of the religious—sometimes liturgical—discourse with the court language. Frederick’s project would have avoided such contamination. As far as the construction of the sonnet is concerned, we find two types of 70 Dante, Tutte le opere, 669. 71 Ibid., 677. About “gloriosa donna”, cf. Concetto Del Popolo, Laude fiorentine. Il laudario della compagnia di San Gilio (Florence: Olschki, 1990), 264. 72 In the thirteenth-century lauda, the common form is “regina gloriosa” or “donna gloriosa.” 73 Dante, Tutte le opere, 672.

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potential litanic references: the chairetismic salutation, strictly connected with the Marian semantics, and the anaphora correlated with the enumeration. The latter corresponds with a particular stylistic arrangement, which allows the creation of new, sacred meanings. A relevant feature is the placement of these parts inside the texts—at the first stage the litanic qualities tend to occupy the octave.

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13  Petrarch’s Litanic Connectors Petrarchan vernacular poetry is connected with his love for Laura. It is worth remembering that we have no Italian poetic records of this author that date before 1327. For a scrupulous person such as Petrarch, this may have been by choice.74 This line of reasoning is followed by Marco Santagata, who stresses that a previous apprenticeship—in Bologna, a blooming center of love poetry, and in Avignon, the capital of popes—should be taken for granted, even if there is no record of it. Why? Because the only purpose of Petrarch would have been pure and specialized poetic language—very different than spoken dialect—with specific topics and lyrical modalities. The project is literary and biographical (where the autobiography is used as a text, as argued by Santagata75), and has no precedents in the history of lyrical poetry.76 Its force would reign over Italian and European poets for several centuries after Laura’s—“laurel—a transparent symbol of the poetry”77—life, and long after the poet who celebrated her in Rerum vulgarium fragmenta. The sonnets included in the book of Canzoniere present several types of repetition. Natascia Tonelli studied the phenomenon from the point of view of both single poems and the macro-structure of the entire collection. She argues: Di nuovo qualche esempio tratto dal canone petrarchesco consentirà di definire le tipologie di ripetizione non necessariamente più frequenti, ma le più significative e formalmente più riconducibili ad una regola generale astraibile e valida dunque non solo ad personam. a) La ripetizione anaforica è un elemento tradizionale e ben evidente cui viene assegnato compito strutturante quando sia collocata a dare avvio ad un elemento metrico;

74 This idea is in Marco Santagata, I frammenti dell’anima. Storia del racconto nel Canzoniere di Petrarca (Bologna: Il Mulino, 1992), 22–3. 75 Santagata, 98: in such conditions the life history can be manipulated and altered when the author finds it either useful or necessary. 76 “La novità del Canzoniere è fuori discussione: nuova, per l’appunto, è l’idea stessa di un raccolta di microtesti non aggregati secondo criteri estrinseci, ma ordinati entro una struttura dotata di un suo complessivo significato.” Partial models could have been found in a few collections of Provençal authors, as Peire Vidal or Giraut Riquier. Two Italian precedents are the organized collection of sonnets by Guittone d’Arezzo and Vita nuova by Dante. Cf. Santagata, I frammenti dell’anima, 111–3. 77 “lauro—simbolo trasparente della poesia,” Santagata, 16.

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b) ma il richiamo intratestuale vero e proprio è metricamente meno scoperto e può funzionare con la ripetizione di ‘parole-chiave’[…].78

Tonelli’s study is principally dedicated to various formal connectors inside the single poems of Rerum vulgarium fragmenta. For the present study, the occurrence, plain, and uncovered, of the anaphora, especially when it appears together with the enumeration, is a first step for further analysis. Sonnet 11279 manifests such a rhetorical manner starting from the second stanza. Let us quote the entire poem: Sennuccio, i’ vo’ che sapi in qual manera tractato sono, e qual vita è la mia: ardomi e struggo ancor com’io solia; l’aura mi volve, e son pur quel ch’i’ m’era. Q u i   tutta humile, e   q u i   la vidi altera, or aspra, or piana, or dispietata, or pia; or vestirsi onestate, or leggiadria, or mansüeta, or disdegnosa e fera. Q u i   cantò dolcemente, e   q u i  s’assise; q u i   si rivolse, e   q u i   rattenne il passo; q u i   co’ begli occhi mi trafisse il core; q u i   disse una parola, e   q u i  sorrise; q u i   cangiò ’l viso. In questi pensier, lasso, nocte e dì tiemmi il signor nostro Amore.

The repetition of “here” (“qui”)—Tonelli registers “a relevant exploitation” of the traditional anaphora as a connector between phrases80—is a first indicator of the litanic character of the poem. But the text includes a two-module repetition—in line 4 the anaphora alludes to the addresser’s veneration, which is then amplified through an enumeration (ll. 5–8) composed of attributes. The unique predicate of this quatrain opposes the accumulation of the predicates which marks the sestet. In lines 5–8 another, short litanic nucleus follows. It detaches the anaphoric adverbs placed in lines 4 (the announcement) and 9–13 (the litanic sequence). It is well known that the attributes of Laura recall some characteristics of the Virgin or the saints (“umile,” “pia,” or “humble” and “pious”) and the love semantics 78 Natascia Tonelli, Aspetti del sonetto contemporaneo (Pisa: Edizioni ETS, 2000), 98. It could concern also inflected forms or the etymological roots. 79 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 450. 80 Natascia Tonelli, Varietà sintattica e costanti retoriche nei sonetti dei Rerum vulgarium fragmenta (Florence: Olschki, 1999), 80.

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present in the Stilnovo, including Dante. The beloved is at the same time an object of desire and a sacred figure. The sequence occupying the sestet presents the fixed formula “qui” linked up with a verb (or a verbal group), which in a litanic context—built up on the repetition—represents the variatio.81 This type of syntactic parallelism seems to be a widespread phenomenon in Petrarch’s collection of sonnets. The announced litanic segment is a factor of the internal cohesion; it bounds the first and the second section of the sonnet, in which the litany is intensified. After Sonnet 112, the anaphoric “qui” comes back three times in the subsequent poems:82 twice in Sonnet 113,83 (ll. 1–6): Qui dove mezzo son, Sennuccio mio, (così ci foss’io intero, e voi contento), venni fuggendo la tempesta e ’l vento ch’hanno subito fatto il tempo rio. Qui son securo: e vo’ vi dir perch’io non come soglio il folgolar pavento, […]

and once again in Sonnet 114,84 (ll. 5–6): Qui mi sto solo; e come Amor m’invita, or rime e versi, or colgo erbette e fiori, […]

In all three poems “here” is a place of love, even when it afflicts, and of peace and meditation. It is opposed to the city of Avignon, the earth of exile, for which an infernal topos is developed85 (“l’empia Babilonia,” “impious Babylon,” Sonnet 114, l. 1). This feature, with a typical moral-didactic tone, is supported by a sound reiteration brought over from the two previous poems. It is necessary to say that the litanic quality becomes here both an internal and a macro-structural

81 It is worth noting the dense alliteration in l. 10, which increases the intensity of the litanic reiteration. 82 In the laudas by Bianco da Siena we notice the modality of dissipation of the anaphoras. It can be realized inside a single poem, but the form of the sonnet is shorter than that of the lauda. Knowing the exact organization of the collection of sonnets, we can speak about a dissipation in a series of poems. 83 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 452. 84 Ibid., 454. 85 Santagata, 172–4. Generally Avignon, and the papal court, are the biblical Babylon.

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connector.86 This delivers elements of unity for little cycles inside the Canzoniere, put together through phonic echoes– it enriches the interpretative possibilities of the book. As in a mirror, in a sonnet from the second part of the Canzoniere celebrating Laura’s memory, the subject searches for the places where the virtues of Laura might remain. The anaphora highlights the two-line sentences of the octave, and the opening of the two three-line stanzas of the sestet. In this way, the iterative element supports the traditional difference between the major sections of sonnet (ll. 1–4; 9–11):87 Ov’è la fronte, che con picciol cenno volgea il mio core in questa parte e ’n quella? Ov’è ’l bel ciglio, e l’una e l’altra stella ch’al corso del mio viver lume denno? […] Ov’è l’ombra gentil del viso umano ch’òra e riposo dava a l’alma stanca, e là ’ve i miei pensier scritti eran tutti?88

The certitude of Sonnets 112–114 is transformed into doubt and inquiry, both expressed through a sequence of rhetorical questions. Celebrating in detail the absence of Laura in the octave (her brow, eyes, the value, the cognizance; her beauty, but also intellectual and moral virtues), the subject recollects her entire person (the gentle shadow, the woman who used to keep in her hands the poet’s life) in the sestet. The litanic tone is here strengthened by the grief over the lost love. At the same time, the formal traits of the litany are accomplished in the unities, in which the anaphoras segment the entire discourse. As far as the modality of questioning is concerned, we should observe that in Italian poetry it is present, together with the litanic repetition, starting from the thirteenth century, in both religious texts, especially those of mystics, and love or comic-realistic sonnets of the thirteenth-century authors. We should conclude, therefore, that this practice is deeply rooted in the rhetoric of repetition starting from the period

86 Cf. works on Petrarchan sonnets (and on the sonnet form) by Santagata and Tonelli. The latter distinguish three types of repeating in Petrarchan sonnets: lexical, phonic, and semantic. The present study is interested in the first and second one. 87 The symbolism of numbers is richer than what we consider in the present work. The number of the repetitions (six)—as is well known in Petrarchan studies—is related to Laura. 88 Sonnet 299. Petrarca, Canzoniere, 999.

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of Origins.89 More than a simple anaphora, an intense litanic repetition at the beginning of the verses is a factor that contributes to the formal cohesion of the sonnet, at least from a rhetorical and metrical point of view—in Petrarch’s poems it unifies the octave and the sestet. A variation on this scheme can be found in Sonnet 145.90 This time an imperative predicate, “ponmi” (“place me”) constitutes the litanic anaphora placed in lines 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 12. The octave manifests a binary litanic connection, while in the sestet the metrical units are regularly tripartite. Moreover, in the first stanza the repetition is accompanied by the prepositions “ove” and “dove” which semantically lead to the opening of the sestet, in which a series of places is listed. The sonnet, as Vecchi Galli observes,91 is addressed to Love. In this case the imperative of prayer brings us to the type of repetition used frequently in the lauda. Tonelli observes: […] una versione accentuata, con i verbi coninvolti, trattati alla stregua del nome, costituiscono una pluralità riconducibile piuttosto all’enumerazione canonica con contiguità dei membri, alle volte dittologia, altre ripetizione anche di tre (o più) membri […]92

The role of the name could be considered litanic, for in the quoted case the enumerations are larger in number than the verbal repetitions, which stress the metrical-syntactic units. A connection between the lists and the anaphora is created, and the latter emphasizes the expressions placed after the fixed part. Let us analyze another poem crowned with an anaphoric repetition, this being Sonnet 205 (ll. 1–11):93 Dolci ire, dolci sdegni e dolci paci, dolce mal, dolce affanno e dolce peso, dolce parlare, e dolcemente inteso, or di dolce òra, or pien di dolci faci: alma, non ti lagnar, ma soffra e taci, e tempra il dolce amaro, che n’ha offeso, col dolce onor che d’amar quella hai preso a cui io dissi: «Tu sola mi piaci».

89 For this reason its background might be searched for in the older literature of the medieval Romania. 90 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 595. 91 A note by Vecchi Galli to the text of the sonnet. Cf. Petrarca, Canzoniere, 596. 92 Tonelli, Varietà sintattica, 23. 93 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 726.

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Forse ancor fia chi sospirando dica, tinto di dolce invidia: «Assai sostenne per bellissimo amor quest’al suo tempo».

The reiterated adjective introduces a series of antitheses put together with nouns. The units can enclose the anaphoric expressions belonging to one semantic field or joining two opposite concepts. The poem opens with a sequence of oxymora in litanic order, in which the fixed part (“dolce/i,” “sweet”) is followed by a litanic component such as “rages,” “contempt,” “accords,” “ill,” “breathlessness,” or “burden.”94 The contradictory elements in the opening announce the series of serenities occurring in lines 3–4. Subsequently the two types are alternated. The anaphoric role of “sweet” is worked out in the octave, but the expression is reused in line 10, creating a strong connection with the first section of the sonnet. We observe a similar process in Sonnet 224 (ll.1–4),95 in which the litanic anaphora, as a conditional phrase, opens lines 1, 3, 5, 8, 9, 10, 12. S’una fede amorosa, un cor non finto, un languir dolce, un desïar cortese; s’oneste voglie in gentil foco accese, un lungo error in cieco laberinto;96

This sonnet grammatically is also a single sentence, composed of a list of doubts. A similar model is followed in Sonnet 312,97 in which the anaphora is based on a negation. We speak here of a polysyndeton (ll. 1–11): Né per sereno ciel ir vaghe stelle, né per tranquillo mar legni spalmati, né per campagne cavalieri armati, né per bei boschi allegre fere e snelle; né d’aspettato ben fresche novelle, né dir d’amore in stili alti e ornati,

94 Following Petrarch’s Songbook, trans. James Wyatt Cook (Binghamton: Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, State University of New York at Binghamton, 1995), 251. 95 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 782. 96 The conditional phrase, and the asking which is related to it, are discussed in my paper “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena.” Furthermore, we find it in another Petrarchan sonnet (132: S’Amor non è, che dunque è quel ch’io sento?) and in a canzone (206: S’i’ ’l dissi mai, ch’i vegna in odio a quella). Included in Petrarch’s collection, we find a similar litanic–conditional gambit playing the same role. 97 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 1031.

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né tra chiare fontane e verdi prati dolce cantare oneste donne e belle; né altro sarà mai ch’al cor m’aggiunga, sì seco il seppe quella sepellire che sola agli occhi miei fu lume e speglio.

The polysyndetic connector organizes the structural aspects of this poem.98 Moreover, the litanic repetition which is built up on a similar scheme of elements, especially in lines 1–2 and 3–4, incorporates a long negation. Besides, the negative particle is a masked instrument of affirmation. By the way, the latter is indirectly present in the analyzed text due to a refined shift after the last anaphora—line 10 is opened by “sì,” which is a contracted form of “in such a way,” though it is homophonic with the Italian word for “yes.” Changing the litanic type, it is worth noting that Sonnet 14699 represents the semantics of veneration through a series of invocations,100 which comprehend the echoes of the Litany of Loreto, as has been commonly acknowledged.101 O d’ardente vertute ornata e calda alma gentil chui tante carte vergo; o sol già d’onestate intero albergo, torre in alto valor fondata e salda; o fiamma, o rose sparse in dolce falda di viva neve, in ch’io mi specchio e tergo; o piacer onde l’ali al bel viso ergo, che luce sovra quanti il sol ne scalda:

98

Sonnet 280 presents the same conjunction that generates a similar effect of connection, but it is limited to the octave part (the anaphora “né” is used in the lines 3, 4, 5, 7). It is worth noting that the separation of the sestet is affirmed through the opposite conjunction “e”, repeated in lines 9–11. 99 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 597. 100 Vergine bella che di sol vestita, ibid., 1204–8 (“O Virgin fair, in sunshine all arrayed,” cf. Petrarch’s Songbook, 411–7.) is a canzone by Petrarch that contains the same litanic features. This hundred-thirty-seven-line poem contains invocations to the Virgin that are placed in regular positions: in the first and ninth line of each stanza (ll. 1, 9, 14, 22, 27, 35, 40, 48, 53, 61, 66, 74, 79, 83, 92, 100, 105, 113, 118, 126, 133). The attribute of the addressee is each time different. We can stress the laudatory (or supplicatory) character of these invocations. Even if in some expected positions direct or indirect attributes do not appear (ll. 9, 74, 79, 92, 100, 105, 113, 126), other potentially litanic features are present, such as the dialogic character. 101 Vecchi Galli includes the observation in the commentary that follows the sonnet.

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del vostro nome, se mie rime intese fossin sì lunge, avrei pien Tile e Battro, la Tana e ’l Nilo, Atlante, Olimpo e Calpe. Poi che portar nol posso in tutte e quattro parti del mondo, udrallo il bel paese ch’Appennin parte, e ’l mar circonda e l’Alpe.

The modern editors enumerate the biblical, litanic, and literary sources of this sonnet. We find it necessary to emphasize that new attributes are also worked out on the litanic model. Apart from a Marian vocabulary, we encounter here a rhetoric calque of vocative modalities and the same type of relation subject— addressee. In this case, the litanic invocations do not unify the octave and the sestet; such a function is realized at the syntactic level. The last rhetorical modality that is worth noting in the present part of this chapter is developed in Sonnet 61.102 The poem opens with enumeration and anaphora: Benedetto sia ’l giorno, e ’l mese, e l’anno, e la stagione, e ’l tempo, e l’ora, e ’l punto, e ’l bel paese, e ’l loco ov’io fui giunto da’ duo begli occhi che legato m’hanno; e benedetto il primo dolce affanno ch’i’ ebbi ad esser con Amor congiunto, e l’arco, e le saette ond’i’ fui punto, e le piaghe che ’nfin al cor mi vanno. Benedette le voci tante ch’io chiamando il nome de mia donna ho sparte, e i sospiri, e le lagrime, e ’l desio; e benedette sian tutte le carte ov’io fama l’acquisto, e ’l pensier mio, ch’è sol di lei, sì ch’altra non v’ha parte.

In the lauda form the biblical formula of blessing is adapted to litanic poetry.103 In the sonnet quoted here the anaphora, combined with the enumeration—a “syntactic and lexical accumulation typical of the Petrarchan openings,” as Vecchi

102 Petrarca, Canzoniere, 293. 103 It appears in the thirteenth-century lauda, but the phenomenon can be observed in an excellent way in some laudas by Bianco da Siena. In any case, we remember that Bianco’s poetry follows in time the circulation of Petrarch’s works.

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Galli argues104—organizes and unifies the stanzas of the text. Accompanying the polysyndeton (the coordinating conjunction “e”) each blessing opens a list which has the length of a whole stanza. As the litanic devices are oftener associated with the asyndeton, the litanic character of this work is not unequivocal.105 As we have only just recalled, the litanic additions to the metrical features of the sonnet starts generally at the beginning of the text and ends frequently in the ninth or eleventh line. This demonstrates the unifying function that the litanic repetitio has inside the sonnet, which constantly needs to link up its two distinctly articulated sections.106 For this reason litanic references do not occur in the closing lines of the sonnets. The opinion, that the relevant phenomena present in the sonnet occur at the beginning or in the end, and in the two lines that link the octave and the sestet, is also shared by Tonelli: Dal punto di vista della ‘costruzione’ del testo, tuttavia, ritengo che la significatività di tali riprese sia rilevante nel solo caso in cui queste si trovino in posizioni metriche significative e nei loro immediati paraggi: che vuol dire soprattutto ai versi 1, 8, 9, 14.107

The litanic connection that we postulate in the Petrarchan sonnet should be considered in its parts-linking potential at the same level as the other connectors— Tonelli lists different forms of repetition (lexical, including that etymological, and finally semantic) between the first and the final line of the poems;108 we find that the litanic devices are even stronger in their capacity to unify the octave and the sestet.

104 Paola Vecchi Galli, Padri. Petrarca e Boccaccio nella poesia del Trecento (Padua–Rome: Editrice Antenore, 2012), 100. 105 As we have remarked, in the lauda the blessings are often associated with litanic repetition. 106 Kleinhenz considers the dichotomy between octave and sestet a convention rather than a rule, especially before Petrarch. 107 Tonelli, Aspetti del sonetto, 98. 108 Ibid., 101.

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14 Boccaccio’s Sonnet Boccaccio’s short lyrical works are less well known than his prose or the longer poems. As Vittore Branca argues: […] a un’attenta lettura delle Rime di Boccaccio, si opposero soprattutto tre pregiudizi antichi e moderni: la recisa condanna risalente al Bembo e al Salviati […], manichea opposizione retorica fra poesia e prosa […], la considerazione quasi esclusiva, nella lirica dell’Ottocento e del Novecento, di questi testi lirici come documenti biografici […], il riferimento (se non la contrapposizione) costante e dominante, anzi presupposto e sempre sottinteso, all’esperienza e al linguaggio irripetibili del Petrarca.109

In the ideal representation of the three crowns of Florentine literature, historiography has kept for Boccaccio the place of a prose author. It is true that Boccaccio’s short poems are a small part of his works,110 and repetitive and enumerative 109 Giovanni Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Vittore Branca (Milan: Mondadori, 1992), 4. 110 In Boccaccio’s longer poems we also find many passages following the litanic pattern, such as the paraphrase or imitation of some Petrarchan sonnets. Let us point out the presence of a litanic model, which is of Dino Frescobaldi first (“In quella parte ove luce la stella”), and of Petrarch next (Sonnet 112): in Boccacio’s Filostrato, it appears in a poem in ottava rima: “Quando sol già per Troia cavalcando, / ciaschedun luogo gli tornava a mente; / de’ quai con seco giva ragionandao: / «Quivi rider la vidi lietamente, / quivi la vidi verso me guardando, / quivi mi salutò benignamente, / quivi far festa e quivi star pensosa, / quivi la vidi a’ miei sospir pietosa. // Colà istava, quand’ella mi prese / con gli occhi belli e vaghi con amore; / colà istava, quand’ella m’accese / con un sospir di maggior fuoco il core; / colà istava, quando condiscese / al mio piacere il donnesco valore; / colà la vidi altera, e là umile” / mi si mostrò la mia donna gentile.»”. Cf. Giovanni Boccaccio, Filostrato—Teseida delle nozze di Emilia— Commedia delle ninfe fiorentine, ed. Vittore Branca (Milan: Mondadori, 1964), 171 (“Parte quinta”, octaves 55–56). All quotations of the soliloquy of Troiolo, who misses his beloved, Criseida, are constructed on a litanic model that create a funerary atmosphere of definitive loss—Criseida is not dead, but she has been given back to the Greeks. Instead, it is Troiolo who would be killed by Achilles in the imminent battle between the two sides. The quoted lines extend the model by adding the second part: “quivi”, or “right here” designates the house where the woman stayed, a place of love. The expression “colà istava” means “she used to stay there” and it indicates the place (= the events) of the love story, a story which has finished. The presence of the final rhyme cc, typical of the ottava rima, does not correspond to the sonnet scheme, but the relation with the sonnetary model is strong, as is the litanic connector, which consists of two elements joined by the affinity of sound (“con”—“colà”). See also the second stanza of Sonnet XCIX, in which an anaphora is introduced by a phrase that

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forms are present in all his poetry:111 in our study we shall consider only the sonnets of this author, and some relevant forms of the anaphoric expression.112 These works manifest a strong connection with the Stilnovo poetics, and with Dante’s and Petrarch’s writing, and some aspects of this relation with the tradition are relevant for the present study. Let us proceed starting from the late Sonnet XCIX,113 celebrating Boccaccio’s close friend—almost like a father114— Petrarch, after his death: Hor sei salito, caro signor mio, nel regno, al qual salire anchor aspetta ogn’anima da Dio a quell’electa, nel suo partir di questo mondo rio. Hor sè colà, dove spesso il desio ti tirò già per veder Laüretta; or sei dove la mia bella Fiammetta siede con lei nel conspecto di Dio. Hor con Sennuccio et con Cino et con Dante vivi, sicuro d’etherno riposo mirando cose da noi non intese. Deh, s’a grado ti fui nel mondo errante, tirami drieto a te, dove gioioso veggia colei che pria d’amor m’accese.

111 112 113 114

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is opened by the same adverb: “Quivi sì vaga e lieta la vedea, / ch’arder mi parve do più caldo gelo / ch’io non solea, e dileguarsi il gelo / ch’in pianto doloroso mi tenea.” (Boccaccio, Rime, 84–5, lines 4–8). The latter poem blends Dante’s and Petrarch’s schemes and moods. In Boccaccio’s Sonnet 20 (ibid., 106–7), the anaphora assumes the function of connector between the octave and the sestet: it opens, in fact, the lines 5, 9, 12. That is, Sonnet L, which is representative of Boccaccio’s fashion of enumerating, seems to have no relation with ways of litanic listing. Cf. Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Vittore Branca, 56. For a wider typology of anaphoras in Boccaccio’s sonnets, cf. Magdalena Maria Kubas, “La ripetizione anaforica nel sonetto boccaccesco,” in Intorno a Boccaccio. Seminario Internazionale, edizione 2016, ed. XXX (Florence: FUP, 2017b). Giovanni Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Roberto Leporatti (Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2013), 245. The filial devotion of Boccaccio for Petrarch is analyzed in Vecchi Galli, Padri. Petrarca e Boccaccio nella poesia del Trecento. Boccaccio was the compilist of anthologies of works that collate him, Dante and Petrarch. Cf. Ibid., Padri, 60.

The poem is an homage (or epitaph, which recalls a literary canon115) to Petrarch, not only because of the topic, but also in its rhetoric modalities and lexical aspect. The unifying function of the litanic anaphora in the structure of the Petrarchan sonnet is here reflected, linking rhetorically the ninth line to the octave. It can be said that in Boccaccio this attitude is rather rare and related to this tribute. In this context, the masters mentioned in line 9 comprise a litany of literary “saints” venerated by Petrarch himself (Sennuccio), or by Boccaccio (Cino and Dante, whom Petrarch did not like to describe as the greatest Italian poets, as Boccaccio did). In order to have a typology of the anaphoric—and possibly litanic—repetitions within Boccaccio’s sonnets, we will quote a poem in which an insisted negatio116 is limited to the octave:117 Non credo il suon tanto soave fosse, che gli occhi d’Argo tutti fe’ dormire, né d’Amphïon la cythara audire quando li monti a chiuder Thebe mosse, né le syrene anchor, quando si scosse invano Ulixe provido al fuggire, né altro, se alchun se ne può dire forse più dolce o di più alte posse,

The subsequent sestet is a positive counterpart, and its origin is in the moment of falling in love (“Quindi nel pecto entrommi una fiammetta,”118 “Thus into my chest a little flame came,” l. 12). Relating to the structural role of the connectors within the sonnet form, we can observe that Boccaccio’s use of the litany is the opposite of Petrarch’s—its function is to emphasize all the circumstances that have lost their importance in the moment of meeting Fiammetta. A formal division among the parts, or moments of life, for the speaker is then created. The sacrum is built up thanks to the references to antique figures and

115 Ibid., 77. 116 In the same group we include the Marian Sonnet LXXX (“Non treccia d’oro, non d’occhi vaghezza”). Cf. Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Roberto Leporatti, 216. 117 Sonnet XLIII, ibid., 129. Another sonnet, XXXIV, includes a stanza constructed on this type of enumeration, but it seems not to be a litanic type (“piova, né vento, nuovol, né sereno, / mago, né negromante n,é indovino, / tartaro, né giudeo, né saracino, / né povertà, né doglia, ond’io son pieno,” ibid., 114–5, ll. 4–8). 118 The etymological figure involves the name of the beloved, Fiammetta, and the meaning of the noun (“little flame”).

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places.119 This kind of different sacred semantics, aimed not at religious but humanist addressees, is frequent in Boccaccio’s lyrical poetry.120 A concentrated anaphoric repetition is a stylistic mark of Sonnet 108121 with the first section constructed on the following scheme: verb in imperative (antonyms: fuggire and tornare, or escape and come back) plus a list of nouns. Fúgano i sospir’ miei, fugasi il pianto, fúga l’angoscia, fugasi il disio che avuto ho di morir; vada in obrio ciò che contro ad Amor già pensai tanto; torni la festa, torni il riso e ’l canto, torni gli onor’ dovuti al signor mio,

As can be seen, the usefulness of the repetitio—which for its structure should be considered litanic—marks the semantic oppositions inside the text. Once again the litanic quality is exploited not in its function as formal connector, but as a rhetoric reinforcement of the metrical division that at the same time highlights the binary character of the octave. Just as in the previously analyzed poem, the sestet presents rather a descriptive character of the positive state of the gratified lover. In Boccaccio we find a litanic accumulation of invocations in Sonnet 2.122 This type does not contradict the structural use of the litanic qualities—we are still speaking about stressing the octave—but here the invocative segments are longer and often occupy all the first section of the text. Poetical doubts arise in Sonnet 12,123 with a litanic anaphora that covers each odd line of the octave (ll. 1–8): Chi crederia giammai ch’esser potesse nel cuor d’una gran fiamma il ghiaccio ascoso? Chi crederebbe ch’è quel poderoso, che petto alcun come foco accendesse?

119 It is impossible not to notice a Christian reference in the opening of the sestet (“quant’una voce ch’io d’un’angioletta”, l. 9), which underscores the division of the parts also in their cultural references. 120 Among the sonnets of the second part of Boccaccio’s collection there is a group of poems devoted to the Virgin, but without any evident litanic relation. 121 Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Roberto Leporatti, 293, lines 1–6. 122 From the second part of the collection, cf. Ibid., 98. The second part includes the short poems, which are doubtfully attributed to Boccaccio, so the numerals are Arabic rather than Roman. 123 Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Vittore Branca, 103.

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Chi crederia che la fiamma facesse tremar alcun, quantunque pauroso? Chi crederia che ’l freddo aspro e noioso a furia alcun per sua forza movesse?

The listing is formally limited to the first section of the sonnet. “Chi crederia/ crederebbe (che)” (“Who would believe”) is the formula that introduces a doubt, which is a matter of believing, so the answer of the second section is focused on the expression “I believe”; starting from line 9 the litany of questions is set on both the rhetorical and the semantic level. In Boccaccio’s sonnets most frequently it is the octave that manifests the litanic emphasis. This is clearly true of the sonnets discussed so far. Nevertheless, we find some exceptions. In Sonnet XXXVIII124 the final, three-line stanza presents the female demonstrative pronoun “questa” (“this”) in anaphora (ll. 12–14): Questa ne dà, questa ne serva honore, questa ne lieva degli anni la squama, questa ne fa di lunga vita adorni.

As in the other Boccaccio sonnets we have examined, the second section is affirmative. It invites the reader to make any effort in order to achieve fame. The reiteration that characterizes the sestet could be a matter of the topic, that is, a general reasoning on death, or on fame, including the idea of diligence and hard work. The sonnet contradicts in some way the usual placement of the litanic repetition by bringing attention to the closure of the poem, while the litanic repetition is strongly affirmative. Sonnet 5125 presents a similarly fashioned final stanza with a litanic climax, in a text that in the first stanza lists the characters and attributes of the beloved. The repetitive part starts in line 10 and manifests itself in two anaphoric words (ll. 9–14): Onde ogni altra bellezza m’è noiosa: questa mi piace e questa vo cercando, in questa ogni mia gioia si riposa. Per lei sospiro e per lei vo cantando, per lei m’aggrada la vita amorosa, per lei salute spero disiando.

As we can observe, the litanic repetition is necessary in order to increase the compactness of the single metrical parts of the sonnet using some specific rhetorical instruments. We can also conclude that in Boccaccio’s sonnet the octave 124 Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Roberto Leporatti, 122–3. 125 Boccaccio, Rime, ed. Vittore Branca, 99–100.

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often exploits the dysphoric states—with one exception the litanic repetitions operate in this way even when they are placed in the sestet. The parts devoted to the euphoric states are often descriptive, so the figures of litany do not fit well, except for two sonnets in which a short poetic litany closes the poem. In these cases the anaphora could have been iteratively constructed ad infinitum, at least this is the impression one gets when reading the closing lines of those poems.

14.1  The Early Sonnet: Conclusions The sonnet is a thirteenth-century, secular invention that seems to have no direct connections with the litany. But, beyond the genesis, its fortune in the late Origins period and throughout the fourteenth century implies transformations and external influences. The need to link the two sections of the sonnet in its evolution leads to the use of some litanic features, such as the immediate reference between anaphoric repetition and semantics of the sacrum, that offer new perspectives of interpretation. Tonelli argues: La tipologia anaforica, meno interessante perché più scoperta ed evidentemente dovuta ad un’intenzione strutturante primaria del testo, ha palesemente questo valore quando l’elemento che si ripete è posto nei versi metricamente rilevanti; diventa artificio attorno al quale tutto il testo è costruito qualora sia collocata in ogni verso sede d’avvio di partizione interna.126

From our point of view the phenomenon is too wide to be summarized in such a dry way. The anaphoric elements seem to be not a mere artifice, but a genuine characteristic since the litanic reiteration is a strong (and very evident, we agree) factor of the internal cohesion of both the sonnet’s sections (when the repetitio concerns the eighth and ninth line). Perhaps the rhetorical division itself reflects some semantic aspects of the poems. Its function of linking the octave and the sestet is mostly founded in the rhetorical aspect, but we should not forget that the homophony of the litanic formulas could be interpreted as an extreme form of homeoteleuton,127 or a rhyme placed where the lines begin.

126 Tonelli, Aspetti del sonetto, 103. Tonelli notes that the reiterated anaphora produces almost a litany in certain sonnets by Gabriele Frasca, a contemporary Italian poet. Cf. Ibid., 103. 127 Menichetti analyzes forms of the rinterzo in the form of sonnet through a repetition of single words inside the Sicilian and Provençal sonnet. Cf. Aldo Menichetti, “Implicazioni retoriche nell’invenzione del sonetto,” in Saggi metrici, eds. Paolo Gresti and Massimo Zenari (Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2006), 109–39.

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Especially at the first stage of development of the sonnet, as Kleinhenz argues, The organic unity of many early sonnets is enhanced by verbal links between octave and sestet, and more precisely between the eighth and ninth lines. These links are established by the repetition of a rhyme or of an exact [sic] or derivative word or phrase […].128

The litanic anaphora underscores relevantly the metrical and syntactic frame of the sonnet. It exploits both binary and ternary subdivision.129 The latter, as Kleinhenz observes, is the most important point of the sonnet: Most readers, if asked to identify the most distinctive or typical trait of the Italian sonnet, would probably cite the so-called “turn” or “changeover” in the inner formal and thematic structure effected by the passage from octave to sestet.130

Except for Boccaccio (and for that very reason this author is extremely interesting for the study of the litanic modalities inside the sonnet), in the subsequent epochs, especially the time of Petrarch, the litanic features are an advantage because they strengthen the cohesion of the two sections and help us to focus on the construction of the “solid hooking”131 between octave and sestet. Sometimes the linking maintains the litanic quality; in other cases in the passage between the sections it is abandoned. Antonelli comments: Quel che sembra importante osservare (ed è anche un’osservazione di carrattere generale) è che le strutture anaforiche tendono quasi sempre a risolversi in strutture parallelistiche più complesse, nel senso che la ripetizione del primo elemento comporta, qualora tale elemento conservi la stessa funzione sintattica, anche la ripetizione, almeno parziale, della struttura sintattica (o ritmico-sintattica) del verso.132

The rhythmical function is here mentioned, and this insightful assertion can be developed in the following way: the litanic framework allows us to examine the significance and range—and the capacity of creating a system—of the anaphoric emphasis both for metrical potential and for meaning.

128 Kleinhenz, The Early Italian Sonnet, 31. 129 Ibid., 50. 130 Ibid., 40. 131 Menichetti, 115. For Menichetti this was the single word repetition between the eighth and the ninth line in the early, Sicilian stage of the evolution of the sonnet. 132 Antonelli, Introduzione, L.

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15 The Cinquecento The sixteenth century is a flourishing period for the sonnet. This fact is related to the formal development of the genre—a three-hundred-year evolution had yielded a harmonic composition of rhetorical aspects and topics, variety of registers, etc. The litanic features inside the sonnet lie dormant at a formal level—a stratum in sedimentary rock would be a good analogy—which concerns the internal rhetorical links of the genre. The Petrarchan sonnet became an ideal space for codification of love language.133 Additionally, Pietro Bembo’s editorial work, which was complete in the first decade of the century (his collections of literature for Manutius defined as illustre had started from Petrarch’s (1501) and Dante’s (1502)134 works) set up linguistic and theoretical standards for the following epochs. It was in these years that the destiny of Italian poetry was determined in large part. Bembo and Manutius had a link with the city of Venice.135 As we have argued before, during the fifteenth century the town had become a fervid cultural center. The beginning of the printing era created a great impulse for the growth of any activity related to letters. In the sixteenth century Venice was a place where a number of poets, including male and female sonneteers, became active. During the Cinquecento, in the era of printing, many women started to write and publish on a large scale. The collection of female poetry is a phenomenon that explodes at this time, with a great number of single-author books and anthologies of works of various poets published throughout the Italian Peninsula. Starting

133 As we recall in other parts of this work, the sonnet is not only a love poem: from the thirteenth century we have also the so-called realistic-comic trend which develops over centuries. 134 The editio princeps of these two authors appeared during the last decades of the fifteenth century: Petrarch’s Canzoniere in 1470 in Venice, the Commedia by Dante in 1472 in Foligno. However, popular and devotional literature was published contemporaneously, as the edition of Fioretti di San Francesco from the late 1460s testifies. For the survey and the study of the religious and non-religious writings published at dawn of the printing era in Italy, cf. Amedeo Quondam, La letteratura in tipografia, in Letteratura italiana, ed. A. Asor Rosa, vol. 2 Produzione e consumo (Turin: Ei­ naudi, 1983), 555–686 and Paolo Trovato, Con ogni diligenza corretto. La stampa e le revisioni editoriali dei testi letterari italiani (1470–1570) (Bologna: il Mulino, 1991). 135 Tuscany and Florence, on the other hand, would offer an alternative center of culture based on classicism.

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in this part we will analyze some female authors that upheld Bembo’s linguistic, poetic, and life rules for those who love—rules that he expounded in Asolani (1505; in the revised version in 1530) and Prose della volgar lingua (1525). Together with poems published subsequently, Bembo sanctioned the standards for the Petrarchism (or the so-called “petrarchismo regolato,”136 a “normalized Petrarchism”) practiced in the sixteenth century. Considering the large number of Petrarchist sonneteers active in the sixteenth century, it is necessary to select a sample of poetry for analysis in the present chapter. This will be based on the works of three female authors: Gaspara Stampa, Veronica Gambara, and Vittoria Colonna. These artists are representative of different cultural centers of the Italian Peninsula (Venice, Florence, and Lombardy, which is a region), and various social milieux (the aristocracy and the upper middle class). The most important feature of the sixteenth-century Petrarchism is perhaps its social (or court, in those times) importance—the artistic skills of an aspiring poet were measured by his sonnets. The situation changed in the later decades, certainly after the Council of Trent. As we have mentioned, in the sixteenth century publishers were well-organized and able to prepare the tools for the wide dissemination of poetry. The sonnet had a large public, and new authors were often anthologized. In this way, for Santagata the Cinquecento is a “galassia di microtesti,”137 a “galaxy of micro-texts.” It is quite a common thing to find groups or cycles of poems printed in a collective edition before their publication in a separate volume by a single author. Thus, for that epoch there is a repertoire of collections that allows one to reconstruct the development of the most popular genres and the fortune of certain authors. We encounter a number of “rhymes of illustrious…” based on the authors’ gender, their regional provenance, or some other criterion. Women poets obtain a well-considered place in very popular anthologies, such as, for example, Rime diverse d’alcune nobilissime, et virtuosissime donne (Lucca, 1559), Rime di diversi illustri signori napoletani, e d’altro nobiliss. intelletti (Naples, the 1550s). In the same epoch the Church was promoting the goal of standardization too, which is of equal importance. After the Council of Trent many aspects of life for the Roman Catholic faithful were normalized, starting with the language—the Tuscan and other italic vernaculars were forbidden—of liturgical and private

136 Marco Santagata, I due cominciamenti della lirica italiana (Pisa: ETS, 2006), 28. Santagata defines the Cinquecento as an epoch of classicism. At the same time during the period of Petrarchism, the idea of a canzoniere undergoes drastic changes. Ibid., 30. 137 Ibid.

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prayer,138 a fact which is relevant for the present study. In the same era the litany was obtaining its definitive shape and function.139 This phenomenon normally was related to a ban on any other—non canonical—text.140 This meant a prohibition on saying litanies in the mother tongue, even if a number of Italian versions had been elaborated and codified starting from the thirteenth century. In the present part of our work, we will go through the success and standardization of Petrarchism—analyzed from the point of view of its relations with prayer and religious meditation—arriving at the crisis which started at the beginning of the seventeenth century and involved semantic models and some formal aspects. The genre preserved its capacity both for innovating other forms and for self-renewal, while love topics weakened across the century and surrendered space to theological, moral, and philosophical arguments that opened the way to the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century scientific, civil, and morally engaged poetry.

15.1  Gaspara Stampa’s Love Commendation From the point of view of stylistic devices related to the litany, the most rich and relevant book of sonnets is the collection of lyrical poems by Gaspara Stampa. This woman put the sonnet at the center of her artistic interest. Stampa was a Petrarchist, but we will see that her use of figures of repetition allows a degree of transgression towards the model that will be here largely considered, too. Gaspara—or Gasparina—Stampa was born in Padua after 1520; soon the family moved to Venice, where Gaspara, her sister Cassandra and their brother Bartolomeo were educated in accordance with contemporary aristocratic principles. Once scholars considered Gaspara a courtesan, but recent studies demonstrate that she was an unmarried woman who chose her two lovers based on elective affinities. For all her life, she cultivated a literary salon and independent art.141 She 138 Giorgio Forni, Pluralità del petrarchismo (Pisa: Pacini Editore, 2011), 41–61. 139 At the end of the sixteenth century many litanies were forbidden. At the beginning of the seventeenth century, the Litany of the Saints and Litany of Loreto were canonized and allowed in the standard forms. 140 The breviary and the Marian Office published after the Council became the only allowed formulas in their field. Cf. Forni, Pluralità del petrarchismo, 42–4. 141 Rinaldina Russell, Italian women writers: a bio-bibliographical sourcebook (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1994), 404–13: the book is the source of information on the lives of all the female authors introduced in the present chapter; Marina Zancan, Il doppio itinerario della scrittura. La donna nella tradizione letteraria italiana (Turin: Einaudi, 1998), 51–4, 155–80. Summing up briefly, Gaspara Stampa was educated following

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dedicated most of her sonnets to her first beloved, Collaltino, Count of Collalto. The second love, Bartolomeo Zen, is also the addressee of a number of poems. Rime by Gaspara Stampa were published posthumously in 1554 in Venice.142 The editor was her sister Cassandra. Considering the quick publication, the scholars suppose that the poems could have been made ready for printing143 during the life of the author. As far as litanic devices are concerned, in Stampa’s sonnets frequently the anaphora recurs together with the enumerative forms of praise. The litanic spirit is revealed first in the sonnets dedicated to Collatino,144 her object of admiration: the way of describing the uniqueness of the beloved is close to religious veneration. Let us mention an original enumeration, in which the saints (present in the litany) are replaced with Roman divinities, who gave talents to the poet’s master145 (ll. 1–11): Quando fu prima il mio signor concetto, tutti i pianeti in ciel, tutte le stelle gli diêr le grazie, e queste doti e quelle, perch’ei fosse tra noi solo perfetto. Saturno diègli altezza d’intelletto; Giove il cercar le cose degne e belle; Marte appo lui fece ogn’altr’uomo imbelle; Febo gli empì di stile e senno il petto; Vener gli dié bellezza e leggiadria; eloquenza Mercurio; ma la luna lo fe’ gelato più ch’io non vorria.

noble models, but she was not a member of the Venetian patrician nobility, a fact that was most prejudicial to a marriage that would suit her education and lifestyle. 142 With the title Rime di Madonna Gaspara Stampa. Con gratia et Privilegio. See also Virginia Cox, Lyric Poetry by Women if the Italian Renaissance (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2013, ebook ed.). 143 Cf. Zancan, Il doppio itinerario, 159–65: the year of Stampa’s death was that of the publication of her poems. There is no manuscript that has survived; even the eighteenth-century edition of Stampa’s poetry (Luisa Bargalli, Rime di madonna Gaspara Stampa; con alcune altre di Collaltino, e di Vinciguerra conti di Collalto: e di Baldassare Stampa. Giuntovi diversi componimenti di varj autori in lode della medesima, Venice, 1738) is based on the edition from 1554. 144 A “concretely portrayed Count.” Cox, Lyric Poetry by Women if the Italian Renaissance. 145 As we note, the feudal terminology is still in use. For the texts cf. Gaspara Stampa, Rime, ed. Maria Bellonci, notes by Rodolfo Ceriello (Milan: Rizzoli, 1976), X; Sonnet IV, ibid., 83.

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Between the fourteenth and the sixteenth-century sonnet all the principles of the Umanesimo movement had matured. Under its influence some original concepts evolved too. In the poem the intellect is a gift of Saturn, the love of beauty pertains to Jove, martial qualities to Mars, style and smartness to Phoebus, grace to Venus, eloquence to Mercury, and “ice,” or coldness in love, is attributed to the Moon. Now, it is worth noticing two interesting phenomena that appear in the sonnet: in primis, the division between octave and sestet is suspended, thanks to the connection between the second and the third stanza. This leads to a new distribution of the internal parts of the sonnet. Moreover the enumeration, unifying names and attributes, manifests litanic modalities—this regular rhetorical manner is interrupted in line 10, in which the personal name, which belongs to the litanic listing, has been shifted from the initial to an internal position in the line. This inversion forms a relevant interference with the anaphoric order that in the previous part strengthened the hendecasyllabic meter (see ll. 5–9) and is146 related directly to the Petrarchan formation of our author: in a few sonnets of her predecessor, the anaphoric repetition shifted to the middle part of the lines creating short and secondary repetitive patterns that could interfere with the most common litanic scheme pertinent to the onsets.147 In the analyzed case the litany is not merely a matter of rhythm, but of compositional strategy—the scanning of the names at the same time stresses and veils the formal connections within the poem. It allows for the simulation of the semantic variatio, and the articulation of the litanic unities, which are equal to the lines of the poem. Likewise, but without the infraction of the rules of the sonnet, Sonnet VI148 exploits in a rather traditional way the last member of the list in order to unify two parts of the poem.149 Sonnet LI150 joins the qualities of hymn and litany. Let us read the entire text:

146 The sonnet, especially in the sixteenth century, is characterized by a stable and standardized versification. The hendecasyllable does not easily accept additional devices that would support its characteristics—we remember the function of the litanic features within the form of lauda. In such a situation, the litanic features usually do not contribute to the metrical aspects of the sonnet. Line 10 of the analyzed sonnet constitutes an exception, in which the versification is also concerned. 147 In Petrarch we have a few examples of a litanic, regular interference to the sonnet versification; see the polysyndeton in Sonnet 133 from Canzoniere. 148 Stampa, Rime, 84–5. 149 Also Sonnets XXVIII and XXXIII, which are based on repetition or anaphora, manifest modalities that we have seen in the previous analysis. Ibid., 98, 101. 150 Ibid., 112.

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Vieni, Amor, a veder la gloria mia, e poi la tua; ché l’opra de’ tuoi strali ha fatto ambeduo noi chiari, immortali, ovunque per Amor s’ama e disia. Chiara fe’ me, perché non fui restia ad accettar i tuoi colpi mortali, essendo gli occhi, onde fui presa, quali natura non fe’ mai poscia, né pria; chiaro fe’ te, perché a lodarti vegno quanto più posso in rime ed in parole con quella, che m’hai dato, vena e ingegno. Or a te si convien far che quel sole, che mi desti per guida e per sostegno, non lasci oscure queste luci e sole.

The incipit recalls the Latin hymn “Veni creator spiritus,”151 in which the Holy Spirit, together with its gifts, is invoked. A number of traces corroborate this interpretation: a plural subject, or “us” (meaning “me and you” in the sonnet, while in the religious hymn it appoints the collective voice of the faithful), and some common images, such as glory and light, which recall the conceptual components of the religious hymn. While in “Veni creator spiritus,” the speaking voice asks for divine illumination, in Stampa’s sonnet its consequence is described as the subject’s and Love’s appearing “bright” (“ha fatto ambeduo noi chiari,” “chiara fe’ me,” “chiaro fe’ te,” “made both of us bright,” “made me bright,” “made you bright”). While in the religious hymn we read about the “lumen,” in Stampa’s reinterpretation it becomes “the sun.” The Latin attribute “Sermone ditans guttura” corresponds to a praise included in the sonnet, “in rhymes and words.” The laudatio is possible thanks to a lay (and purely human) mind—the concept can be juxtaposed to “lumen sensibus,” which is present in “Veni creator spiritus.” As we remember, references to prayers and fragments of liturgy were present in Italian sonnets from the end of the thirteenth century. In those poems Love was depicted as a kind of divinity. Starting from the early stage of the development of sonnet a religious context had been created around Love as a recipient of the lyrical apostrophes. In Stampa’s sonnet this is continued, linking

151 Remaining in the semantic field related to other poetries on the same subject, Stampa’s sonnet is close to the mentioned hymn. However, occurrences of other textual relation cannot be excluded. Cases of liturgy-like sonnets addressed to Love are known in the thirteenth century.

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an invocation to Love with a theological concept,152 that of the Holy Spirit. Moreover, the anaphora “chiara fe’ me”/ “chiaro fe’ te” includes an interior dialogue which unifies the octave and the sestet. The metrical aspect of the Latin hymn results from the Carolingian conventions (or those of the subsequent period).153 It is composed of a regular […] quaternaire iambique, traditionnel dans l’Eglise depuis saint Ambroise [with] huit syllabes et la dernière masculine.154

Stampa’s sonnet conforms to the standards of the Italian hendecasyllable. Thus we can speak about a modernized adaptation of the old form to a longer and rhymed scheme, which imposes a series of new rules to be observed. We are dealing with a kind of transposition, in which a love sonnet—which inherits anyway certain traits of prayer from its predecessors155—accepts an additional religious, or—more precisely—theological tradition, namely the idea of light related to the Holy Spirit and the Christian character of the praised addressee. This new lyrical prayer also acquires some litanic qualities. A case of an extended, hendecasyllabic litany can be found in Sonnet LXXXIV.156 Let us read the octave, which manifests a remarkably litanic construction: O sacro, amato e grazioso aspetto, o più che ’l chiaro sol lucenti lumi, o sangue illustre, angelici costumi, o alto ingegno, altissimo intelletto, o colmi di prudenzia e di diletto, d’eloquenzia profondi e larghi fiumi, o finalmente, ond’io più mi consumi, d’ogni grazia e virtù, conte, ricetto,

Usually, the interlocutor of Gaspara Stampa is her male beloved,157 but in this specific case the object of praise is some physical characteristics and noble qualities. In the initial apostrophe they are defined as “holy.” It is the litanic 152 Perhaps the said link privileges effectively the lyrical (mostly Latin) tradition devoted to the Holy Spirit? 153 André Wilmart, Auteurs spirituels et textes dévots du Moyen Âge latin: études d’histoire littéraire (Paris: Bloudet Gay, 1932), 37–45; 37. Wilmart speaks about “compositions poétiques,” with “Veni creator” as a hymn and “Veni sancte” as a sequence. 154 Ibid., 41. 155 As we remember, the prayer in the sonnets from the thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries carries on either pagan or Christian characteristics. 156 Stampa, Rime, 134. 157 From a grammatical point of view the interlocutor is male.

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construction that provides possible religious associations. It consists of expressions that follow the vocatives starting with the emphatic “o” (+ “aspetto,” “lucenti lumi,” “sangue illustre,” “alto ingegno,” “larghi fiumi,” or “look,” “shining lights,” “illustrious blood,” “high intelligence,” “broad rivers”), and are accompanied with circumlocutive elements (lists of attributes, such as “sacro, amato e grazioso,” “colmi di prudenzia e di diletto, / d’eloquenzia profondi,” “sacred, beloved and full of grace,” “full of prudence and delight / of profound eloquence”). In the recitation the effect should be a double stress in the opening of each line, even in line 4, which starts with a vowel (the so-called dialoepha), and in line 7, in which a secondary accent on “fi-” is possible. A similar effect is partially achieved in lines 9–10. Line 12, unifying the parts of the sonnet, starts with “O morte” (“O, death”) and simulates the invocative tone being in fact a wish, in which the “o” is an emphatic element. The octave is composed on a litanic basis, as far as the repertoire of stylistic devices is concerned: it provides a new poetic model of litany, which still depends on Petrarchan model, but aims to loosen its liason with the religious semantics and exploit the rhetorical and rhythmic model. This modality becomes a habit in Stampa’s writing. It is found, in the form of shorter fragments, throughout her works, for example, Sonnet C and Sonnet CVI.158 In Stampa’s texts we find the blessing-litanic type that we have seen in both thirteenth-century devotional poetry and fourteenth-century sonnet, starting from Petrarch. This particular association seems to have been very productive over the centuries. Sonnet CIII159 is a dialogue with Love, in which the blessing is put together with a double anaphora (ll. 1–5): Io benedico, Amor, tutti gli affanni, tutte l’ingiurie e tutte le fatiche, tutte le noie novelle ed antiche, che m’hai fatto provar tante e tanti anni; benedico le frodi e i tanti inganni,

In the case which is outlined here the anaphora is limited to the octave. The internal connection is strengthened, highlighting the first quatrain, in which the anaphora is accompanied by the rhyme scheme: in lines 2–3 we observe a cooperation of litanic devices in the onset with the sonnetary rhyme scheme (abba)

158 Stampa, Rime, 144–5, 148–9. 159 Ibid., 146.

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at the end of the lines.160 Although the litanic anaphora often links up the major parts of the sonnet, here octave and sestet appear less connected one to another. Sonnet CXI161 is an insistent plea of love proofs, which are organized in two distinct elements repeated in the opening of the single stanzas (“pommi,” “place me”) and in the onset of the lines (“ove,” “ov’,” with the phonically redoubled subtype “o dove,” “oh, where”). As occurs in other poems, in order to draw attention to the reiterative elements, the anaphora of the first type is repeated twice in the opening stanza: Pommi ove ’l mar irato geme e frange, ov’ha l’acqua più queta e più tranquilla; pommi ove ’l sol più arde e più sfavilla, o dove il ghiaccio altrui trafige ed ange;

The alliteration gives a high degree of litanic reiteration which is achieved using the anaphora together with the rhymes, the latter forming a quadruple termination in -illa, -ange, and triple in -ere and -ata. As we are dealing with an imitation of Petrarch’s Sonnet 145, we observe in Stampa’s works a need to reinforce the existing modalities of repetition, which among various means privileges the litanic—in the mentioned Petrarch sonnet we find only one anaphoric term, “ponmi.” Also the set of rhymes, including the series frange—ange—Gange— piange, is inspired by a traditional, Petrarchan sequence.162 The dissemination of the works of Petrarch was followed by the creation and circulation of rimari petrarcheschi, or rhyming dictionaries, which became very popular in the two centuries of Petrarchism. A group of two sonnets, CLXV and CLXXIV,163 builds up a new model of litany that consists of enumerations based on an anaphoric repetition of the articles—these grammatical elements normally restrict the meaning of the nouns, but they do not have any independent meaning. Thus, the litanic character of this formula in some way lacks content and it works as an empty litanic melody. We find it announced in the octave of the first of the two sonnets,164 and then developed into a kind of litany in the second (CLXXIV):

160 In the form of sonnet these two expedients hardly correspond. 161 Stampa, Rime, 152. 162 See Petrarch’s Sonnet 148 with the sequence Gange—frange—ange—piange, lines 2, 3, 6, 7. 163 Stampa, Rime, 186, 191. 164 “S’una vera e rarissima umiltate, / una fé più che marmo e scoglio salda, / una fiamma ch’abbrucia, non pur scalda, / un non curar de la sua libertate, / un, per piacer a le due

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Una inaudita e nova crudeltate, un esser al fuggir pronto e leggiero, un andar troppo di sue doti altero, un tôrre ad altri la sua libertate, un vedermi penar senza pietate, un aver sempre a’ miei danni il pensiero, un rider di mia morte quando pèro, un aver voglie ognor fredde e gelate, un eterno timor di lontananza, un verno eterno senza primavera, un non dar giamai cibo a la speranza m’han fatto divenir una Chimera, uno abisso confuso, un mar, ch’avanza d’onde e tempeste una marina vera.

The speaker, a lover who has turned into Chimera, constructs its soliloquy on an enumeration of love tortures. As we can see, the internal divisions of the sonnet are abolished and the sonnet turns into a list which finds its climax at line 13, in which two elements that previously were associated with the metrical anaphora are condensed. As the phrase composed of article and anaphora has been moved to the second part of the last line, the final two lines stand out from the strong connection between the anaphora and the metrical units in almost the entire poem. We are mostly dealing with the a minor type of the hendecasyllable, in which the second semi-verse is longer than the first. Another litanic effect is achieved through the typographical layout of the onsets—we could consider it a visual litanic order, which is rare within the analyzed sonnet. The anaphoric mark put on the article, which from a metrical point of view usually is unstressed, increases the relevance of the litanic manner in a system which hardly allows rhythmical innovations. Let us remember that the lines of the traditional litanies open with either the invocation santo/santa, composed of two syllables— of which the first is stressed—or the attribute, which has stress on the first or second syllable.165 The latter is the most common anaphoric-litanic device used in the Italian sonnet. However, in the sonnet being here also the elements that follow the articles are often positioned as an internal rhyme or assonance—it suits very well the attempt at creating a reiteration of sound. We should conclude, luci amate, / aver l’alma al morir ardita e balda, / un liquefarsi come neve in falda / mertan per tempo omai trovar pietate.” Lines 1–8. 165 In the official version of the Litany of Loreto only in the line “Tabernacolo dell’eterna gloria” is the first stress on the third syllable. http://www.vatican.va/special/rosary/ documents/litanie-lauretane_it.html, Accessed on November 2, 2016.

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then, that new components are here being employed in order to create a litanic effect in recitation. As far as the semantic aspect is concerned, the sonnet inverts the traditional, positive values of loving166 in order to analyze love’s destructive power. This negative strategy comes back in a fifty-line poem in terza rima— number CCXLI in Stampa’s Rime collection167—and this time the theme of unrequited love is amplified and exploited. All the mentioned factors move us toward a more modern way of thinking about versification, giving the impression of quite a prosaic work of verse. A link with the mystical tradition is established in Sonnet CCVII,168 which opens and closes with invocations to Love. In the final lines the direct addressee is mentioned in the onset, just as in the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century religious tradition (ll. 12–14): Serbami, Amor, in queste brevi paci, Amor, che contra me superbo regni, Amor, che nel mio mal sol ti compiaci.

There are some relevant differences between sonnet and lauda—and it is worth remembering that for three centuries versification had evolved in a precise direction too—but the rhythmical solution adapted in the three lines quoted above draws on the religious, litanic, and popular sources of the early vernacular poetry that are recognizable, as just mentioned, through the scheme of stresses with usually the second or, optionally, the fourth syllable stressed. On the basis of our analysis we can draw the conclusion that the dialogic character is a general frame of Gaspara Stampa’s works,169 in which litanic techniques, both the anaphoric and the enumerative, are operative. Some of these litanic “factors” contribute to a certain degree of individual autonomy in standardized versification. It is difficult to define the direct influence of the litany analyzing this secular poetry as the litanic memory is mediated through, e.g. the Petrarchism, which itself includes remote litanic links. But beyond the tradition in Stampa’s works we find new litany-like schemes, present among other repetitive and invocative components. On the one hand the litanic qualities are reinforced, and new aspects are even developed; on the other, the relation with the litany is veiled because of the weak link between this poetry and devotional literature. 166 Love manifests positive characteristics even when it is one-sided, or when the addressee has died. The power of love is usually constructive in the Italian sonnet. 167 Stampa, Rime, 230–1. 168 Stampa, Rime, 212. 169 As Marina Zancan argues.

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Stampa treats the Petrarchan legacy in a direct way, or reworks it involving newer, reiterative patterns—in such a way the litanic devices become part of Stampa’s lyrical experiments which help the individual style of this sonneteer evolve.

15.2  Veronica Gambara’s Rime Leggiadre Veronica Gambara was an older female author, born in 1485—and thus a poet writing in the first decade of the sixteenth century170—whose sonnets contain original repetitions, some of which can be defined as litanic. Having become a widow in 1518, Gambara ruled the court of Correggio and devoted her life to poetry written in memory of her beloved husband. For many years Gambara was a correspondent of Pietro Bembo—who highly appreciated her poems—as well as of Vittoria Colonna, Pietro Aretino, and other major intellectuals of her epoch. Gambara did not leave an organic canzoniere. She was an acknowledged part of the Paduan-Venetian intellectual circle headed by Bembo,171 and her poems were usually included in anthologies of rime printed in the Apennine Peninsula.172 Her small, but relevantly litanic body of verse is the object of analysis of the present part of this study. Several works by Veronica Gambara exploit forms of repetition. Among them there is Ballata 10173 with a refrain, which is a form that was rather exceptional for the highbrow Italian poetry of that epoch. It is introduced in the opening of the poem in the full, four-line version and its first line is used successively after each of the eight-line stanzas.174 Unlike the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century ballad,

170 Letters exchanged with Pietro Bembo from 1504 mentioning lyrics of Gambara have been preserved to our day. “Leggiadre,” which means “graceful,” is the description that Pietro Bembo gave of the rhymes of this poet. 171 Cf. Eds. Guglielmo Gorni, Massimo Danzi, and Silvia Longhi, Poeti del Cinquecento, vol. 1 (Milan–Naples: Ricciardi, 2001), 229. Pietro Bembo in the early sixteenth century gave an example of a love treatise (Asolani, 1505) based on the reading of Petrarch’s poetry. Bembo’s writings are always, implicitly or explicitly, lessons of literary style. 172 Her rhymed poems were published in Rime di diversi eccellenti autori bresciani printed in Venice in 1553 and in Rime diverse d’alcune nobilissime, et virtuosissime donne, an anthology mentioned in the preliminary remarks to this part of our work. Her collected works were printed in 1759 by Felice Rizzardi. Cf. Cox, Lyric Poetry by Women if the Italian Renaissance. 173 Veronica Gambara, Le rime, ed. Alan Bullock (Florence–Perth: Olschki–Department of Italian Studies of The University of Western Australia, 1995), 66–7. 174 The text presents rather a particular rhyme scheme too: xyyx y ababbccy.

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Gambara’s texts do not cultivate any reference to the language of the litanies. An original construction, which goes beyond the known, anaphoric litanic manner, is used in Sonnet 6 (ll.1–10):175 Libra non son, né mai libra esser spero dal crudel laccio ove già fui legata, perché troppo mortal la piaga è stata che già ferì mio cor puro e sincero. Né libra mai sarò da un sol pensiero, nel qual dì e notte sempre isto occupata, che la mia libertà, qual t’ho donata, non sprezzi, ahimè! tuo cor superbo e fiero. Né libra da timor, né libra ancora mai sarò da martir, da acerbe pene

This work of Gambara, which is devoted to a secular topic, presents a high degree of litanic potential that is not, however, used as a factor of formal or metrical cohesion. On the contrary, it seems to break up traditional rules of composing sonnets worked out over the centuries. Sonnet 6 is a dialogue with an absent interlocutor, to whom a grammatically female subject confides her self-examination: the first line “I am not free, nor free never hope to be” outlines the basis for several litanic variations—we will define in this way a sequence of phrases, which are opened each time by a formula and contain a fixed number of elements, which can be combined following different syntactic orders176 These variations occupy either half of a line, or a line, or even more than one line. Their extent is freely adapted to the enumeration of the ways that the subject feels imprisoned spiritually and in love. An intimate style of thought and reminiscence of the past are the most original features of Gambara’s works. In this context we find a litanic interpretation of the topic of memory. Let us have a quick look at Sonnet 14,177 which manifests the anaphoric modality calqued on some other works which have already been analyzed in this chapter. The insistence on the attributes of memory distinguishes the sestet from the first part of the sonnet, in which the anaphoric element has been announced in line 3. But let us read lines 9–14: La memoria mantienmi e mi disface; la memoria mi fa lieta e scontenta;

175 Gambara, Le rime, 62. 176 “Non” and “né” introduces the litanic anaphora. The variations concern, for example, syntactic order and verbal tenses of the elements of the initial phrase. 177 Gambara, Le rime, 70–1.

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ne la memoria il ben e ’l mal mio iace. La memoria m’allegra e mi tormenta; dunque da la memoria ho guerra e pace, e in tal variar lei sola mi contenta.

It is worth noting that in some quoted poems by Gaspara Stampa178 we have encountered similar patterns in which the last repetition of the anaphora shifts in the middle of the final line of a poem.179 We conclude, then, that for a number of sonnets dealing with this type of litanic strategy, once the anaphoric element is established its memory allows modifications of its pattern in the last part of the sonnet.

15.3  Vittoria Colonna and Her Spiritual Petrarchism Vittoria Colonna’s love canzoniere could be characterized by certain details given for the works of both Gambara and Stampa, for there is no poetry written before her marriage to Ferrante d’Avalos, the marquis of Pescara. Moreover, almost half of her works—the sonnet was the privileged genre of this writer—were created after the death of her husband at the end of 1525. Thus their first purpose was praise of Ferrante. The sonnets of Vittoria Colonna are in Petrarchan style. They were composed “in death,” and there are no rhymes “in life,”180 as Guglielmo Forni observes. There are other premises, however, that led Colonna to be a complex and strong poet at the same time. She was a member of an influent, aristocratic Roman family, one of the protagonists of sixteenth-century history, and this aspect of Colonna’s life is reflected in her epistles and civil poetry. Vittoria knew personally artists and intellectuals of her times, among others Michelangelo, who wrote several sonnets that address her as “a friend,” especially after her death. Yet what is more important for the evolution of her poetics, is that in the mature stage of her life Colonna searched for a spiritual way of living and expressing her faith. The need for a spirituality which goes beyond the standard way of living the faith led her to engage in a dialogue with some exponents of the Reformation and evangelical homiletics, such as Juan de Valdés, introduced to Colonna in Naples in 1530. In 1532 she publicly supported the Capuchin order, which had been created few years before, and at that time was being threatened 178 That chronologically follow the discussed work by Gambara. 179 As far as this trend is concerned, we remember also some Boccaccio sonnets examined in the previous part of this work. 180 Following Forni it is the first indicator of poetic originality and independence. Cf. Forni, Pluralità del petrarchismo, 71.

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by the Roman authorities. In Ferrara Colonna attended the Franciscan preaching of Bernardino Ochino.181 She was also in touch with other movements that popularized the renewal of the Catholic Church and of its institutions. The spiritual practice influenced both her moral poetry and a particular interpretation of Petrarchism, which started to be referred to spiritual matters. During the 1540s she attended the meetings of the circle of Reginald Pole, a cardinal who escaped from the England of Henry VIII, and to whom she subsequently left a huge financial legacy. During that period some of her spiritual counselors were condemned by the Inquisition: after Colonna’s death in 1547, and even starting from 1538,182 the suspicion of heresy hung over her head, too.183 Vittoria Colonna is considered one of the most important figures of late Humanism. As a female intellectual she was admitted into cultural circles which before had only been open to men. She enriched the civil and ethical debate of her times, too. This extraordinary woman in her love poetry followed the principles of Il Cortegiano by Baldassarre Castiglione184 as she was a convinced promoter of this work. Analyzing her criticism toward the Roman Church, scholars highlight the relation with the spirituality of Marsilio Ficino on the one hand, and Savonarola’s preaching on the other.185 Colonna’s late works, especially the religious ones, initiate a new style in the representation of the Passion, in which

181 Marian representations in Colonna’s poetry seem to be influenced by Ochino’s preaching. Ibid., 77–8. Of course Petrarch is an important poetic predecessor in this field. 182 In 1538 Colonna’s poetry was published, without the permission of its author. In general, Colonna probably composed more than one canzoniere: her Rime are divided into sections, starting from the poetry devoted to her husband, followed by spiritual and moral rhymes. This set of course does not reflect the chronological order of her works. Cf. Pierre de Bouchaud, Le poésies de Michel-Ange Buonarroti et de Vittoria Colonna. Essay sur la lyrique italienne du XVIe siècle (Paris: Bernard Grasset, 1912), 223. Bouchaud suggests that the most interesting literary heir of Colonna is the seventeenth-century poet Gabriello Chiabrera. 183 Colonna’s poems “began to appear from 1538 and proved immediately popular with the reading public;” “Colonna’s religious verse continued to circulate in the period following the Council of Trent and was reprinted in 1586.” Cox, Lyric Poetry by Women if the Italian Renaissance. 184 Bouchaud, Le poésies, 190. Colonna read the work before its publication, probably in 1525, and tried to popularize it without the permission of its author. 185 M. Mazzetti, “La poesia come vocazione morale: Vittoria Colonna,” Rassegna della letteratura italiana LXXVII(1973).

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the distress of the subject is rich and luxuriously adorned.186 Colonna’s texts are usually divided into love rhymed poems (Rime amorose), epistolary rhymed poems (Rime epistolari), and spiritual-moral rhymed poems (Rime spirituali)—the latter represents the latest stage of her life and poetics. In Colonna’s sonnets the frequency of litanic references is not as high as in Gaspara Stampa’s lyrical works. At the same time, Colonna’s way of developing the sonnet is innovative, especially when she contaminates the genre with the prayer, including the litany, as the litanic connectors unify not only the internal parts of single sonnets, but even cycles of them. We shall analyze the litanic modalities in Colonna’s Rime, a collection that in its modern edition includes 52 love sonnets, 179 spiritual sonnets, 38 uncollected poems, and 32 epistolary sonnets. A relevant feature of Colonna’s poetics is the continuous dialogue with a receiver who has a high status, to whom the subject addresses all the doubts. The responsorial technique integrated with the sonnet form is mostly different than litanic, even when it occurs in religious poems. The subject, then, in the soliloquy, explains to herself the ways of spiritual life and humility. Forms of repetition are recognizable in Sonnet 6,187 included in Rime spirituali disperse. In the octave, the Lord speaks in the first person: his auto-definition is realized through a triple anaphora: “Sono il principio” (“I am the beginning”), “e son del mondo il Sole” (“and I am the Sun of the world”), and “Sono il Pastore,” (“I am the Shepherd,” ll. 1, 2, 5). The narrator and the listener are involved; however, they two become the same person in the text, as a mark of enunciation “dice il Signore,” (“says the Lord,” l. 2) is added in Dantean style. In the Italian context it seems to be a unique acknowledged case of a poem with an attempt at a self-definition of God—it is a reverse side of the litanic descriptions of the addresses of many laudas, which open with the apostrophe “you are.” In this sonnet, the sestet presents the responsorial character. It contains above all a question of one of the faithful, followed by a piece of advice. The second part starts with a predicative expression in the third person and continues with an anaphora, which is built up on a reiteration of sound (the phoneme “ch” is [k]) placed in the onset (ll. 9–11): S’Egli è Pastor, Principio, Lume e Vita, che guida o fine avrà, luce o salute, chi non ha Seco l’alma in pace unita?

186 See Colonna’s prose “Pianto sulla passione di Cristo” and the prayer-like “Orazione sull’Ave Maria.” 187 Vittoria Colonna, Rime, ed. Alan Bullock (Rome–Bari: Laterza, 1982), 180.

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This sonnet involves different levels of litanic construction, i.e. the anaphoric repetition and a question-answer scheme. Apropos of the quoted opening, among the sonnets by Colonna we have a number of definitions of the divine, in which the pronoun of the third singular person is multiplied.188 It occurs in Sonnet 176 from Rime spirituali,189 in which the second quatrain and the first tercet are linked up through an anaphora (ll. 5, 9): Ei qui ti satisfece, ivi Ti rende […] Ei degno e giusto agli occhi Tuoi ricopre

Not only is the central part of the sonnet here stressed, but the pronoun comes back—this time it is declined in the final part (“Con Lui mostro il mio duol, con Lui fo il pianto,” “With Him I show my sorrow, with Him I cry,” l. 12). As Pierre Bouchard argues: Nous avons insisté longuement sur les derniéres poésies de Vittoria Colonna, parce qu’elles inaugurènt un genre peu connu jusqu’à ce moment. Ni Dante, ni Pétrarque n’en composèrent de cette sorte. Et il faudarit remonter, pour trouver des exemples analogues, aux poèmes de langue d’oc, éclos au lendemain de la croisade contre les Albigeois […] Nous trouvons ici un example de la transformation de la lyrique courtoise en poesie religieuse.190

In the following pages Bouchard speaks about a “lyrisme chrétien”191 as the inspiration, and a legacy, of Colonna’s poetry, a tendency which would be inherited by some poets of the late sixteenth century. If Colonna’s love poetry acquired original features—as is commonly acknowledged—overcoming the usual implications of the Petrarchism of that epoch, her spiritual poetry inaugurated a new trend in the sonnet. But to return to the early stages of Colonna’s work, let us remember that the precepts worked out by Bembo were based on the fifteenth-century evolution of Petrarchan heritage and the cultural achievements of the era of print. Starting from 1538, when the Parma edition of Colonna’s rhymed poems was published, an early stage of her religious poetics was operative: a few spiritual sonnets included in the book report the desire of being inspired by Christ’s sacrifice.192 The date mentioned seems to be crucial in the development of that 188 In the laudas (hardly at all in the early sonnets), we have observed the use of the second-person pronoun that was used to define the addressee (“Tu sei”). 189 Colonna, Rime, 173. 190 Bouchard, Le poésies, 262. 191 Ibid., 263. 192 “Nota sul testo,” in Colonna, Rime, 224–6.

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topic in Colonna’s poetry.193 The poet, with her idea of spiritual renewal, is interested in the vernacular tradition of religious discourse, which is partially analyzed in the present book, in the chapter devoted to the medieval lauda. Among the love rhymes by Colonna—those written in her youth, but after Ferrante’s death—we can find some brief but interesting forms of enumeration, for example, lists of natural elements that are indirectly invoked to testify the mourning related to the loss of the virtuous man, as in Sonnet 15.194 The references to the traditional religious poetry and prose are direct in the group of spiritual poems composed in the period of artistic maturity195—in some sonnets the saints are invoked, in others relevant biblical references appear.196 In the late stage of Co­ lonna’s poetry Latin inspirations are frequent,197 and stories of medieval figures are told (for example stories about Catherine of Alexandria and Francis of Assisi, in Sonnets 122 and 123198). Sequences of poems praise a poor and humble life as a model for all Christians (cf. Sonnet 134 “Alta umiltade e sopra l’altre cara,” which opens with an oxymoronic invocation “high humility”). Some medieval references enrich Colonna’s Petrarchism: the spiritual illumination is lexically revealed using the verb “allumare,”199 for example in Sonnet 178.200 The interaction between lauda and litany seems to be brought into use again, with new patterns, which concern among other things the blessings. As we remember, the last-mentioned form has biblical roots, but it became common to sonnet and lauda during the fourteenth century. God and Christ are the most frequently invoked addressees of Colonna’s lyrical prayer.201 We find then a small group of sonnets devoted to the Virgin—the poem entitled “Vergine pura, che dai raggi 193 Ibid., 226–7. 194 Ibid., 10. 195 “Nota sul testo,” ibid., 223. 196 Forni, Pluralità del petrarchismo, 72. 197 Ibid., 73. 198 Colonna, Rime, 146. Apart from the lyrical lauda, narrative laudas were also popular in the thirteenth century. Cf. e.g. Giorgio Varanini, La più volgare in onore di Sant’Antonio, in Storia e cultura a Padova nell’età di sant’Antonio (Padova: Istituto per la storia ecclesiastica padovana, 1985), 442–53. 199 The verb presents a spiritual meaning in the letters of Guittone d’Arezzo and poetry of Jacopone da Todi, but it can be found also in Da Lentini’s, Dante’s, Petrarch’s and Boccaccio’s poems. Cf. TLIO, the dictionary of the early Italian writers, http://tlio. ovi.cnr.it/TLIO/, Accessed on November 3, 2016. 200 Colonna, Rime, 174. 201 But we find also the Holy Spirit, “Spiriti del Ciel” (“Heaven Spirits”), and other saints (Ignace). In the love rhymed poems the Sun is the lost beloved (“sole”). Within the

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ardenti” (“Pure Virgin who in burning light”)202 is the most well known. We note the strong inspiration taken from Petrarch’s “Vergine bella che di sol vestita.” While the fourteenth-century poem was a canzone, Colonna wrote a sonnet with some circumlocutions that can be found in the tradition of Marian praise and that were widespread in the previous centuries in the lauda form. Let us draw attention to some vocatives, such as “Vergine pura” (“Pure Virgin”) and “Donna del Cielo” (“Lady of Heaven”).203 The enumeration that opens the sestet is a variation on the signum crucis. Two antonomasias appear: one defines God, the other the Virgin (ll. 9–14): Immortal Dio nascosto in mortal velo L’adorasti Signor, Figlio Il nudristi, L’amasti Sposo, e L’onorasti Padre; prega Lui dunque che i miei giorni tristi ritorni in lieti, e tu, Donna del Cielo, vogli in questo desio mostarti Madre.

The following sonnets deal with similar types of litanic features based on the initial invocation which has its roots in the early language of the religious poetry in Italy. Sonnet 101204 starts then with “Stella del nostro mar, chiara e secura” (“Star of our sea, bright and sure”), Sonnet 103205 opens with “Donna, dal Ciel gradita e tanto onore” (“Lady, [who is] the joy of Heaven and a high honor”). If we consider that Marian sonnets are not the largest part of Colonna’s poetry, it is observable that the expressions cited create a Marian cycle, a thematic group of poems that uses a certain branch of the literary tradition which unifies various litanic patterns. It is worth noting that our assumption does not concern any more single pieces. Colonna’s litanic schemes are put into practice on a “macro”-level: Marian

spiritual sonnets it is capitalized and it refers to God or Christ (“Sole”). Cf. Colonna, Rime, 147–49. 202 Sonnet 100 is transmitted by fourteen different manuscripts and it is the most widely diffused among Colonna’s writings. Cf. Alan Bullock, “Un sonetto inedito di Vittoria Colonna,” Studi e problemi di critica testuale 2(1971): 229–35; 230. Sonnet 100, Colonna, Rime, 135. 203 Lines 1, 13. The phrases are present in Petrarch’s Canzone 366. Colonna’s sonnet retrieves also the conceptual or dogmatic characteristic of Petrarch’s poem, an idea that moreover was widespread in the Middle Ages, that of Mary as mother, daughter, and bride of Jesus. “Donna del Cielo” cannot but recall Jacopone da Todi’s “Donna del Paradiso.” 204 Colonna, Rime, 136. 205 Ibid.

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phrases (antonomasias, circumlocutive expressions, etc.) referable to pre-Petrarchan and Petrarchan poetry occur in other poems of Colonna’s collection too. Let us quote some of them, such as Sonnet 134,206 in which the Virgin is invoked through her attributes (l. 1, “High humility and dear over the others,” “Alta umiltade e sopra l’altre cara”). In other poems the position of invocation or apostrophe is not maintained, and Marian expressions acquire different syntactic and rhetorical functions. In Sonnet 131207 the Virgin is given names, but not invoked (l. 12: “de la Donna del Cielo,” “of the Lady of Heaven”); in Sonnet 173208 a descriptive element, which is calqued on the litanic attribute (“eterna Fonte,” “eternal Spring,” l. 3), accompanies the vocative “o Fonte vivo / di pieta vera,” “oh, living Spring / of mercy,”209 which brings us back once again to Petrarchan memory of “Vergine bella che di sol vestita.” It is once again worth emphasizing that Petrarchan elements are largely operative in Colonna’s poetry together with other trends, or specific litanic patterns, even older than those of Petrarch. In this group we have Sonnet 21,210 which is composed of a sequence of negative elements starting with “né.”211 The anaphora is not arranged in a symmetric manner, as occurred in Petrarch. Let us read a fragment (ll. 1–10): Qui non è il loco umil, né le pietose braccia de la gran Madre, né i pastori, né del pietoso vecchio i dolci amori, né l’angeliche voci alte e gioiose, né dei re sapïenti le pompose offerte, fatte con soavi ardori, ma ci sei Tu, che te medesmo onori, Signor, cagion di tutte l’altre cose. So che quel vero che nascesti Dio sei qui, né invidio altrui, ma ben pietade

Enjambments and periphrastic phrases support what we call here an effect of interference to the regular hendecasyllabic articulation of the verse. Their presence redoubles the anaphoric pattern, splitting the hendecasyllables inside the first quatrain. In a recitation it will be strongly linked with the sestet, in which 206 Ibid., 152. 207 Ibid., 150. 208 Ibid., 209 See also Petrarch’s Sonnet 203. 210 Colonna, Rime, 95. 211 Cf. e.g. Petrach’s Sonnet 312 “Né per sereno ciel ir vaghe stelle.”

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the conjunction “né” occurs in the middle of the line 10. A similar structure is realized in Sonnet 69.212 It concerns the adverb “here” (“ivi”) and the final conjunction “for” (“per”) which break the fluent hendecasyllables into shorter units (9–11). Ivi s’appaga e vive, ivi s’onora per umil fede, ivi tutta si strugge per rinovarsi a l’altra miglior vita;

The anaphoric units present different measures, so that the syntactical irregularity, which is litanic, meddles with the harmony of the regular hendecasyllable. The examples mentioned illustrate the principal ways of dealing with the Petrarchan heritage, where litanic repetition is concerned. The reception of the great predecessor is never passive: Colonna enriches the semantic of Petrarchism by developing a new tendency. Her poetics links up the spiritual, Christian discourse with the sixteenth-century sonnet. In her sonnets Colonna recalls the religious vernacular poetry of the Italian Peninsula. In spite of this union, the influence of the litanic convention is not ostentatious. In fact, it is elaborated in a particular manner. In the sixteenth century, the form of the sonnet had achieved formal perfection and internal harmony—its high status made more difficult any structural elaboration. As we remember, in the fourteenth century the litanic poetics mostly unified octave and sestet, and in the sixteenth century this is not a priority anymore. The praising quality of the litany and the antonomasias help to compose cycles of texts, especially on the Marian topic. The litanic characteristics go beyond the level of a single text. Moreover, in some cases rhetorical devices originating in the litany support the syntax by creating short pauses in the canonical verse—we speak about the interruptions which are made apart from the two canonical ceasurae. We would define it as a tendency to transgress the regular, harmonic hendecasyllable by introducing anaphoric and apostrophic alignment in the middle of the lines. The trend is not very strong, but it seems worthy of note.

212 Colonna, Rime, 119. In this case, the reference should be made to Petrarch’s Sonnet 275.

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16 Tommaso Campanella: Sonnet and Philosophy at the Turn of the Seventeenth Century In the first years of the seventeenth century, Tommaso Campanella—a Dominican best known as the author of a philosophical utopia entitled La città del Sole, and perhaps less famous as a poet—also wrote several interesting sonnets. During his lifetime only a shadow of suspicion about orthodoxy could bring a Catholic freethinker into trouble with the Roman Inquisition, and from 1594 to 1629 it was the case of our friar too. Campanella questioned the mainstream way of thinking of some Catholic leaders, together with the habits and customs of the faithful.213 Five times he was brought to trial, which included interrogations, confiscation of his manuscripts,214 torture, imprisonment, and, periodically, prohibition on writing. The Reformation had raised criticisms from which there was no way back: in that period, as in others, inside the Roman Church innovative or critical voices coexisted with conservative factions. Campanella, like many other intellectuals, hoped for a spiritual renewal of humanity—in such a framework his addressees are either personal (the Pope) or collective (poems to the nations, the sinners, the misbelievers). Campanella published his philosophical and theological works starting from 1591. With regard to his poetry, a book of selected works appeared in 1622 in Paris with consent of the author. No es un teórico de lo verosímil maravilloso al uso cinquecentesco, ni sigue el gusto por lo extravagante del Seicento, él es un poeta filósofo que cree en la poesía como proceso de intervención en la realidad, una poesía con capacidad para la regeneración moral, social, política y religiosa y cree, con Bruno, que el lenguaje poético y metafórico de la Biblia obedece a esta función de regeneración que era tan necesaria en su tiempo.215

213 Critical tendencies, which do not imply the desire to leave the Roman Church, are present in Italian literature starting from the moral, Franciscan, and mystical poetry of the thirteenth century and persist in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Even the most important exponents of the Humanism of the latter epoch criticized the Church, but before the Reformation the menace of heresy had been hanging less ominously over Catholics’ heads. 214 In a furtive way in the 1590s during his stay in Bologna. Teresa Losada Liniers, “ ‘Io accesi un lume’,” Cuadernos de Filología Italiana 6(2000): 254. 215 Ibid.: 256.

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The arguments of his poems are strongly related to the language of philosophy— in such a way the form of sonnet is not monopolized by the topic of love anymore, but focused on rhetoric and persuasion.216 On the one hand Campanella considered himself a successor of the tradition of Magna Grecia, the region of poets-philosphers,217 on the other he popularized a new thematic line in the sonnet, from which philosophical and scientific poetry of the following centuries would take a vital impulse. In Campanella’s poetry, the wisdom is associated with noblesse—discernment and judgment replace passion. Their conceptual relation with noblesse is a reinterpretation of the rules of the Stilnovo school, which had exalted the spiritual capacity of loving. Among the literary genres practiced by Campanella we can find sonnets, a number of madrigals, psalms, and psalmodies, as well as poetical translations from Latin and Greek. The topics present in his poetry are politics, Christian saints,218 Christian renewal, and moral issues. We also find a little section of love sonnets, most of which were not included in the selection of poems published during the life of the author, but remained scattered through his manuscripts. The texts of the Paris edition have a brief explanation written by the author to which a paratextual indication Esposizione is added. Campanella’s sonnets present forms of reiteration that we have scarcely seen in the evolution of the genre: we are speaking about lists of names or places which can be analyzed in a litanic context. Anaphoras with a small number of repetitions are present too. The latter can be a mark of Petrarchism, but it is not a general rule. We notice little influence of the traditional religious poetry, with the exception of both the Marian219 and mystical language of Jacopone da Todi and Bianco da Siena.220 At the same time, Campanella’s poetry is sometimes related directly to Dante or Guido Guinizelli. Our friar was also inspired by the scientific and philosophical writings of his times, and he transposed in poetry

216 As the title of a relevant philosophical essay by a poet from the beginning of the twentieth century says. Cf. Carlo Michelstaedter, La persuazione e la rettorica (Milan: Adelphi, 1982). 217 Tommaso Campanella, Poetica: testo italiano inedito e rifacimento latino, ed. Luigi Firpo (Rome: Reale accademia d’Italia, 1944). 218 Sonnet 1, included in Scelta, is devoted to Francis of Assisi. Cf. Tommaso Campa­nella, Le poesie, ed. Francesco Giancotti (Turin: Einaudi, 1998), 55. 219 See the expression “stella dian, ora” also related to the planet (Venus) and the name of the dedicatee of Sonnet 144. Ibid., 562–3. 220 See for example the phrase “gustando te” in Sonnet 136. Ibid., 546.

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their dialogic character.221 In his poems we can distinguish more types of litanic devices, which will be illustrated in the following part of this chapter. Let us examine the most popular type of litanic pattern, based on the metrical anaphora.222 In Campanella’s sonnets it is obtained through the repetition of prepositions, conjunctions, or pronouns. We are dealing with circumscribed phenomena that increase the emphasis on the parts of sonnets. Telesian and Galilean ideas inspired Sonnet 6, “Modo di filosofare” (“Way of philosophizing”),223 in which Eternal Wisdom (l. 1) and the Divine Book are the right ways to make, and understand, the philosophy. The invocation, which itself is a general prayer modality, is followed by an enumeration (ll. 12–14): O pene, del fallir fatene accorti, liti, ignoranze, fatiche e dolori: deh, torniamo, per Dio, all’originale!

A choral voice addresses a plural receiver. After a list of invocations to negative phenomena (sufferance, quarrels, ignorance, pain), in the final part of the poem God and “the original” (l. 14; with reference to wisdom) are emphasized. A triple anaphora connotes the Trinity in Sonnet 7, entitled “Accorgimento a tutte le nazioni” (“Warning to all the nations”).224 The poems is a philippic, and the rhetorical effect of tripling is taken up in the prose explanation accompanying the sonnet: Contra sofisti nacque Socrate; contra tiranni Catone; ma CRISTO DIO contra ipocriti, che sono i pessimi, disputò più che contra ogni altro: perché in questo vizio si inchiude il primo e ’l secondo.225

221 The dialogue was the preferred genre for the scientific prose of the times. See Campanella’s Latin writings or Galileo Galilei’s Dialogo sopra i due massimi sistemi (published with the imprimatur in 1632) and other works. As Losada Liniers claims, Campanella had a solid preparation in scholastic philosophy. Cf. Losada Linier, “ ‘Io accesi un lume’:” 253. 222 In certain cases we distinguish metrical and syntactic anaphora. Both of them can concern poetry, yet only the second is related to prose. Cf. a paper on the twentiethcentury poetry by Stefano da Bianco, “Anafore e riepetizioni lessicali nella poesia italia­na fra le due guerre,” Studi novecenteschi 56(1998): 207–37 and Stefano dal Bianco, “Per uno studio dell’anafora nella poesia italiana fra le due guerre,” in Stilistica, metrica e storia della lingua. Studi offerti dagli allievi a Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo, eds. Tina Matarrese, Marco Praloran, and Paolo Trovato (Padua: Antenore, 1997). 223 Campanella, Le poesie, 44. 224 Ibid., 46–7. 225 Ibid.

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In a circumscribed, symbolic, and Trinitarian litany the poetic overview of the struggle against tyranny, hypocrisy, impiety, falseness, etc., is presented in the opening of the sestet (ll. 9–14): Contra sofisti Socrate sagace, contra tiranni venne Caton giusto, contra ipocriti Cristo, eterea face. Ma scoprir l’empio, il falsario e l’ingiusto non basta, né al morir correre audace, se tutti al Senno non rendiamo il gusto.

It is worth noting that both the anaphora (ll. 9–11) and the list (l. 12) are triple— they set a litanic space inside the sonnet. Two poems in which the anaphoric “chi”/“che” (“who”/“which”) accompany the tail, as we are dealing with caudate sonnets, discuss the same topic. In Sonnet 42,226 the biblical parable of the Samaritan is adapted to the author’s times and to the debate with the reformed confessions. A man was robbed. The poor victim meets a bishop who avoids him with a quick blessing. Then he comes up against a cardinal who decides to follow the thieves, hoping to have the loot. Only a German Lutheran helps the unlucky traveler (ll. 9–17): Alfin giunse un Tedesco luterano, che nega l’opre ed afferma la fede: l’accolse, lo vestìo, lo fece sano. Chi più merita in questi? chi è più umano? Dunque al voler l’intelligenza cede, la fede all’opre, la bocca alla mano;      mentre quel che si crede, s’a te ed agli altri è buono e ver, non sai: ma certo è a tutti il vero ben che fai.

As can be observed, the triple enumeration is operative once again. In this direction we can interpret the three-line tail that formally enriches the caudate sonnet, while line 12 forms an anaphoric break composed of two phrases in which the pronoun “who” is repeated. This doubling emphasizes the question placed at the center of the entire poem. In Sonnet 43, “Contra gli ipocriti” (“Against the

226 “Sonetto cavato dalla parabola di Cristo in San Luca, e da San Giacomo dicente: «Fides sine operibus mortua est», ecc., a da Sant’Augustino: «Ostende mihi fidem tuam, ostendam tibi opera mea».” (“A sonnet taken from the parable of Christ by Saint Luke and from Saint James saying ‘Faith without works is death’, etc., and from Saint Augustine: ‘Show me your faith, I show you my works’.”). Ibid., 216–7.

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pharisees”)227 the triple metrical anaphora concluding the text expresses all the desperation of the subject. The accusation is taken up—Sonnet 43 is part of a series of poems dedicated to an inquiry held against Campanella and Maurizio de Rinaldis—perhaps this time it is related to a death sentence passed for Campanella’s friend228 (ll. 12–14): Chi può più comportar tanta sciagura, che sacrosanto e divino si nome chi spoglia pur gli morti in sepoltura?

The blaming tone is here stronger than in the other poems of this author that we have quoted. The position of the expressions in question is unusual. In fact, the litanic devices are not developed through the poem, as often happens. On the contrary, they underlie parts of this and other sonnets in order to support the polemic.229 A traditional use of the anaphoric pronoun present in the last quoted fragment can be observed in Campanella’s psalmody,230 which is almost a Franciscan song of praise written in quatrains. The opening part of the cycle presents a manifold anaphora (“chi” or “che,” “who” or “what”), which can bind either the second with the fourth line (which is shorter), or all the lines of a stanza, or even the last line of one stanza with the first of the following one—the latter is a traditional technique called cobla capfinida used in the Italian Peninsula since the thirteenth century.231 In Sonnet 504, “Sonetto di rinfacciamento a Musuraca” (“Sonnet of throwing in Musuraca’s face”),232 the second stanza is occupied by a fourfold anaphora introduced by a question (“why,” “perché”). The throwing and the warning are in the center of the stanza (ll. 4–8): Ma perché pria le vesti mi trasporte? perché in legarmi il tuo stuolo s’indraca? perché tua industria alla mia morte vaca? perché sul capo mio giochi a la sorte?

227 Ibid., 222–3. 228 For this sonnet see Giancotti’s commentary which refers to the tradition of interpretation. Ibid. 229 We remember that in some sonnets by Boccaccio the final triplet is emphasized by the litanic anaphora. 230 “Salmodia che invita a terra e le cose in quella nate a lodar Dio, e declara lor fine e la providenza divina,” Campanella, Le poesie, 426–35. 231 The technique is Provençal. 232 Campanella, Le poesie, 504.

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Forms of anaphoric and dialogic “why” are known from Petrarch’s Canzoniere,233 but the pattern is here amplified. Concluding this part of our analysis we should highlight that in his moderate, anaphoric use of the litanic devices Campanella devotes the octave to exposing his thesis, and the sestet to placing the central message in a condensed way—the litanic anaphora benefits from this set, which under certain conditions is a repetition of the rules of Petrarchism. However, the topic, tone, and purpose of the poem have nothing to do with love poetry. Let us now analyze those of Campanella’s lists which seem to present litanic characteristics that have remained only vaguely outlined in our analysis up to this point. We remember the enumeration of the gemstones in a thirteenthcentury sonnet by Giacomo da Lentini. In Petrarch’s Canzoniere, we can find purely enumerative parts of sonnets too.234 Lists of any type were used by poets of the fourteenth century and subsequently.235 Starting from the poems collected by Campanella in the aforementioned edition printed in 1622 in Paris, in Sonnet 8, “Delle radici de’ gran mal del mondo” (“About the roots of the great evil of the world”)236 three elements are introduced twice to illustrate both negativity (“tirannide, sofismi, ipocrisia;” “tyranny, sophisms, hypocrisy,” l. 2) and virtue (“Possanza, Senno, Amor,” “Potency, Judgment, Love,”237 l. 4). This triadic association is not a dry list—it is provided with a commentary inserted between the lines that contain the listing. The analyzed sonnet is an enumeration of both virtues that should be promoted, and bad habits that should be defeated—this is the aim in life of the subject (ll. 1–4, 9–11): Io nacqui a debellar tre mali estremi: tirannide,238 sofismi, ipocrisia; ond’or m’accorgo con quanta armonia Possanza, Senno, Amor m’insegnò Temi. […]

233 Sonnets 278 and 279. 234 We do not analyze that type of Petrarchan sonnet, but see for example Sonnet 148 from Canzoniere. 235 For example, Franco Sacchetti, active in the second half of the fourteenth century, exploited well the lyrical enumeration by constructing genealogical lists, lists of kings, prophets, popes, etc. Franco Sacchetti, Il libro delle rime, ed. Franca Brambilla Ageno (Florence–Nedlands: Olschki–University of Western Australia Press, 1990). See for example ibid., 279–82, 374. 236 Campanella, Le poesie, 49–50. 237 These principles were previously set out in books of metaphysics by Campanella. 238 Tyranny is a topic undertaken newly in the last decade of the eighteenth century by Vittorio Alfieri in a treatise (Della tirannide), as well as in his poetry and drama.

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Carestie, guerre, pesti, invidia, inganno, ingiustizia, lussuria, accidia, sdegno, tutti a que’ tre gran mali sottostanno,

As we can observe, in this personal manifesto (cf. the opening “I”), three vices correspond to three virtues and the enumeration that marks the sestet contains nine elements. To provide a context for this solution, we could speak about the medieval symbolism of numbers. Dante’s Commedia should also be mentioned among the models for the text. The enumerations in Campanella are set up with personal or choral mark: the first is expressed by the lyrical “I,” while the second uses the plural forms (“we”/“you”). It is quite easy to liken the latter to the responsorial technique of the litany. A dialogue with a friend (“Niblo”) opens Sonnet 67, “Ad Annibale Carraciolo, detto Niblo, scrittor d’egloghe” (“To Annibale Carraciolo, who is called Niblo, author of eclogues”).239 A list of three bucolic figures from Virgil’s poetry is here included.240 Beauty, truth—together with cognition— replace the names of saints. A litanic asking leads to a negative solution, because the said elements are only shadows of the Infinite Love, which has to be expressed through virtues and praise of God. In Campanella even in the praise of his intellectual ancestors, the theology overcomes the classical references, which are familiarized in the religious context through a stylistic effect, which consists of a litanic repetition composed of anaphora accompanied by enumerations. A list of living persons, enemies of the author, is the basis for the enumeration in Sonnet 109, “Sonetto contro don Aloise Sciarava, avvocato fiscale in Calavria” (“Sonnet against Aloise Sciarava, a collector for the Calabria region”).241 A recrimination against those who politically slandered Campanella is developed in the opening six lines, in which a group of persons is mentioned by their names (“Ruffi, Garaffi, Morani e Spinelli,” l. 4) together with references to the Bible and to Dante. The poem refers to a conspiracy from ca. 1600. In another sonnet the author experiments once again with the formal set of the genre. Sonnet 108, “Sonetto fatto sopra li segni con suoi appendici,” (“A sonnet about the signs with its appendages”)242 is a caudate sonnet. It is composed of a fourteen-line, regular part divided into octave and sestet. Through the rhyme of the last line of the sestet it is linked up to a tail that redoubles the number of the lines, but does not 239 Campanella, Le poesie, 276–7. 240 Cf. the commentary to the text. Ibid. 241 Ibid., 498–9. The author did not publish this and the following texts in the Paris selected works. 242 It is another caudate sonnet. This poem is even longer than the previous one. Ibid., 496.

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calque either the rhyme scheme or the versification. The litanic features are not always metrically relevant. The enumerative elements are disseminated in the opening six lines: Toglie i dì sacri il Tebro e calca Roma, Lombardia il Po. Più volte il sol s’oscura. Scorpion e Tauro cangiano figura. Stelle son viste con l’accesa chioma. Dell’una e dell’altra Sicilia gran soma l’Inferno inghiotte. Ogni erba fresca e dura

The components are paired or not; they are also placed in the anaphoric or epiphoric positions without any observable rule. The redoubling part is built up of a quatrain, three triplets, and an envoy couplet. A weak litanic-enumerative character is set up in the “right” sonnet. In the tail we are dealing with epiphoric arrangement that creates an enumeration of persons. The text culminates in definitions of God (“al primo Creatore,” “to the first Creator,” l. 16; “ritorna il Redentore,” “the Redeemer comes back,” l. 18; “l’Eterna Ragione,” “the Eternal Intellect,” l. 27). The litanic attributes bind the part in which signs of premonition are described, with the apocalyptic vision which is exposed in the tail. In the latter, we find also the name of the author hidden in the opening of a meaningful expression (“la CAMPANELLA mia fa che risone:” “make resound my little bell:” l. 26). The aim is to put his own voice among the words of the prophets, who are lacking in these hard times, in which the sonnet is written. The Prophets’ absence is one of the “signs” (l. 12). Coming back to the lists of three elements let us consider Sonnet 123, “Sonetto fatto in lode di tre fratelli Ponzio” (“Sonnet made in praise of three Ponzio brothers”).243 The symmetry of the parts is here reflected in the enumeration (“Valor, Senno, Bontade io adoro in Cielo,” “I adore in Heaven Value, Judgment, Goodness” l. 1; “Ferrante con Dionigi e Pietro fanno,” “Ferrante makes it together with Dionigi and Pietro,” l. 9), which brings us again to the Trinity.244 In Campanella’s works, this kind of association increases a Christian interpretation of, for example, philosophical ideas and values. It is worth noting that in the following part of the foregoing sonnet virtues and behaviors are coupled—thus, the triple litanic connection results as the highest form of praise. There is a unique case in Campanella’s works in which a woman is praised in a similar context.

243 Ibid., 526. 244 The Trinity could here connote other forms of prayer, apart from the litany, such as the Trisagion.

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Sonnet 156, “Sonetto alla signora Giulia” (“Sonnet to Madame Giulia”)245 opens with a six-fold enumeration of abstract nouns and their alliteration forms the name of the lady (“G ioia, i dea, v ita, l uce, i dolo, a more,” l. 1). It is necessary to say that the poem was not published in the Paris edition. From a symbolic point of view, a list consisting of six components represents twice the Trinity, a number which is exceptional in Campanella’s poetry, in which the highest addressees are most often enumerated three or nine times (three multiplied by three). We can note that in Campanella’s sonnets the litanic qualities concern the composition of the text: symmetric and threefold litanies can be realized through both anaphoric and enumerative methods. In such a way we deal with a litanic technique based on number symbolism with a rich theological-philosophical background.246 Campanella is far from the sixteenth-century court sonnet and its litanic modalities. He renews the genre while constructing an engaged poetry. Campanella’s sonnets, maintaining the symbolism of numbers, pulse with ideas that belong to the seventeenth century—the idea of nature as the basis for philosophy is one of them: Sin embargo, muy pronto y de modo audaz contrapone los estudios realizados en los dominicos con ese libro viviente en el que Dios escribe diariamente sus propias consideraciones y conceptos, el libro de la naturaleza, sin olvidar por ello los conocimientos adquiridos gracias a su magnífica memoria, y así sus vastas lecturas se potenciaron y perpetuaron sus conocimientos y le sirvieron además para construir el edificio de sus propios escritos que conservan rastros de todas ellas.247 In some way the idea recalled by Linier was also one of Galileo Galilei. As far as the traditionally considered problem of linking octave and sestet is concerned, Campanella in his poems does not search for this kind of formal cohesion. On the contrary, he uses the litanic elements in order to emphasize short parts of his sonnets, and to highlight his fine philosophical message which is implied in his texts and cannot be stated directly.

16.1  The Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries: A Conclusion At the beginning of the sixteenth century, the condemnation of books of prayer that were widely disseminated due to being printed is not rare:248 those printed

245 Campanella, Le poesie, 584. 246 Enzo Noè Girardi, “Dante nel pensiero e nella poesia di Campanella,” Critica lette­raria 2–3(2002): 423–40; Teresa Bonaccorsi, “Dante nella poesia di Tommaso Campanella. Citazione, riuso, innovazione,” Lettere italiane 4(2008): 581–622. 247 Losada Linier, “ ‘Io accesi un lume’:” 253. 248 Forni, 41–2.

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manuals of private devotion, with their repetitive, “vain” formulas, are seen as an illusion of prayer when compared to the authentic and “deep book of soul.”249 At the same time, the standardization of the liturgy and the approval of the official set of prayers are an effect of the Council of Trent, which also forbade any form of veneration in Tuscan or other vernacular language of the Peninsula.250 The sixteenth century is the most intense period of Petrarchism, a movement which was joined diligently by all aspiring men and women of letters at least till the 1560s.251 The Petrarchan style gave the opportunity for writers to become highly esteemed as poets. In such circumstances the sonnet becomes a meeting point of poetic renewal, religious meditation, and philosophical and moral criticism. In the authors that are analyzed in the present part of our work, we encounter both Petrarchan patterns,252 and more abstract lyrical elements modulating conventional ways of thinking. However, new and independent manners of elaborating the sonnet using the litanic models are operative—we speak now about the reminiscences of Latin and Italian lauda, of the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century philosophical writings and of Dante’s legacy. These features are observable in different proportions both in the women-sonneteers and in Campanella. The female authors brought the sonnet up to date through an original use of some litanic qualities. During the sixteenth century, some of the most important female Petrarchists were stressing litanic schemes inside the sonnet and looking for new ways of interpreting the most popular repetitive patterns. Their practice

249 Ibid. 250 The Index librorum prohibitorum, published during the Council of Trent and brought up to date several times before the end of the sixteenth century, forbade the Bible to be translated into the vernacular languages of the Peninsula. Many existing books used for private devotion (i.e. Latin and Tuscan versions of the Officium Beatae Mariae Virginis) were prohibited; private reading of the Scriptures and prayer in the vernacular required a special license from a bishop. At the same time, after the Council the Church started to publish new or revised books in Tuscan. Cf. Gigliola Fragnito, Cinquecento italiano. Religione, cultura e potere dal Rinascimento alla Controriforma (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2011), 325–46; The Church and the Languages of Italy before the Council of Trent, ed. Franco Pierno (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2015). 251 Santagata, I due cominciamenti, 93. 252 Petrarchism defined itself as a “system of repetition.” Cf.  Amedeo Quondam, “Dall’abstinendum verbis alla “locuzione artificiosa.” Il petrarchismo come sistema della ripetizione,” in Giulio Ferroni and Amedeo Quondam, La “locuzione artificiosa.” Teoria ed esperienza della lirica a Napoli nell’età del manierismo (Rome: Bulzoni, 1973), 209–33.

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is mostly based on rhetorical expedients. As for the metrical issues, the litanic effect sometimes emphasizes the versification, emphasizing the ideal rhythm of the hendecasyllable—we should remember that the distinctive trait of sixteenthcentury Petrarchism, especially starting from the 1530s, is the faithful reproduction of the model.253 In other cases, we observe attempts to contribute to the erosion of the surface of canonical Italian verse by the use of repetitive patterns. Finally, as we could see in the previous part of the present work, irregular forms of the sonnet (sonetto caudato or the caudate sonnet) are strongly supported by the litanic expedients incorporated with a specific use of the rhetorical figures.

253 Santagata, I due cominciamenti, 90–1.

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17 The Nineteenth Century: A Portrait of an Epoch We shall now skip almost two hundred years, going directly to the early nineteenth century, when litanic qualities are interestingly exploited in order to describe the external aspects of living persons. The chairetismic quality of litanies, which gives beautiful Marian descriptions in a cycle of sonnets of three authors from the beginning of the century, is used to offer self-praise of that which speaks in the poem. We are dealing here not only with the descriptive scope of antonomasias—in the sonnet this is a frequently used rhetorical-litanic device—but also with self-portraits from life. Now new objects of litanic praise enter the Italian sonnet. Love topics are increasingly abandoned, and new subjects appear. The sonnet in the nineteenth century and later is interested in more humble objects, such as animals, landscapes, nostalgic representations, and even prayer, but prayer which is personal and unassuming. Litanic devices are present at this stage as well, and in certain cases they have a strong rhetorical impact and support experiments, while in others they help to address new topics using old means. Finally, we have a collection of sonnets which are written following litanic invocations: the book, entitled Litanie: sonetti, which was published in the 1930s, makes explicit the link between the Litany of Loreto and both formal and semantic aspects of the sonnet.

17.1  Self-Portraits of Sonneteers: Alfieri—Foscolo—Manzoni The end of the eighteenth and the first years of the nineteenth century are an interesting moment in the development of the litanic features in the sonnet. We remember that starting from the creation of this form in the early thirteenth century, the sonnet can address a particular person—it seems to be one of the characteristics of the genre. The object is praised—it is the case of Love, of a female beloved—later of a male receiver too—of a friend… It is also Christ, the Virgin, or another spiritual figure. In the satiric sonnet other types of addressees are involved (a father, an enemy, etc.). We can imagine a Wunderkammer of human characters which are outlined in the present chapter, but still in our collection there is lacking the genre of self-portrait. Only at the beginning of the nineteenth century, the sonnet is enriched by such topics as the self-image. During this century other issues related to pictorial representation are included, for example, the landscape. Although the number of self-portraits expressed in sonnets is few, as 227

we will see in the following analysis, the most important authors experimented with self-description. For the first years of the nineteenth century, we will quote Alessandro Manzoni, Ugo Foscolo, and Vittorio Alfieri. In the later decades and into the beginning of the twentieth century we introduce a lesser known poet, Giovanni Camerana, who made a relevant contribution to the association of sonnet, painting, and prayer. We will observe the use of the rhetorical-litanic schemes which was settled in the sonnet over the centuries in order to compare them with the newer uses. Dealing with several representations of landscape, which is each time anthropocentrically characterized, we should remember the relevance of the semantic element related to the addressee of the message. Let us read Vittorio Alfieri’s sonnet entitled “Sublime specchio di veraci detti” (“Oh, sublime mirror of true words”),254 which is the first of a sequence of three self-portraits in a sonnet. The other two poems were written by Ugo Foscolo and Alessandro Manzoni.255 The cycle is born from a kind of literary competition. The case is quite well known in the history of Italian literature. The three sonnets were published together in 1802 in “Nuovo Giornale dei Letterati,” a review printed in Pisa.256 Franco Gavazzeni speaks about three autobiographical poems. In our perspective, the most important feature of these texts is the common purpose of outlining human or anthropomorphic types—our authors describe and define themselves. The last point is even more interesting if we consider that the poem by Alfieri manifests a strong relation with the theory of physiognomic types worked out and published in the late eighteenth century by a philosopher and theologian, Johann Kasper Lavater.257 The subject of Alfieri’s poetry addresses his own sonnet, which is treated as a “sublime mirror”.258 In the poem, the appearance of the speaking person is presented in the center of the octave, while the sestet is dedicated to a psychological description. Let us read the text:259

254 Il is also entitled “The self-portrait.” 255 In the 1880s Giosuè Carducci also wrote a sonnet which is a self-portrait, “Tal fui qual fremo in questa immagin viva”—leaving out any type of physical characteristics, he privileged the narrative characters telling his personal story. 256 Alessandro Manzoni, Poesie prima della conversione, ed. Franco Gavazzeni (Turin: Einaudi, 1992), 69–70. 257 Ibid., 69. 258 Vittorio Alfieri, Rime, ed. Rosolino Guastalla (Florence: Sansoni, 1978), 123. 259 Vittorio Alfieri, Rime, 123–4. Let us add that Alfieri wrote also portraits of women in his sonnets; we remember “Negra lucida chioma in trecce avvolta,” (“Black, shining hair plaited in braid”) composed for a beautiful beloved. The poem lists litanic

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Sublime specchio di veraci detti, Mostrami in corpo e in anima qual sono: Capelli, or radi in fronte, e rossi pretti; Lunga statura, e capo a terra prono; S o t t i l   p e r s o n a   i n   s u   d u e   s t i n c h i   s c h i e t t i; B i a n c a   p e l l e,  o c c h i   a z z u r r i,  a s p e t t o   b u o n o; G i u s t o   n a s o,  b e l   l a b r o,  e   d e n t i   e l e t t i; P a l l i d o   i n   v o l t o,  più che un re sul trono: O r   d u r o,  a c e r b o,  o r a   p i e g h e v o l,  m i t e; I r a t o   s e m p r e,  e   n o n   m a l i g n o   m a i; La mente e il cor meco in perpetua lite: P e r   l o   p i ù   m e s t o,  e   t a l o r   l i e t o   a s s a i, Or stimandomi Achille, ed or Tersite: Uom, se’ tu grande, o vil? Muori, e il saprai.

The middle part of the text is occupied by a list of characteristics—in the second quatrain we notice a sequence of attributes which are calqued on the litanic ones—set out in two series of three couples. Such an arrangement overcomes the distinction between bi- and tripartite sections of sonnet, or octave and sestet. The praising is here crucial. Presenting the “suitable nose,” or a “nice lip,” the list is not neutral—the mirror reflects an image of a good-looking, middle-aged man. The rhymes in this part recall the most ancient form of sonnet composed of four couplets (abababab). The focus is adjusted on an ordered list of traits. The sestet is devoted to the personality, composed of positive and negative characteristics—the expressions are paired and each pair contrasts with the following. In this part the reference to those litanic qualities, which in the tradition of sonnet were usually employed to define the beloved, weakens. At the same time, the formal symmetry is well arranged—in such a direction the litanic elements are here modulated. The purpose is to illustrate the personal qualities— namely the attributes—and construct carefully a figure of a hero (Achilles) and his opposite—Thersites.260 attributes as the analyzed self-portrait. “Negri, vivaci e in dolce fuoco ardenti” are the eyes of the beloved woman. We recall also “Era l’amico che il destin mi fura” including an antonomastic praise describing a friend of the author, Francesco Gori-Gandellini. Cf. Ibid., 2–3; 16; 104–5. 260 The figure of Alfieri is sketched in the second half of the nineteenth century, in a sonnet by Giosuè Carducci, but without any litanic association. Cf. Giosuè Carducci, Le opere (Milan: CDE, 1965), 19. Carducci’s poem is included in the collection of Juvenilia.

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Let us pass now to the second sonnet, written by Ugo Foscolo, “Solcata ho fronte, occhi incavati intenti” (“Furrowed is my brow, deep-set and diligent [are] the eyes”)261 in which the list of individual traits is even more intense (ll. 1–8): Solcata ho fronte, occhi incavati intenti Crin fulvo, emunte guance, ardito aspetto, Labbro tumido acceso, e tersi denti, Capo chino, bel collo, e largo petto; Giuste membra; vestir semplice eletto; Ratti i passi, i pensier, gli atti, gli accenti; Sobrio, umano, leal, prodigo, schietto; Avverso al mondo, avversi a me gli eventi:

The first part of the poem is occupied by direct self-definition—physical and psychological characteristics are put together in sequences of two-, three-, and fourpart lists. The second set of traits is contained in the lines 6–7, which conclude with a brief definition of the subject’s relation with the “world” and “events.” The rhyme pattern abababab groups the enumerative components of Foscolo’s octave section. The personality is then depicted through a short enumeration extended partially to the sestet (“Pronto, iracondo, inquïeto, tenace;” “Ready, irascible, uneasy, firm,” l. 11). In Foscolo’s self-portrait, the concentration of the enumerative characteristics is higher than that of Alfieri—the two-part lists recall the litanic attributes. It should be said that this type of sonnet builds its cohesion on the enumeration of features, but the difference between the octave, which is more litanic, and the sestet—in which the discursive character prevails—is worthy of note. In Foscolo’s self-portrait the pleasure of watching oneself is evident. Alessandro Manzoni wrote his sonnet in 1801.262 As far as the syntactic arrangement is concerned, the first predicate appears in line 6 and is introduced by a long list (ll. 1–6): Capel bruno: alta fronte: occhio loquace: Naso non grande e non soverchio umile; Tonda la gota e di color vivace: Stretto labbro e vermiglio, e bocca esile:

261 Ugo Foscolo, Poesie, ed. Franco Gavazzeni (Turin: Einaudi–Gallimard, 1994), 16–7. In Foscolo’s poetry, we find traces of the anaphoric-litanic model connected directly with the Petrarchan legacy. In the sonnet, “Perchè taccia il rumor di mia catena” the last couplet of the octave is worth recall: “Qui affido il pianto e i miei Danni de­scrivo, / Qui tutta verso del dolor la piena.” (ll. 7–8). Cf. ibid., 15. 262 Manzoni, Poesie prima della conversione, 71.

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Lingua or spedita or tarda, e non mai vile, Che il ver favella apertamente, o tace.

The physical aspect is defined in the first quatrain of the poem, in which the rhyme pattern abab, the same that we have observed in the opening stanzas of Alfieri and Foscolo, is maintained. In the second stanza a new scheme is adopted (baab), while the syntax preserves the subdivision into couplets. A figurative link between the mouth, the tongue, and the way of answering inaugurates a description of attitude. We read then about the self-perception (young age and mind, l. 7), and of the poet’s ways of facing people. A modern doubt rises in this discourse—we would say a Pirandellian feel if it were not an anachronism—about how others can perceive the “I” speaking in the text.263 In fact the octave achieves an effect of impartiality—this is related to the character of the litanic enumeration, which in its original context is a collective form of veneration toward the highest spiritual receivers. In poetry the apparent objectivity of the praising lists remains as a legacy. Alfieri comes back to the topic of glory, but the problem of identity is placed relevantly in the concluding lines. In the sonnet by Vittorio Alfieri, the connector between the octave and the sestet is the passage between the exterior and interior aspect of the subject, for the project of describing oneself includes physical and psychological peculiarities. The pleasure of praising oneself is related also to the perceived difficulties, such as age, or the heart that opposes reason. After an initial description of his outward appearance, Manzoni reflects upon his position in the world. The litanic enumeration is neglected starting from the second quatrain. The three sonnets we are discussing suggest also the idea of dying: in Alfieri and Foscolo it is explicated at the end of their poems. As for Manzoni, it is implied in the concluding lines, when he talks about time (“men and years will tell me who I am,” l. 14). The group of sonnets is an attempt to revive the medieval tradition of tenzone.264 In our perspective, the element unifying the three poems is the litanic character of the praising enumeration. In these sonnets we do not find lexical repetitions—the model of list of attributes is here exploited instead as the rhetorical framework of the texts. At the same time the litanic qualities do not manifest any metrical implication. Until now, we have found the litanic enumeration underlying the 263 Line 13: “Poco noto ad altrui, poco a se stesso:” “[I am] hardly known by the others, little [known] to myself.” 264 Between Manzoni’s and Alfieri’s sonnets there is a common rhyme, such as was in use in medieval Italian poetry. Cf. Manzoni, Poesie prima della conversione, 71. Also the ancient rhyme pattern abababab applied in the octave—here used by Alfieri and Foscolo—should be considered as a reference to the tradition.

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sonnets in a small part of our corpus, while blended anaphoric-enumerative or enumerative-invocative models were quite common. Thus the roots of this type are outlined in Sicilian, Dante’s, and Petrarch’s sonnets, among which, as we remember, the enumerative type constitutes a small, separate group. The listing of traits is exploited in other works by Alfieri—mostly in his sonnets—leaving a strong mark on his “gallery” of human portraits.

17.2  After the Midcentury: Mameli and Carducci During the nineteenth century the sonnet finds more ways again to meet the litany. We find among others a relevant anaphoric type, with the lexical repetitions built up on metrical requisites. Let us quote Goffredo Mameli’s burlesque sonnet entitled “Rido,” (“I laugh,” ll. 1–8):265 Rido, che questo mondo è pien di matti: V’è chi scherza, sull’orlo al precipizio; V’è chi piange, ed il fato gli è propizio; V’è chi parla d’onor, di fè, di patti. V’è chi lascia l’arrosto, e lecca i piatti; V’è chi è scemo, e lo credon di giudizio; V’è chi passa per Numa, o per Fabrizio, E ipocrita è in parole, e birba in fatti.

The enumeration, in which several types of madness are listed, is introduced by an anaphora. This recalls the comic-realistic sonnet of the thirteenth century, characterized by a highly anaphorical metrical set.266 In Mameli’s poem, although the third syllable is strongly underlined in the larger part of the lines because of the anaphoric onsets, reading the poem we distinguish both a maiore and a minore hendecasyllables. Once again the litanic techniques applied in the sonnet determine the organization of the text, the correlation between octave and sestet, without influencing in any relevant way the versification. “Rido” is a unique burlesque sonnet in Mameli’s collection. It is neither a patriotic nor a love text267—the artistic legacy of Mameli is not great and often it only suggests 265 I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, ed. Ettore Janni (Milan: Rizzoli, 1955), 142–3. The first title, “Sonetto bernesco,” recalls Francesco Berni, a poet of the sixteenth century, and his satiric style. Mameli changed the title of the poem before its publication in 1850. 266 Cf. Furio Brugnolo, Il canzoniere di Nicolo de Rossi. Lingua, tecnica, cultura poetica, vol. II (Padua: Antenore, 1977), 369–70. 267 Mameli’s poetry is usually divided into two parts (love and patriotic poems) and two periods.

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possible lines of development, rather than affecting actual works. However, in such a context it is interesting to note the vitality of a thematic and formal line that, together with the love branch, constitutes the most ancient soul of sonnet. Let us now examine some poems published in the second half of the century by Giosuè Carducci. We will open with a sonnet written in 1886; it speaks about the Risorgimento twenty-five years after the unification of Italy. We are dealing here with a refined anaphoric model which sacralizes the past struggles268—the litanic devise seems to be a good way to achieve such an effect. Only two expressions are used in the anaphoric position (ll. 1–2; 5–6; 12–14):269 Ora —: e la mano il giovine nizzardo Biondo con sfavillanti occhi porgea, […] E sempre —: con la man fiso lo sguardo L’austero genovese a lui rendea: […] Ora — dimanda per lo ciel Staglieno, Sempre — Caprera in mezzo al mar risponde: Grande su ’l Pantheon vigila la luna.

First, the two stanzaic anaphoras, “ora” (“now”) and “sempre” (“always”), are associated with two major figures of the Risorgimento, Giuseppe Garibaldi and Giuseppe Mazzini. In fact, the two anaphoras—linked up by the symbolic gesture of the two men shaking hands—assume the function of the litanic antonomasias, as their names never appear in the poem. The attributes are here represented by the geographical indication of the leaders’ origins. A particular, strong link between the octave and the sestet is created by repeating the mentioned anaphoras in a very close way in the last stanza of the sonnet. This time the names of the burial places are put together with the repeated elements. The dialogue of the two figures lasts in the memory, through the symbols expressed from our point of view through the litanic antonomasias. As we see, the connection between octave and sestet is not the principal concern of the poets in the epoch we are now discussing. A fortiori in Carducci’s sonnet a fine litanic expedient sacralizes the old ideals of the author and the national struggles. When the poem was written all this was being replaced by new, pragmatic slogans. If the fights for 268 The unified Italian state was a monarchy. In the 1880s, Carducci himself abandoned any revolutionary purpose in order to become an official poet of the new Italy. Cf. Giosuè Carducci, Rime nuove, eds. Pietro Paolo Trompeo and Giambattista Salinari (Bologna: Zanichelli, 1970), 116–7. 269 Ibid., 116–7.

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independence were converted into mythology in that period, Carducci’s sonnet would be evidence of such a process. Coming back to the characteristics of persons and phenomena, in Carducci’s sonnets, we find traces of litanic qualities referred to non-human objects. Their number is few, but animals and plants are described through litanic antonomasias. This trend is typical of the nineteenth century. Among the collections of poems published by Carducci, the book of Rime nuove includes a relevant number of sonnets.270 Opening with a poem on his lyrical predecessors—like Boccaccio—Carducci emphasizes the antonomastic traits through the anaphora. “Il sonetto” (“The sonnet”)271 opens with the octave devoted to the story of the literary genre (ll. 1–8): Dante il mover gli diè del cherubino E d’aere azzurro e d’òr lo circonfuse: Petrarca il pianto del suo cor, divino Rio che pe’ versi mormora, gl’infuse. La mantuana ambrosia e ’l venosino Miel gl’impetrò da le tiburti muse Torquato; e come strale adamantino Contro i servi e’ tiranni Alfier lo schiuse.

The poem is connected with a branch of the tradition of the sonnet genre which was inaugurated by Boccaccio in his homage to Petrarch. Let us now come back to the problem of litanic attributes. Rime nuove includes “Il bove,”272 a sonnet in which the subject declares to an ox, “T’amo, o pio bove;” (“I love you, oh pious ox,” l. 1). The invocation seems here to be rediscovered in a new context. In the poem it accompanies an attribute (“pio”) that connotes kindliness, religiosity, and mercy. Apart from this praising mark, which divides the first hendecasyllable into two semi-verses, in the remaining part of the sonnet any other litanic qualities are avoided. Apropos of this poem, someone spoke about the “Georgics-religiosity” of Carducci modeled on Virgil273 and on a pre-Christian spirituality. “A un asino” (“To a donkey”)274 is another sonnet 270 The collection was printed in 1887, but the poet worked on this book for more than 25 years, publishing single poems in his other collections. It is worth noting that Rime nuove opens with a chairetismic salutation, “Ave, o rima!” Cf. Carducci, Rime nuove, 5. 271 Ibid., 16–7. 272 Ibid., 37–9. 273 See the third footnote, ibid., 38. 274 Ibid., 100–1.

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addressed to an animal, the ass, which is invoked through a praising description, “o antico pazïente” (“O patient old one,” l. 1). As one realizes in reading the rest of the sonnet, the donkey is the poet himself.275 The litanic character is here additionally supported by a double metrical anaphora that unifies the first and the second quatrain (ll. 3–5): Che guardi tra i sambuchi a l’orïente Con l’accesa pupilla inumidita? Che ragli al cielo dolorosamente?

The animals are noble models in Carducci’s sonnets. The poet knew probably Victor Hugo’s texts devoted to a “humble” animal, but the symbology is different.276 Recognizing the human sympathy for the ox and the ass, our poet considers them from his personal point of view. He puts them in front of himself, as a mirror, in order to ponder upon his life and work. The natural world is represented in “Colloqui con gli alberi” (“Talks with the trees”)277 a sonnet which addresses the trees. The subject invokes “o quercia pensosa” (“O meditative oak,” l. 2), and “lauro infecondo” (“unfruitful laurel,” l. 5) listing the trees that he does not love anymore. The latter antonomasia sums up the Petrarchan legacy, which “lies and insults” (l. 6), but still remains desirable. The first tree is also described as a “bright coffin”—the attribute expresses the function of the material provided by the plants. The group which emerges from this part of our analysis demonstrates that the litanic features, even when they are occasional, create a macro-level related to cycles of poems, and not any more to single texts. Such a practice was inaugurated by Vittoria Colonna. In three centuries the sonnet has changed its tune—the register, the areas of interest—but the chiaretismic quality expressed through the litanic attributes has remained a strong inner quality. As far as the representations of the landscape are concerned, we call attention to an early Carducci sonnet published in the first collection of this author, which was entitled Juvenilia.278 “Profonda, solitaria, immensa notte” (“A deep, solitary,

275 The first title of the sonnet was “L’asino, o vero dell’ideale. A me stesso.” See the history of the text reconstructed by the editors, ibid., 99. 276 Carducci does not search for an expressivity which emerges from some texts by Hugo, such as i.e. Le crapaud. 277 Carducci, Rime nuove, 36. As stressed by the editor, the sonnet is based on an ode by Giacomo Zanella, “Egoismo e carità,” written in 1865. 278 The collection is composed of poems written between 1850 and 1860.

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immense night”)279 presents a lists of epithets, but the relevant litanic element is constructed of two sets of anaphora—one closes the first quatrain, while the other opens the last stanza. Let us read the relevant lines (ll. 1–4; 12–14): Profonda, solitaria, immensa notte; Visibil sonno del divin creato Su le montagne già dal fulmin rotte, Su le terre che l’uomo ha seminato; […] Che misteri, che orror, dite, son questi? Che siam, povera razza de i viventi?… Ma tu, bruta quïete, immobil resti.

While the first repetitive set creates a slow and quiet gait,280 the second anaphora causes anxiety which cannot be placated by a nature which is described as impassive. A sequence of anxious questions is addressed to the Moon, following Giacomo Leopardi’s “Canto notturno di un pastore errante dell’Asia” (“Night Song of a Wandering Shepherd in Asia”). The insistence of Carducci’s subject, which repeats the anaphora three times in lines 12–13, marks the conclusion of the poem. The aim is not to unify octave and sestet, but to highlight a fragment of the text creating parallel anaphoric couples that oppose one another. Such a contrast connotes the position of nature as against the situation of man. Giovanni Getto concludes that in the general history of sonnet, La forza del Carducci sarà pur sempre quella di un epigono d’eccezione che riscatta, liberandola dal peso di un ormai implacabile moralismo piccolo borghese, una limpida visione paesistica e autobiografica, quale i migliori sonetti del secolo aspirano a conquistare, ma con una caduta quasi costante di fatto nella predicazione sentimentale.281

We note then that up to Carducci’s youthful collections, a few steps had been taken to give fresh energies to the sonnet. These steps were slow, but not meaningless, and litanic echoes always accompanied them. Among the analyzed genres—as we will soon discover—the sonnet is the one which formally resists innovation more than any other. In the nineteenth century, the genre of the sonnet accepts both anaphoric and descriptive litanic qualities—the latter feature is related to the pictorial necessity

279 Carducci, Le opere, 3. 280 The pattern of the stressed syllables is not an object of repetition. 281 Giovanni Getto, “Introduzione,” in Il sonetto. Cinquecento sonetti dal Duecento al Novecento, eds. Giovanni Getto and Edoardo Sanguineti (Milan: Mursia, 1980), XXVI.

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of the lyrical poetry of this epoch. The traces of the invocative technique are widespread in the poems and occupy different positions within the lines. The metrical aspect of the descriptive litanic traits is not highly relevant in the analyzed sonnets, even if in certain cases—when associated with the anaphora— it helps to increase the effect of litanic dialogue. We should remember that in Vittoria Colonna’s sonnets the subject invoked the spiritual addressees through their attributes. These expressions were placed in a rarefied manner at either the beginning or the end of some sonnets. In the last poem analyzed in this chapter, i.e. an early sonnet by Carducci, the attributes are set in lines 1–2 and 6, while the anaphoric position is constant. Thus, we infer that within the genre the formal symmetry is a function of the litanic devices, even if in the late nineteenth century this symmetry weakens. In fact, some litanic qualities can shift inside the verse—a phenomenon that will be clearly observable in Giovanni Camerana’s sonnet, written at the turn of the twentieth century.

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18 Attributes, Portraits and Landscapes: Towards the Twentieth Century Let us introduce an author who lived in the last decades of the nineteenth century. Giovanni Camerana started to write after national unification, a moment which brought huge changes in the situation of poetry and of artists. Before 1861 the patriotic priorities had acted as a catalyst, especially in the thematic aspect; after national unification, the poets’ horizons had been widening together with the absorption of new tendencies, for example, from France. Decadence found a good background in a society in growth, in which the role of an artist became marginal. It was heralded in the big cities of Northern Italy with the movement of Scapigliatura282 and its exponents, who adopted a bohemian lifestyle. Giovanni Camerana is a less well-known poet of post-unification Italy;283 he did not publish any book of poems during his lifetime. Even if his artistic path was interwoven with those of some major writers of the above-mentioned group, the scapigliati, such as Emilio Praga and Arrigo Boito, his poetry focuses on a personal existential disease, rather than a vie de bohème. A personal religiosity is an original part of his Weltanschauung. Camerana attempted to renew the formal aspects of the sonnet, which is evident in several poems that he left to posterity.284 The most interesting elements of his poetry are the direct references to paintings285 and music,286 together with a strategy of lyrical prayer, which is often explicit in his works. Let us begin the analysis with an excerpt from “Su, galoppate adunque,—trasvolate,” (“Now gallop, and then fly over”)287 a sonnet 282 The term “Scapigliatura” is an adaptation of the French bohème. Barberi Squarotti defined the movement as a late Romanticism and we should also remember the debate around the presence of Romanticism in Italy. Cf. Giorgio Barberi Squarotti, “Il lungo inverno di Camerana,” in Gli inferi e il labirinto (Bologna: Cappelli, 1974), 65. Cf. also Ezio Raimondi, Romanticismo italiano e romanticismo europeo (Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 1997). 283 My thanks to Dr. Giorgio Leonardi, the author of the first (forthcoming) bibliography dedicated to Giovanni Camerana. 284 In the last years of his life Camerana was preparing a collection of his works. 285 This aspect is strong in his spiritual poetry, which is described in the present book too. 286 Piero Nardi, Scapigliatura. Da Giuseppe Rovani a Carlo Dossi (Milan: Mondadori, 1968), 186–9. 287 Giovanni Camerana, Poesie, ed. Gilberto Finzi (Turin: Einaudi, 1968), 36.

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on a Wagnerian theme of The Valkyrie (l. 4: “Sacre Valchirie dell’alto pensier,” “Sacred Valkyries of highest thought”). The repetitive parts are arranged between the sestet and the octave (ll. 6–12): […], erompa il guerrier Suon delle trombe; e voi, spetri, passate, Passate, amori, sui fiammei corsier! Passate, o larve che adorai, rintroni Sotto il galoppo e oscilli il suol,—passate O larve, infra il mugghiar dei sette tuoni; Passate o grandi sguardi e chiome nere, Sante falangi ed arpe, e scatenate Furie,—inni agli astri ed urli di pantere.

It is worth highlighting that the anaphoric repetition is built up on an order (“pass:”) accompanied by a noun or a noun and an adjective. This construction is introduced first as an epiphora and the scheme is overturned in line 7. The imperative is an invocation worked out in a new way, in which a verb, replacing the name, constitutes the litanic antonomasia. The enjambment (ll. 7–8) draws attention to the meter; later it links octave and sestet. The lines are connected, thanks to both the anaphoric scheme and the internal echo288—in such an arrangement the litanic repetition becomes a question of sound and recitation. A similar model works well in other poems (“Io son l’albero strano, che protende,”289 “I am a strange tree, who stretches out,” l. 1; “L’albero maledetto io son, che attende” “A cursed tree am I, who waits,” l. 5; “Del funereo novembre; io son lo scheletro,” “Of the gloomy November; I am the phantom,” l. 13).290 The topic of music appears in many sonnets, and sometimes it is related to the visual arts, as in “Ad Arnoldo Böcklin.”291 The painter is named in the title, while his art is explicitly mentioned in the conclusion of the sonnet (l. 14). In the opening quatrain an original list is formulated. A litanic enumeration describes the attributes of the River Rhine (ll. 1–4):

288 See the internal rhymes in lines 7—8—9—10—12—13. 289 Camerana, “Autunnale,” Poesie, 39. 290 A more traditional litanic anaphora is used in “Nell’alto,” lines 12–13, a poem which includes also a series of invocations to a goddess or a beautiful woman. Another example is “Quercia,” in which the praising anaphora unifies in a traditional way the sections of the sonnet. Cf. Ibid., 39, 42. 291 Ibid., 47; 286: Böcklin was a Swiss symbolist painter, the author of the cycle “Isle of the Dead,” which was among the favored images of Giovanni Camerana.

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Augustal Reno, vasto e lento Reno, Vasto qual frase Beethovenïana,292 Lento come un gran pianger di campana Languida in decembral vespro sereno,

The hendiadys, used in the first line, is then divided into two anaphoric expressions, and each of them occupies an entire line of the poem. The function of the attribute is apparent, for inside lines 2–3 two similes are carried out. When we look at the first quatrain, the attributes that open lines 1–3 seem to build up a visual “pillar.” In line 4 this effect is completed with an element that syntactically concerns not the Rhine, but the faint vesper bell, which rings during a serene evening in December (l. 4). The remaining part of the poem does not manifest other litanic qualities, but we recognize a strong initial mark which is litanic: the mark separates the opening stanza from the rest of the sonnet in its use of rhetorical devices and the semantics of praise. Three sonnets written in memory of a friend, Antonio Fontanesi,293 contain two litanic elements that are distributed through the sequence of texts. The anaphoras are used to define parallelly the speaking subject and the painter. In the opening of the two quatrains of “Quercia. I” (“Oak. I”)294 the imagine of a “Colossal quercia” (ll. 1, 5) is proposed. Camerana uses a dendrologic circumlocution to speak directly about a person, his lost friend. The litanic and praising element shifts inside the verse in the opening of the sestet (ll. 9–11): Tu sei, colossal quercia, la ribelle Anima, conscia di sue fiamme interne, Spezzatrice di assalti e di procelle;

A regular hendecasyllable unifies the parts of the sonnet. In the passage quoted a series of antonomasias outline the friend. Moreover, the psychological survey corresponds to some features that we met in the lyrical self-portraits from the early nineteenth century. We notice the enjambment, which represents a reworked tradition of praising attributes. Also the second sonnet295 of the sequence of three is developed around a single expression (l. 4: “Gladïatrice angusta,” “confined Gladiatrix”), an apostrophe which leads to a complex description of forces of nature that struggle one against the other. The third sonnet296 recalls the previous 292 The German references include also the Valkyrie mentioned in line 10. 293 The indication is in the paratext. 294 Camerana, Poesie, 42. 295 Ibid., 43. 296 Ibid., 44.

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litanic characteristic of Fontanesi (“Quercia. III;” “Oak. III;” l. 8) to which an antonomastic description of the self is opposed: “Mallevador son io / tal mi giurai” and “Mallevador son io che assurgerai” (“Guarantor am I / as I have promised” and “Guarantor am I that you will rise,” ll. 1; 4). The guarantor is the subject of the poem. The legacy of the friend continued by the subject means to carry on the artistic work of the former. The friend is invoked once again, through a visual antonomasia, in the stanza that closes the text (“O visione inafferrabil,” “Oh elusive vision,” l. 12). The presence of the litanic elements is supported by a syntactic anaphora associated with the enjambment. It is placed in the sestet (ll. 9–11): Come un’arce starai, fin quando ardenti Regnino i troni del pensier, fin quando Te invocheran le dolorose genti

The anaphora shifts inside the verse. In this part of the sonnet, which contains strong references to Dante’s Commedia,297 we find the first anaphoric element inserted in a five-syllable part of the canonical hendecasyllable. It returns in line 10 as a three-syllable component of the second enjambment. The syntactic factor creates a longer phrase, and this line cannot be compared to the one mentioned previously. Before concluding, let us examine briefly a spiritual sonnet from the Oropa collection by Camerana.298 “Sancta Maria, prega per noi, divina” (“Saint Mary, pray for us, divine one”)299 presents a dense weaving of the litanic qualities spread in various metrical positions (ll. 1–8). Santa Maria, prega per noi,300 divina, Che sai tutti i dolor, tutte le grida Che claman dagli abissi; alta Regina, Prega per noi, lottanti nella infida Vallea feral, tu calma e sorridente, Tu scintillante nella tua vallea;

297 We note reminiscences of Dante’s “Canto III” (l. 17) in the expression “le genti dolorose.” It refers to slothful persons. Such an interpretation could be adopted also for the Thrones quoted in Dante’s Paradise. 298 Giorgio De Rienzo, Camerana, Cena e altri studi piemontesi (Bologna: Cappelli, 1972), 39. 299 Camerana, Poesie, 56. 300 Dell’Aquila notes the biblical sources of another poem that opens with “Prega per noi, tornanti alla profonda” (cf. Michele dell’Aquila, “La poesia di Camerana,” Bari: Adriatica Editrice, 1968), 82.

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Prega per questa cieca orgia impossente, Spegni il sogno e l’amor, spegni l’idea.

Starting from the first line of this lyrical prayer, different litanic qualities are operative, while the sestet is a supplication. We observe the opening, a quotation from the body of both the Litany of Loreto and that of the Saints (“Saint Mary, pray for us”). The double use of the litanic formula (“prega per noi”), with a variation in the lines 7 and 9, is relevant evidence of the experiments301 supported directly by the structure of the litany. The lyric potential of the attributes builds the following lines. The chairetismic expression “High Queen” (l. 3) was operative in the medieval Marian poems written in the Italian Peninsula, as well as the model “You + attribute,” which is exploited by Camerana in both anaphoric and internal metrical positions.302 The anaphora that opens lines 2–3 corresponds to the units of versification. The mentioned invocation placed in line 3, with the following litanic formula, joins together lines 2 and 3. Moreover, the salutation and the formula should be strongly unified in the recitation. Out of the typographical set of the poem, an alternative sequence, which is shorter than the hendecasyllable, is here created. To conclude this part of our analysis, in his sonnet Camerana creates a system of breaks which concern the versification. Camerana’s litanic strategies— the metrical anaphora, the invocation, and the praising components—help to alter the traditional metrical and stanzaic form of sonnet. The litanic features of this poetry—some of them inherited, others part of the experimentalism of Camerana—participate in a renewal of the form of the sonnet. It is partially connected to a “crisis of the metrical statutes,”303 a strong need to revise traditional versification which begins in Italy in the late nineteenth century. For decades Camerana worked on his poetry, which is a result of the transposition of his religious sentiment and visual sensibility with the use of litanic elements304—as well as the components of other prayers which are not examined in the present

301 Camerana’s metrical experiments sometimes involve the canonical hendecasyllabic verse, while in other cases we are dealing with non-traditional measures introduced into long-established forms. 302 As in the laudas from the thirteenth-century laudario from Cortona. 303 Antonio Pinchera, La metrica (Milan: Bruno Mondadori, 1999), 126. 304 Petrocchi argues that the religious sentiment of Camerana represents a real moral necessity, and does not arise from musical needs. We will agree, observing the poet’s constant interest in the litany and generally in prayer. Cf. Giorgio Petrocchi, Fede e poesia dell’Ottocento (Padua: Editoria Liviana, 1948), 114.

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work—and he succeeded in advancing out of the techniques embedded in the history of the Italian sonnet. The strongest characteristics of the nineteenth-century sonnet, when observed from the point of view of litanic devices, is the great interest of the genre in the descriptive potential of attributes, antonomasias, and lists composed of short elements. In fact, a few words put together using rhetorical constructions related to the litany condense associations and ideas. Such influences not necessarily related to the theology, Scriptures or the discourse of prayer, which in the religious context always connotes a repertory of meanings. Indeed these elements work well also in secular poetics, which abandon the purpose of sacralizing both topics and receivers and builds up an innovative network of semantic connections.

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19  The Persistence of a Form Among the genres analyzed in the present book, the sonnet is the only form which continued evolving through the twentieth century. Despite the avantgarde movements, free verse, the rise and growth of new metrical forms, and the experimental reclamation of parts of ancient tradition (e.g. the lauda),305 in the first decades of the twentieth century the sonnet was characterized by its stable foundations.306 Even if in the succeeding period, especially starting from the 1940s, the genre underwent changes, it remained formally recognizable. If in the early twentieth century the invocation is the most important litanic reminiscence within the form of the sonnet, in the 1930s we find a cycle of sonnets that are written explicitly following the invocations of the Litany of Loreto. The author is a little-poet, but in some way his so-called garland of poems makes an ideal point of arrival for the present study. We mean Giovanni Fiorini and his collection of sonnets, which somewhat resemble a kind of chaplet to the Virgin Mary. Now, the balance between the implied litanic elements, usually present when the sonnet accepts litanic contamination, a clear reference to the litany in Fiorini, comes down in favor of the latter.

305 Cf. e.g. Sergio Corazzini, “A Gino Calza,” in Sergio Corazzini, Poesie, ed. Idolina Landolfi (Milan: BUR, 1999), 185–6. 306 See the sonnets by, i. a. Gabriele d’Annunzio, Sergio Corazzini, and Guido Gozzano, and the later ones of Clemente Rebora and Umberto Saba (1883–1957). The latter entitled his collected works Il Canzoniere, and the poems included in the book are in large part sonnets. Those poems, written starting from 1900, do not manifest repetitive patterns, nor do they show interest in Christian prayer. Formally they mostly represent the classical type, while both topics and the language pertain to daily life, so the changes concern rather the language than the form. Nevertheless, there are little innovations, such as Saba’s double sonnet, which presents a new anatomy. In later decades, beyond the purview of the present monograph, we would find the interesting sonnets of Giorgio Caproni, published during the 1940s. Caproni’s sonnets present an interesting metrical aspect. In the second half of the century, Andrea Zanzontto would strongly renew the genre. Some other poets continued working in the genre, offering wonderful translations of sonnets, and here we can cite for example Giuseppe Ungaretti, who in 1946 published an anthology of Shakespeare’s sonnets translated into Italian. Cf. Giuseppe Ungaretti, 40 sonetti di Shakespeare, ed. Rossella Terreni (Bologna: ArchetipoLibri, 2010).

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We can agree in some points with the following opinion of Giovanni Getto: Del resto anche questa minore vicenda del sonetto sarà ben presto destinata a spegnersi. Nell’area delle molteplici esperienze del Decadentismo il sonetto, nella sua vita marginale, minacciata da un desiderio sempre più vivo di libertà creativa e di forme aperte, sembra trattato con deliberata e distaccata volontà di richiamo al passato, come stanno a provare D’Annunzio con la sua raffinata e lussuosa archeologia letteraria, Gozzano con il suo sazio e sorridente idillio di squisitezze antiche, Saba infine con quella specie di aulico omaggio a elementi tradizionali […].307

We can say that compared to the nineteenth century, the popularity of the sonnet does not decrease in this period. The presence of litanic qualities is not widespread, and for this reason we can limit the final parts of the current chapter. The degree of poetic experimentation is not great within the form of sonnet, but it exists, at least among the poets that we present in this short analysis. The figures that have litanic roots accompany the attempts at modernizing the genre. This can be found, for example, in the versification—in which tradition prevails308—, the language, which does not present any more an aulic speaking to a high-register receiver, and the internal division of the sonnet into major parts. There is no revolution, but a slow evolution. Throughout these changes the history of the sonnet continues.

19.1  Corazzini’s and Gozzano’s Sonnets Starting from the first years of the century, we introduce a young poet and an exponent of the generation of the so-called Crepuscolarismo (“twilight poetry”). Sergio Corazzini (1886–1907) was a twentieth-century artist strongly influenced by Gabriele d’Annunzio, who developed new metrical forms together with an original semantics of sorrow, of non-belonging to objective reality and of lifeaffecting weakness, which can be interpreted in his poems in both serious and ironic manner.309 Edoardo Esposito speaks about a time of negative affirmations 307 Giovanni Getto, “Introduzione,” XXVI. 308 Corrado Govoni, in his Fuochi d’artifizio (1905), published sonnets in thirteensyllables. Those poems are not analyzed in the present chapter. 309 Not exactly by the part of d’Annunzio’s poetry which is analyzed in the final part of the chapters dedicated to the lauda, but rather by the poems included in the collection Poema paradisiaco, certain theatrical pieces and novels. Other relevant influences are associated with French symbolism, with Nietzsche (but in reading his works the twilight poets drew conclusions different from those of d’Annunzio), and the poetics of Giovanni Pascoli. Cf. Maria Carla Papini, Corazzini (Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1977); Roberta Michelini, “Le fonti di Sergio Corazzini,” Studi novecenteschi 60(2000): 331–45.

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in poetry, such as “io non sono un poeta” (“I am not a poet”).310 Corazzini, who, artistically, had a “brief and tragic career,”311 wrote a number of sonnets in which his poetic style is expressed through the complaining voice of the subject. The invocation is the most relevant litanic technique and it is often accompanied by repetitive patterns. Often the addresser imitates childish language—this is a stylistic mark of the poet.312 One scholar defined this poetry as “unadorned speaking.”313 The sonnets express a personal and individual anxiety, a fear of illness and dying. In this context prayer is also to be interpreted in a specific way,314 and the litanic invocations acquire new expressive capacity. As for the formal aspects, only the versification can become an object of experimentation—the canonical hendecasyllable, which is no longer the most important measure of the lines, can be replaced by seven-syllable lines (following the canon), or the lines can be lengthened. At an early stage of his poetic practice Corazzini wrote sonnets to noble receivers. We may cite, for example, “Acque lombarde”315 (“Lombard waters”) in which the invoked, abstract entity is referred to through antonomasias as “Acque serene,” or “nostalgiche acque” (“serene waters,” l. 1; “nostalgic waters,” l. 5), which are placed in the opening of the stanzas of the octave.316 While the first part of the sonnet focuses on the invocative mode, which helps to describe the Lombard

310 Edoardo Esposito, Metrica e poesia nel Novecento (Milan: Franco Angeli, 1999), 41. 311 This famous definition was given in Emilio Cecchi, “I crepuscolari: Corazzini e Gozzano” in Storia della letteratura italiana. Il Novecento (Milan: Garzanti, 1969), 87. Corazzini, who died at the age of 21, was active as a poet between 1902 and 1906. He published between 1904 and 1906. Cf. Papini, Corazzini, 14–5, 73. 312 This manner of speaking is also present in other poetic genres practiced by this author, including shorts poems composed in terza rima (e.g. “La Madonna e il suo lampioncello”), quatrains (e.g. “Follie”), etc. Cf. Corazzini, Poesie, 96–8, 108. 313 Esposito, Metrica e poesia, 17. This sentence was written by Corazzini, but similar phrases can be found in poems composed by other exponents of the movement. 314 It seems that Sergio Corazzini was particularly devout from childhood. His period of studies in the region of Umbria, which had a rich spiritual and mystical tradition, perhaps strengthened this inclination. Cf. Corazzini, Poesie, 5. 315 Ibid., 95. 316 Corrado Govoni in his youth wrote a sonnet which has a similar, invocative-litanic character. The text, entitled “Laghi” and published in 1903 in his first collection of poems (Le fiale), addresses “O laghi cristallini e smeraldini / […] / o laghi azzurri, o laghi oltre marini / […] / o laghi nei giardini solitari / […] / o laghi in cui i monti immacolati”. Corrado Govoni, Poesie (1903–1958) (Milan: Mondadori, 2000), 9, lines 1, 5, 7, 9.

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lakes, the sestet speaks about the situation of the soul, which would like to set out on a spiritual journey toward the admired waters. In Dolcezze, the first collection of Corazzini’s poems317 we also find “Cremona,”318 a sonnet which includes an invocation to that town. It is worth noting that the invocations occupy the classical position in the opening of the octave and sestet. This gives to the addressee the high-register status of a revered being. “Ballata della Primavera”319 (“Ballad of the Springtime”) is devoted to the famous painting by Sandro Botticelli. In a scheme that recalls the classical rules of the genre, a direct invocation (ll. 1, 9, 12) connects the major parts of the sonnet, while two different anaphoric sequences are placed in lines 7–8 and 9, 12. The first one recalls a litanic rule based on a schematic structure which involves always new elements (ll.8–9): e m’era dolce assai tuo venimento e m’era triste assai tua dipartita;

In the quoted lines one notes the same syllabic scheme of the single words. The small variations within the passage do not interfere with the perfectly symmetric articulation of the stresses. A so-called humble topic320 is represented in “Chiesa abbandonata” (“Abandoned church”),321 a sonnet which opens with an onomatopoeic322 sequence of a bell (l. 1). The text contains not only a typically litanic invocation—which is also the dedication of the church described in the title— and a praise of prayer in the form of a call, but also an enumeration (ll. 9–11), and a final complaint. Let us read lines 1–11, 14: Din, dan, don, dan, o la piccola voce, Santa Maria de la Concezione o, sapiente lunga orazione sotto immobili cieli, ferrea croce;

317 It was published in 1904. 318 Corazzini, Poesie, 99. 319 Ibid., 100. 320 This kind of topic distinguishes twentieth-century poetry from that of the previous epochs. For the critical perspective see for example Edoardo Sanguineti, Tra liberty e crepuscolarismo (Milan: Mursia, 1977); Natale Tedesco, La condizione crepuscolare (Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1970). 321 Corazzini, Poesie, 105. 322 This feature is related to the strong influence of the poetics of Giovanni Pascoli on this and other poets of the early twentieth century. The poetry of Pascoli, especially that developed in the books Myricae and Canti di Castelvecchio, exploits onomatopoeia and several types of repetition. The latter seems not to be associated with forms of litany or any other prayer, but rather with popular genres.

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altari bianchi come anime, buone, o santi lieti nel martoro atroce, o Gabriel, sotto il cui piè, feroce ghigna il ribelle con le luci prone; corone d’oro, manti di broccato, cuori trafitti, bocche dolorose, occhi con occhi in adorazione, […] Santa Maria de la Concezione.

The unusual opening does not obstruct the litany, which starts at line 2. To the Marian antonomasia are added addressees of calls, such as prayer, altars, the saints, and Gabriel. All these components are provided with epithets of phrases, together with which they formulate litanic lines. This description also applies to the mentioned enumeration (ll. 9–11), even if the invocative mode is abandoned at that point. The metrical aspect is not exactly regular in this poem.323 As far as the rhythmical pattern is concerned, a weak tendency to repeat appears in lines 4–6.324 An invocative-antonomastic technique prevails in “Invito” (“Invitation”),325 a sonnet from Corazzini’s second book of poems which was entitled L’amaro calice.326 The poem expresses virtually the essence of the Weltanschauung of the poets of twilight, at least in one of its forms (there are other typical topics and ways of speaking). The litanic manner here decides the structure of the text, both in the anaphoric opening and in the list, which comprises the third stanza: A n i m a   p u r a   come un’alba pura, a n i m a   t r i s t e   per i suoi destini, a n i m a   p r i g i o n i e r a   nei confini come una bara nella sepoltura, a n i m a ,  d o l c e   b u o n a   c r e a t u r a , rassegnata nei tristi occhi divini,

323 Esposito speaks about an intentional approximation of certain rules in the poetry of Guido Gozzano, another exponent of twilight poetry, who uses traditional genres but slightly changes their rules. The statement can be extended to some features of Sergio Corazzini’s poetics. Cf. Esposito, Metrica e poesia, 16–7. 324 Nevertheless, we cannot speak about a unique and exact pattern for those lines. They display an approximate scheme, in which not all the stresses established in the first line of the sequence appear in the following part. 325 Corazzini, Poesie, 123. 326 From 1905.

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non più rifioriranno i tuoi giardini in questa vana primavera oscura. Luce degli occhi, cuore del mio cuore, tenerezza, sorella nel dolore rondine affranta nel mio stesso cielo, giglio fiorito a pena su lo stelo e morto, vieni, ho spasimato anch’io, vieni, sorella, il tuo martirio è il mio.

We highlight the opening invocations, but the whole text is a sequence of calls to the sister–soul. The litanic antonomasias are realized in the form of invocations, appositions, and attributes. At some points they develop in longer and rich periphrases, as occurs in lines 11–12. Moreover, the lily invoked in the last stanza is a Christian symbol with a long tradition in Italian poetry. These expressions take up the model of litany composed of two-element phrases (as in the Litany of the Saints), in which the first word is always the formula, while the following part varies at each line. Certain sonnets by Corazzini include local lists, which do not interfere with the structure of the poems. This is found, for example, in “Cappella in campagna. IV” (“Countryside chapel”).327 In other cases we find a global litanic attempt, which is strengthened by the use of a list. An example is one of the sonnets collected in the cycle “Toblack”328 which opens with a fourteen-line poem (which is not a sonnet, but a stychic verse), and continues with three classical sonnets. In the first of these (“Toblack. II”), the enumerative opening stanza is joined with a two-line anaphora in the closing part. The desperation of the subject concerns the loss of hope together with mortal ideals—this part corresponds to the model of attributes—and, finally, the lamenting of Life, and the approach of Death (ll. 1–6, 9–14): Le speranze perdute, le preghiere vane, l’audacie folli, i sogni infranti, le inutili parole de gli amanti illusi, le impossibili chimere, e tutte le defunte primavere, gl’ideali mortali, i grandi pianti […] e quanto v’ha Toblack d’irraggiungibile

327 Corazzini, Poesie, 128. 328 Ibid., 132–4.

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e di perduto è in questa tua divina terra, è in questo tuo sole inestinguibile, è nelle tue terribili campane è nelle tue monotone fontane, Vita che piange, Morte che cammina.

In these lines the enjambments, relevantly, are supported by the anaphora, which is syntactic and metrical. This concerns both the list and, in a special way, the repetitive order of the sestet. The most interesting sonnet of this group is “I suoi occhi” (“Her Eyes”)329 in which both enumerative and invocative intent is explicit. The density of the list, which unites the litanic model of the attribute with wider periphrastic expressions, is accompanied by a direct call, which appears only once (ll. 1–6): Occhi, vele di smalto, nostalgia dell’anima, astri vividi cui tesi le braccia stanche, dolci lumi accesi languidamente di malinconia, laghi d’azzurro cui sembra, o Maria, terribilmente un’atra nube pesi,

It is worth noting the opposition (a syntactic mean, l. 1) followed by an attribute, then periphrases (rhetorical devices, ll. 2–3) and an attribute which continues as a periphrasis (ll. 3–4). The last two figures are based on enjambments. We find a very high the concentration of litanic features, which are even developed (in the periphrases) in this text, which might be defined as a contemporary litany compressed into a sonnet. It should be said that the rhythmical aspects are not deployed in any specific manner. In any case, we remember that the litanic qualities that infuse the sonnet starting from the early thirteenth century rarely include this aspect. “L’attesa” (“The wait”)330 is an anaphoric-litanic type of sonnet in which the permutations that open the sestet can be related to either the hierarchic or the logical order of the involved elements, which render a worldview.331 The first anaphora is announced twice (in the opening of the poem and in the middle of

329 Ibid., 304. 330 Ibid., 255. 331 As is generally acknowledged, the Litany of the Saints presents an order of the invoked groups of addressees (Holy Mary, Archangels, Patriarchs, Prophets, etc.). This expresses, as one can realize, a vision of the world.

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line 4), to be exploited, in the sestet, in the metrical positions at the beginning of lines together with a second repetitive order created ad hoc (ll. 9–14): come ogni foglia attende il suo fiore come ogni fiore attende il suo frutto come ogni notte attende il suo sole; così, così col cuore che mi duole nell’attesa, dimentico di tutto così, così, t’attendo, dolce amore!

“Dopo” (“After”)332 is a poem with only one antonomastic call, placed through an enjambment between lines 3–4, “Oh! Primavere / di giardini lontani!” (“Oh! Springtimes  / of the far gardens”)—in this way one of the most typical topoi of the twilight poetics is stressed. The poem is written in seven-syllable verse, which is not an experimental, but rather a rare, meter for a sonnet.333 Sonnets written in longer lines are represented by “Il cuore e la pioggia” (“The Heart and the rain”),334 which includes three similar calls placed in the opening of both the octave and the sestet. We clearly see that an experimental attempt at modifying the verse is accompanied by structural transformations of the form of the sonnet. The same set-up concerns other sonnets by Corazzini, for example, “Dittico della chiesa,” “Sonetti all’amica. I,” “L’anima,” “A la sorella”335 (“Church diptych,” “Sonnets to the friend. I,” “The Soul,” “To the sister”). A typically litanic connector is used within the octave of “A Nina,”336 (“To Nina,” ll. 3, 5) a sonnet written in the dialect of Rome. We may conclude that in this concrete perspective Corazzini’s formal experimentation is in some way incomplete, as it does touch certain elements of the genre while others follow traditional rules of the genre. To conclude, Corazzini’s sonnets reconcile the formal components of the tradition of sonnet with certain innovative elements which involve the discreet presence of litanic elements. Certain stylistic traits of the language of this poet influence the sonnet and cannot be only interpreted as a characteristic of the poetic experimentation on the sonnet genre. We mean here the relation between

332 Corazzini, Poesie, 191. 333 As we remember, it is the second canonical verse of the Italian tradition, but the greatest number of the sonnets are composed in the hendecasyllable. 334 Corazzini, Poesie, 129. 335 Ibid., 281–1, 143, 162. Some of those sonnets manifest small metrical innovations, others do not. They all use the connectors in the traditional manner. 336 Ibid., 233. The poetry written in various dialects of the Italian Peninsula is very rich, but it lies outside the scope of the present monograph.

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the metrics and the syntax, which modifies the meters instead of fitting them, as has been pointed out by Eposito.337 Enjambment is one of the figures used, but we note that litanic devices help to balance the articulation, which could become more “crumbled” in the absence of invocative-repetitive patterns which are distantly associable with litanies. If the enjambment widens the verse, the repetition regularizes the recitation (or the silent reading) of the macro-parts. We do not find many sonnets in which this characteristic prevails, but its presence should be added to the global considerations concerning experimentations on the genre, which at the beginning of the twentieth century counted almost eight hundred years of uninterrupted tradition. Litanic qualities are also present in a small group of sonnets by Guido Gozzano, especially in his first collection of poems, entitled La via del rifugio,338 which was published in 1907. Very few of the sonnets excluded from Gozzano’s collection contain litanic features. Also in these poems the invocative mode prevails.339 Among them, we find a poem for which the liturgical language is structurally relevant. Here is an excerpt (ll. 4, 5–10):340 In alto in alto i cuori! E tu ben sai. In alto, in alto i cuori! I marinai Cantano leni, ride l’equipaggio, l’aroma dell’Atlantico selvaggio mi guarirà, mi guarirà, vedrai! Di qui, fra cielo e mare, o Benedetta, io ti chiedo perdono nel tuo nome

Among many differences between Gozzano and Corazzini, the imported elements are well recognizable in the former—the memory traces of the languages that converge in poetry are very important for Gozzano—and are absorbed in a

337 Esposito, Metrica e poesia, 44–5. 338 The second collection, I colloqui (first ed. 1911), includes few sonnets and it displays some interest in experimental metrical forms. Making his debut as a poet, Gozzano dedicated more attention to traditional genres. 339 See for example the invocations in the sonnet “L’inganno,” in which two direct calls articulate the second stanza (“Madre Terra sei tu che trasfiguri / la vigilia dei giorni foschi e crudi? / O Madre Terra buona, tu che illudi / fino all’ultimo giorno i morituri!”). Cf. Guido Gozzano, Opere, ed. Giusi Baldissone (Turin: Utet, 2006), 114, lines 4–8. 340 “46*,” ibid., 358. The sonnet was composed in 1908, shortly after the publication of La via del rifugio, as the commentary says.

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personal manner, adapted to a child-like style, in the latter. In the cycle, “I sonetti del ritorno” (“The sonnets of the return”)341 we note the invocatory manner, which appears in the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth of these poems. The meters of the sonnets are canonical, and the calls are placed in traditional points. The objects, or the receivers, are the home (“O casa,”342 “I sonetti del ritorno. II,” l. 9); the grandfather (“O Nonno,” “I sonetti del ritorno. III,” l. 1; “Nonno,” “I sonetti del ritorno. IV,” l. 1); “Oh thou, whom I invoke” (“O tu, che invoco,” “I sonetti del ritorno. V,” l. 1). In the closing sonnet, the positions of the anaphoric elements of direct calls and figures are unusual. The subject appeals to old rooms, to the roof, to Jesus (“I sonetti del ritorno. VI,” ll. 1–6, 9–11): Avventurato se colui che visse pellegrinando, eppur così v’agogna, o vecchie stanze, aulenti di cotogna, o tetto dalle glicini prolisse, avventurato se colui morisse in voi! E in Te, Gesù, nella menzogna […] Questo è nei voti del perduto alunno, o Gesù Cristo! Un letto centenario m’accolga sotto il mònito dell’Ore.

Repetitions do not create a religious context. On the contrary, there is a spiritual intention, related to a discourse on one’s own death, which involves the anaphoric and invocative expressions—this is the main difference between the two Gozzano poems that we examine here. The last example is interesting, as the author abandons any purpose of connecting, through litanic devices, the major parts, or their sub-parts.343 In the octave the syntax can be considered to be a unifying element, while the sestet is composed of two sentences without any internal connector. A burlesque sonnet,344 on a silly goose, manifests interesting patterns 341 Ibid., 104–9. 342 This invocation also appears in the first sonnet of the cycle, line 3. 343 But it is necessary to note the repetition of the invocation to Jesus and its compacting function between the octave and the sestet. 344 This type of sonnet has its own tradition of repetitive textual structures, which are not analyzed in the present monograph. The nineteenth century has a known author of burlesque sonnets written in the dialect of Rome. The litany is present within his collections. We mean Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli and his “Le lettanie de Nannarella,” and “Le lettanie der viatico,” in which litanic attributes, expressed through words which are a mangling of dialect and Latin, are explicitly used together with formulas

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occurring between the second and third stanza of the poem. In this poem, “La differenza” (“The difference”)345 (ll. 5–11) a triple anaphora, in which the subject speaks about the goose in the third person, is accompanied by a direct call: Salpa starnazza si rituffa gioca: né certo sogna d’essere mortale né certo sogna il prossimo Natale né l’armi corruscanti della cuoca. — O pàpera, mia candida sorella tu insegni che la Morte non esiste: solo si muore da che s’è pensato.

The metrical aspects of the text are regular, and the litanic passage is built up to connect the octave and the sestet. In such a manner we obtain a sonnet in which litanic elements are traditionally arranged. Gozzano’s and Corazzini’s sonnets represent a chapter in the long history of the sonnet, a chapter in which the solidity of a form—in both its general shape and its openness to litanic elements—is still dominant. Any purpose to modify the form seems too shy to go beyond use of some of the elements commonly employed in that period to update the poetic tradition rather than to revolutionize the literary genres. This will also be the case of the last author whom we discuss in this part of our monograph; in order to see real innovations in the form of sonnet one would have to look at the time of the Second World War.

19.2  Giovanni Fiorini’s Chaplet of Sonnets Giovanni Fiorini is a very little-known poet, who was active between the 1910s and the 1940s,346 and who in 1931 published a book of sonnets devoted to the Virgin Mary.347 Why do we close with such a figure? As we have just observed, despite the persistence of the genre, the originality of Italian sonneteers was not very great in the first four decades of the twentieth century, or, as we might better (e.g. “Ora pre nobbi,” “Òra proè”). Cf. Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli, I sonetti, ed. Maria Teresa Lanza (Milan: Feltrinelli, 1965), vol. III, 1558; vol. IV, 2200. 345 Gozzano, Opere, 110. 346 Giovanni Fiorini published books of poetry from 1916 to 1943. He is a nearly forgotten name, and it is impossible to find detailed notes about his life and work in handbooks dedicated to the history of Italian poetry. 347 Fiorini published several collections of sonnets, especially in the late 1920s, in the early 1930s, and during the Second World War. His works were issued by publishing houses from the Veneto region (mostly Tipografia Alle Arche Scaligere).

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put it, their innovations were minimal. At the same time, in Fiorini’s collection the form of the sonnet meets the Litany of Loreto. This blending, in the history of the sonnet genre, did not become explicit until this moment. We have searched for structural points, quotations, and semantic components. We have traced these aspects back to a hypothesized common origin. Here—at the end, and not, as one could ideally have wished, at the beginning of the entire story—we finally arrive at a declared weaving together of the sonnet and litany genres. We may also say, at this moment, that litanic qualities work well when they are hidden. They can be less convincing when we are dealing with them being employed in a way that reminds us of the purposes of “programme music.” In Fiorini’s 1931 collection the litanic link is visible, on the one hand, on the cover—which reads, “Giovanni Fiorini / Litanie: sonetti”—and on the other in the general index, where the list of titles of sonnets renders a perfectly litanic framework for the entire book. Here is an excerpt of the index (I have omitted the page references):348 IX Sancta Maria X Sancta Dei Genitrix XI Sancta Virgo Virginum XII Mater Christi XIII Mater Divinae Gratiae XIV Mater purissima

The Roman notation indicates the order of the poems within the book, which is composed of sixty-one poems. Fifty-nine of them are invocations that originate from the Litany of Loreto. The author undoubtedly used a recent version of this prayer, as in the list are found expressions such as “Regina sine labe originali concepta”349 (a nineteenth-century dogma and the title of sonnet LIV) and “Regina sacratissimi rosarii” (sonnet LV). The Latin of the titles contrasts to the Italian, which is used in the poems themselves. The former occasionally appears 348 Giovanni Fiorini, Litanie: sonetti (Verona: Stabilimenti tipografici domani d’Italia, 1931), 137. 349 The presence of this invocation is undoubtedly related to the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary which was published in the papal bull of 1854. Comparing Fiorini’s index and versions of the litany, we note that the other invocations he chose are present in the medieval versions of the litany, especially in the forms used in Italy. For the text: Gilles Gérard Meersseman, Der Hymnos Akathistos im Abendland (Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1960), vol. 2, 225–7. For the early twentieth-century versions of the litany, we use the book of prayer Ore di grazia. Preghiere cristiane per la gioventù, ed. Giovanni Borsieri (Milan: E. Tenconi & C., 1905).

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within individual poems, as in “IX Sancta Maria,”350 in which the repetition is also thematicized (ll. 1–4): Che Tel ripeta anch’io, Vergine pia, Il titol che sì bene a Te convegna, La voce di cui Tu sei così degna; Che Tel ripeta anch’io: Sancta Maria!

As we see, the litanic elements do organize one aspect of the text—the invocations that are used create an iterative pattern, a fact which metrically delineates what we could call a litanic unit.351 Similar linguistic and rhetorical, but not metrical, strategy can be found in sonnet “XII Mater Christi,”352 in which the Latin phrase is present in the opening and later in lines 9 and 12: “O Mater Christi, pure non amata”; “Tu, Mater Christi, in queste basse offese” (“Oh Mater Christi, who was not loved;” “Thou, Mater Christi, in these low insults”). In this second case, the role of invocation is important for the inner structure of the sestet. The litany as a topic appears in the opening poem. This is a prayer in which the subject, a plural voice (“we”), represents a pluralis maiestatis, who promises “Da offerirti ogni dì le litanie” (“To offer you each day the litanies,” l. 4). The sonnet does not manifest Marian antonomasias nor repetitive patterns. Also the last sonnet, the exhortation, which follows three sonnets on “Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi,” explicitly refers to the litanic prayer. Here is an excerpt (ll. 9–11):353 Ed ogni giorno come una corona Di fiori offriamo a Lei le litanie, Con quel cor, che alla madre s’abbandona.

Semantic elements that are typical of the devotion of the Virgin Mary accompany the mention of the litany. In this perspective, it is necessary to remember that there are other sonnets which exploit this aspect of Marian tradition related to the litany. In “XI Sancta Virgo Virginum”354 the topic is fragrance, and it is associated with Marian attributes. This recalls the laudistic tradition of the Middle

350 Fiorini, Litanie, 29. 351 In the litanies the metrical unit is the line. In the analyzed poem, thanks to the invocations, it seems to be extended to the quatrain. 352 Fiorini, Litanie, 35. 353 “Esortazione,” ibid., 133. The first and last poems of the collection are not numbered and the title of the last is in Italian. 354 Ibid., 33.

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Ages.355 A closer look at a passage reveals the connection between virtues of the Virgin and poetry (ll. 5–8): Ed hanno i gigli mai su questa via Del Tuo profumo la diva ricchezza, Quell’olezzo che canta la bellezza, Di Tua virtù l’eccelsa poesia?

The attributes are exploited in a more litanic manner in other sonnets, for example, in “XVII Mater intemerata.”356 This poem opens with two appositions: “Vello di Gedëon, argentea luna” (“Fleece of Gideon, silvery moon” l. 1). “XX Mater boni consilii,”357 presents the opposite case, in which the relevance of the invocation is exposed by its being placed in the closing line and by recalling its Latin shape (ll. 12–14): Quando più foschi questi nostri esili Saran di notte procellosa, oh, gridi Il cor: pietà, Mater boni consilii.

As in sonnet “IX Sancta Maria” an identity is created between the title of the poem and one of its lines, in this case the relevance is high as the Latin invocation closes the text. Moreover, the ending call is a seven-syllable phrase which occurs in the a minore type of hendecasyllable. We remember that the former is the second most important meter of both the entire Italian tradition, and the genre of sonnet. A litanic-like phrase which recalls Petrarch’s poem at the end of the Canzoniere is found in “XIX Mater admirabilis.”358 This is the invocation to “Vergine bella” (“O Virgin fair,” l. 11) that begins Canzone 366.359 In this manner, a modern interpretation incorporates both early litanic phrases and an aulic tradition of their use in Italian poetry.

355 This brings us back to the lauda Rayna possentissima, which has been analyzed in the first part of the present monograph. 356 Fiorini, Litanie, 45. 357 Ibid., 51. 358 Ibid., 49. 359 Interestingly, in the second quatrain, which precedes the stanza that has been quoted in part, the lines recall medieval manners of composing, as each sentence corresponds to a metrical line. The form of question is less common in medieval poetry, but we remember Petrarch’s and Boccaccio’s sonnets built up on questions. The problem is analyzed in chapters thirteen and fourteen of the present monograph.

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Among Fiorini’s sonnets, we find other stylistic manners that employ litanic devices. Sonnet “XXIII Virgo prudentissima”360 duplicates the title, altering slightly the invocative expression at line 9 (“Tu, donna prudentissima, Maria,” “Thou, Mary, most prudent woman”). This creates an original connection between the line and the title. More modern, at least as regards meter, is sonnet “XXIV Virgo veneranda.”361 The call to the Virgin is operative in lines 9 and 10 too. Placed as an enjambment, it thematizes the attitude of invoking Holy Mary: “Se la Chiesa ti chiama veneranda  / Vergine, in cielo a lato del gran Giudice” (“If the Church calls you venerated / Virgin, in heaven, close to the great Judge”). We now turn to the possibility of a link between the titles and the texts of the sonnets. There is such a possible link for example in “XLI Stella mattutina,”362 in which an echo of the title rings in line 11 (we cite starting from l. 9): Pur nella pace, celeste regina, Tu, che ne ascolti, ne inviti, ne ami: Noi T’invochiamo, stella mattutina!

Another echo between Latin and Italian, in which the texts of the sonnets are composed, is more perceptible in “IV Christe, exaudi nos.”363 In line 9 a translation of the supplication from the title is introduced: “Esaudiscici sì, Cristo Gesù” (“Hear us, yes, Jesus Christ”). A similar scheme organizes “VII Spiritus Sancte, Deus, Miserere Nobis,”364 in which the invocation (“Spirito santo, Dio,” “Holy Spirit, God”) is converted into an anaphora which opens the stanzas of the octave (ll. 1, 4). Another strategy is followed in sonnet “XLII Salus infirmorum,”365 in which the interaction between the title and the opening of the sestet is explicative and periphrastic. Line 9 expands on the title of the poem (ll. 9–11): E’ la vergine madre de gl’infermi La salute; contro la sua potenza Non hanno i morbi più validi schermi.

Such connections are typical of Fiorini’s litanic technique, which makes the paratext an integral and relevant part of the whole litanic construction. This relation between the sonnet and any paratextual indication is essential for the existence of a chaplet within the litanic sonnet, in which it is inserted. The title, the body 360 Fiorini, Litanie, 57. 361 Ibid., 59. 362 Ibid., 93. 363 Ibid., 19. 364 Ibid., 25. 365 Ibid., 95.

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of the text, and the context of poetic prayer complement one another in this framework. Another case of a litanic use is represented by the use of lists. In sonnet “XXVI Virgo potens”366 the octave is built out of an enumeration of names accompanied by a double anaphora (“Che son,” “Che sono,” “What are,” ll. 1, 5) which culminates in two questions. The sestet is dedicated to antonomasias—the first of them simply opens line 9 (“Madre di Dio,” “Mother of God”), while the second occurs in lines 12 and 13: Ve r g i n   Ti volle Iddio e forza una, I n v i n c i b i l ,  s o v r a n a   s a p ï e n z a,

The words printed in bold type construct a “vertical” attribute of the Virgin across two lines. It accompanies a more conventional, “horizontal” description, which follows the rules of both writing and reading. This new manner of depicting attributes can be ascribed to artistic innovation in the visual aspects of poetry, which was occurring during the early twentieth century, especially by avant-garde writers. Sonnet “XXXII Vas spirituale,”367 opens with appositions (ll. 1–4): Calice di purezza spirituale, Urna, la sola arca dello Spirito Che dell’Eterno desse umano Figlio, Appar Maria nel viver trïonfale.

The start of the text is syntactically connected with the last quoted line, in which we discover that the appositions are put before the predicate. The passage from the second to the third cited lines is here relevant, as in this middle part shorter, litanic devices are developed in a periphrasis which connects the descriptive opening of the stanza with the rest of the sentence. The anaphoric type is well represented by sonnet XLIV368 (ll. 1–10): CONSOLATRIX AFFLICTORUM Quanti che strazia la miseria in terra E quanti nel dolor che non ha fine! Quanti l’angoscia nelle sue ruïne E giorno e notte fatalmente atterra! Quanti coi morbi più letali in guerra; Quanti della sventura fra le spine!

366 Ibid., 63. 367 Ibid., 75. 368 Ibid., 99.

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Quanti nel breve, terrestre confine Son prigion’di quai pene il dì rinserra! O Vergine Regina, de gli afflitti Consolatrice, tanto e tanto pianto

We here note two types of anaphoric symmetry. In the even lines of the opening stanza the anaphoras are enriched in polisyndeton, while in the second quatrain we observe a triple enumerative anaphora. In this way, the octave represents a traditional approach to the litanic influence on the genre. At the same time we note a double invocation, which opens the sestet. The second one, or the enjambment, explicates the sonnet’s Latin title. Its presence unifies the litanic mode inherited from other authors with the personal and powerful technique of exploiting this connection. We may add that the character of litanic prayer can be interpreted in two ways, conventional and personal. The sonnets that open Fiorini’s collection have a plural addresser—there is a “we” or an impersonal subject who asks, invokes, or praises. A modern approach can be found in a few poems whose voice is the first-person singular. Nevertheless, also in these cases the major concern of the speaker is to restore the collective voice of humanity. Fiorini’s meters are traditional,369 or very close to it, and the litany within his poems only occasionally yields iterative patterns or a precise identity of stresses. On the one hand, the tradition of the sonnet does not allow metrical contamination, as the present study argues; on the other, the intrinsic structure of litanic devices used by the poet does not foster any repetitive pattern of stresses.

19.3 Conclusions To conclude, the sonnet in the early decades of the twentieth century preserves its traditional features, especially its metrical aspects. What changes is topics and the lexicon, and these two formal conditions do not resist litanic elements. Their potential is exploited by constructing invocations to holy addressees, calls to any kind of receiver, often to a daily-life-register beings or entities. In the past the main trend in the use of litanic antonomasias in sonnets had been their praising character. The twentieth-century sonnet resists this chairetismic quality; it 369 The trend is a regular hendecasyllable, but we find a number of lines that are slightly adequate to the hendecasyllable or in some way break the conventions of the traditional meter. Nevertheless, there is no coherent metrical experimentation in Fiorini’s sonnets. Rhythmical patterns are also absent, but this feature is typical of the genre of sonnet, when it is contaminated by the litanic techniques.

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is interested in the rhetorical potential both of litanic invocation and of antonomasia. We also note that the anaphoric repetition falls out of use. This renders obsolete the repetitive sequences of stresses, even if this feature had already been weakened in the sonnet. Such inclination to avoid litanic-anaphoric repetitions is consistent with the general trends of the period. During this time the sonnet was not a subject of much experimentation. At the same time it did not reflect, in a pronounced way, the main metrical tendencies of the period. Still, new ways of acknowledging litanic devices within the sonnet show that it evolved, very slowly, toward incorporating more up-to-date formal techniques.

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Part III:  Around the Canzonetta and Ode

20  The Seventeenth Century At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Alessandro Tassoni published his anti-Petrarchan treatise Considerazioni sopra le rime di Petrarca (1609), in which the literary tendency that had determined a great part of the previous epoch was seriously criticized from the linguistic, metrical, and thematic point of view. What is of most interest in that work—in which the greater part of Rerum Vulgarium Fragmenta is commented on in a spirit that today sounds surprisingly modern1—is the distance from Petrarch, and even more from Petrarchism. Such a strong sensation is not linked with the genre of the sonnet, which at that time was still very popular. In the first decades of the seventeenth century the mature writers, such as Tommaso Campanella, continued to write sonnets, but younger poets tested new lyrical genres together with new semantics, in order to adapt their outlook to a world which was changing with the Reformation, the Council of Trent, and the long period of wars. During this period the purist paradigm ends. A mixing of genres is now promoted, which will lead eventually to a modern resolution of the poetic genres. Many new tendencies appear, and they are not always coherent. We can mention the Mannerism of Giambattista Marino, which renews both the sonnet and the long poem, the poetics of “the graceful” of Gabriello Chiabrera, who published sonnets, but popularized above all the ode and canzonetta forms, the close “baroque classicism” of Fulvio Testi, the Tuscan anti-baroque, and the field of the mock-heroic satiric and historical poetry inaugurated in that epoch by Tassoni himself.2 All these issues also concern the relation between music and poetry: the seventeenth and the eighteenth centuries register a real flourishing of forms that put together words and music, within

1 “Ma non vo già neanco che mi siano vendute vesciche per lanterne, che se qui con esattezza si considerano lo stile, l’ordine, ed i concetti, niuno dirà che quanto al primo, questi versi non dieno nel basso […], oltre il cattivo suono di quel me me me mi del secondo; […]. Cf. Alessandro Tassoni, Considerazioni sopra le Rime del Petrarca d’Alessandro Tassoni col confronto de’ luoghi de’ poeti antichi di varie lingue. Aggiuntaui nel fine vna scelta dell’Annotazioni del Muzio ristrette, e parte esaminate (Modena: Giulian Cassani, 1609), 2. Tassoni’s tone is even mocking (cf. Orazio Bacci, Le “Considerazioni sopra le Rime del Petrarca di Alessandro Tassoni” (Turin–Florence–Rome: Loescher, 1887), 27–61. 2 La secchia rapita is a burlesque poem on chivalrous battles between the citizens of Bologna and Modena, the cause of which is indeed… a bucket stolen from a well.

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both the sacred (i.e. litany, cantata, oratorio) and profane genres, as the opera (aria or arietta).

20.1  Chiabrera and the Beginnings of the Canzonetta The object of the present part of our work will be the genres of the canzonetta and ode. In Italian literature the latter evolved starting from the formal scheme of the former; both were in use from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century. We will consider also other forms that are metrically close to these genres and derive from experimentations on them. The origin of the canzonetta should, it is generally held, be researched in folk models. On the other hand, Chiabrera worked on the Pindaric style and the Anacreontic legacy. Thus, a passion for classical and bucolic elements is here accompanied by that for popular poetry, which had a great influence on the development of the canzonetta and its connection with the musical form of aria.3 Let us start by analyzing Chiabrera’s canzonetta. We will follow with an examination of the works of the eighteenthcentury poet and librettist Pietro Metastasio, of the nineteenth-century Italian patriots and poets, and of an experimental book of odes by Giosuè Carducci and the religious canzonettas from around the turn of the twentieth century. But we shall start with the origins of the genre: Come si è già avuto occasione di ricordare, è tra Cinque e Seicento, col Trissino e con Bernardo Tasso, col Chiabrera e col Guidi, che si verifica la prima, autentica, profonda, ‘rivoluzione’ formale nella storia della nostra poesia.4

In Chiabrera’s poetry the canzonetta predominates and even other, paratextual, indications of the genre refer, in fact, to reduced or extended forms of canzonetta.5

3 Only in the last decades of the eighteenth century, after Gluck’s reform of opera, was the textual part definitely subordinated to the musical composition, while in the first century of the development of this musical-literary form the synergy between poetry and music was high. 4 Francesco Bausi and Mario Martelli, La metrica italiana: teoria e storia (Firenze: Le lettere, 1996), 205. The Italian ode has its roots in Bernardo Tasso’s works, and the canzonetta is also linked with the work of Leonardo Giustinian, a fifteenth-century Venetian poet and intellectual whose laudas we have analyzed in the previous part of the present work. Ibid., 178. 5 Bausi, Martelli, La metrica italiana, 183–5. It is worth noting that in Pietro Bembo’s Asolani irregular forms of canzone appeared, which could be remotely equated to the seventeenth-century canzonetta. In the following periods the formal aspects of the

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As Pier Luigi Cerisola argues,6 Chiabrera popularized the genre.7 His metrical innovations start from private considerations on the character of the vernacular poets of the Italian Peninsula. In Chiabrera’s opinion they were not audacious enough. Most of Chiabrera’s artistic energy was used to create a wide metrical repertoire in order to enrich shorter meters. In fact, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the seven-syllable lines in their various shapes (paroxytone, proparoxytone, and apocopated) came back as the main point of reference for the poetry.8 Moreover, Chiabrera and its successors experimented with rhythmic schemes, trying to recreate some classical meters in Italian versification, which is syllabic. Especially in the collections of Chiabrera’s Canzonette these operations are emphasized through paratextual notes accompanying the poems. Experimentation on rhythmical aspects would continue in the late nineteenth century with the so-called barbarian meters created by Giosuè Carducci.9 Under these circumstances the importance of figures of repetition increases, as they influence the metrical shape of the verses. The length of stanzas—from four to six lines—is questioned too. In the field of canzonetta experiments are also carried out on rhyme patterns. The seventeenth-century poets introduce non-correlated lines inside rhymed poems, and this would soon lead to a free interpretation of traditional stanzaic schemes.10 As a last observation it is worth highlighting that humble topics derived from popular songs come to occupy the place of the love sonnet, and this enriches the thematic interest of the poetry. During the 1590s the first editions of Chiabrera’s most innovative poems were published. I am speaking here of the books Canzonette (Genua, 1591), Le ma­ niere de’ versi toscani, and Scherzi e canzonette morali (1599). In 1625 he published another book of Canzonette, a collection of religious and moral poetry.

6 7

8 9 10

canzonetta would be used for odes and opera arias. In the nineteenth century we will see hymns with similar metrical schemes. Pier Luigi Cerisola, L’arte dello stile. Poesia e letterarietà in Gabriello Chiabrera (Milan: Franco Angeli, 1990), 57. Generally speaking the origin of the canzonetta is dual: poetical and musical. In the first case it is a high-register genre; in the second it comes from the popular medieval songs of the South of Italy. In the history of music, the canzonetta was ennobled by Claudio Monteverdi. In Chiabrera’s works the lyrical canzonetta is related on the one hand to ancient literature, on the other to contemporary French poetry. We will note other unorthodox measures, such as the octosyllable, for example. In the previous centuries some poets, such as Alberti, Tolomei, and Campanella, tried to adopt classical meters. However, this kind of experimentation was a secondary aspect of their works. Cf. Bausi, Martelli, La metrica italiana, 197–8. For the analyzed epoch, we quote Chiabrera and Ciro di Pers.

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While the former works were devoted to profane topics, the latter collection included spiritual verses. Between 1627 and 1628 Chiabrera reorganized and edited his collected works. Chiabrera developed a rich metrical repertory. This helped him to combine in a direct way popular sources and classical prosody. It was also supported by his acquaintance with the French poetry of the time, especially that of Pléiade group and of Pierre de Ronsard.11 We will start our analysis with Le maniere de’ versi toscani, in which short poems are accompanied by a metrical note. “Dolci miei sospiri” (IV; “My sweet sighs”)12 presents a postscript: “Trocaici dimetri ammezzati” (“Trochaic halved dimeters”).13 The canzonetta is composed of six-line stanzas composed of sixsyllable lines, most of which effectively present a trochaic scheme, even if the rule is not strictly observed. In the poem we find forms of anaphoric repetition as well. Let us quote the pattern that opens the text (ll. 1–6): Dolci miei sospiri, dolci miei martìri, dolce mio desio, e voi dolci canti, e voi dolci pianti, rimanete, addio.

Subsequently similar forms underline some onsets (“Ora, miei…,” “Now, my…,” ll. 12–13), or the opening of stanzas (“E se…,” “And if…,” ll. 25, 31). Now, while the syllabic quantity is stable, the rhythmic pattern is not entirely regular. More­ over, we notice the alternation of rhymes and assonances (AAbCCb14). The indication of trochaic dimeter—in Chiabrera’s canzonette it can number from six to nine syllables15—is usefully supported by the anaphoras, especially by the couples that we find in the first, third (“e voi dolci canti, / e voi dolci pianti,” “and you, sweet songs, / and you, sweet cries”), fifth (“a lei dolci canti, / a lei dolci pianti,” “to her sweet songs, / to her sweet cries”), and sixth stanzas (“dite miei sospiri, / dite miei martiri,” “tell me my sighs, / tell me my sufferings”) and even the repeated 11 The debate between scholars highlights on the one hand the influence of Ronsard’s odelettes, and on the other the popular and vernacular roots of the form of canzonetta. 12 Ed. Marcello Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera e lirici del classicismo barocco (Turin: Utet, 1974), 219–21. 13 Unless otherwise indicated translations are mine. In other cases it is indicated in a footnote. 14 Capital letters for the rhymes, small letters for the assonances and consonances. In the second, fourth, and fifth stanzas the scheme is exact (aabccb). 15 Bausi, Martelli, La metrica italiana, 199.

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line ending the first, third, fifth, and sixth stanzas creates a secondary reiterative pattern within the poem. While in the first and second stanzas an effect of refrain is achieved, the dissemination of rhythmically similar lines in the fifth and sixth stanzas leaves a kind of echo, which reminds us of the initial litanic expressions. These repetitive fragments are not invocations, even if they involve a plural pronoun together with an abstract addressee. This stabilizes rhythmically the mid-part of the stanzas, linking it up with the last line through a distant rhyme, preceded by a rhyming couplet (ll. 25–30): E se mai soletta suoi pensier diletta per solingo loco, a lei dolci canti, a lei dolci pianti dite del mio foco.

In such a pattern, a function of the repetition is to help identify the position of the closing line of each stanza. A group of reiterative expressions occurs in a cycle of canzonette dedicated to Amarillide (also called Amarilli),16 a lady love, whose name is associated with flowers. In “Amarillide, deh vieni” (XXIV; “Come, Amarillide”)17 we have a litanic reminiscence which we have also found in Petrarch. The syllabic measure—originally a hendecasyllable—is transposed into a meter which has an even number of syllables. In fact, Chiabrera uses the octosyllable. This implies a change of internal dynamics between the stressed components. The litanic part is limited to the second stanza, which we quote below (ll. 7–12): Vieni almen per trarre un’ora tutta lieta e dilettosa: qui vermiglia esce l’aurora, qui la terra è rugiadosa; qui trascorre onda d’argento; qui d’amor mormora il vento.

The model is Petrarch’s Sonnet 112, from which Chiabrera gets the anaphoric and monosyllabic word that opens the lines. It is put together with another, clearly articulated, stress on the third syllable. This union creates a trochaic pattern in the opening of a group of lines which accompany a praise of place—or a locus amoenus that fits the beloved flower—and not a description of the woman, 16 The name of the woman refers to an exotic flower called amaryllis. 17 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 161–3.

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as in Petrarch. The litanic part is limited to the quoted lines, but it sets up the rhythm for the remaining part of the stanzas and the serene character of the praise, which is in opposition to the restless and mournful tone of the litanic fragment in Petrarch. We also remember that in the Middle Ages the lauda form was composed in seven-syllable lines provided with at least a partial rhythmical pattern.18 Of course, those laudas were often written in odd-syllable verse with a double iambus in the opening, so the affinity may be only conceptual. Chiabrera recovers also the form of sesta rima (ababcc).19 In such a way, we might say that Chiabrera’s canzonetta imitates the classical models combined with vernacular metrics. In this direction we can also interpret the anaphoric insert, which is clearly exposed in the second stanza and rhythmically echoed in the other units of the poem. As far as the trochaic pattern of the opening of the litanic lines is concerned, it is worth noticing that the name Amarilli(de) itself has a primary stress on the third syllable, and a secondary one on the first is conceivable. This underlines the dialogue between this and the subsequent poems, in which we register a number of brief, repetitive fragments following the trochaic scheme.20 In “L’altr’ier per lunga via” (XLVII; “The day before yesterday, for a long way”),21 a canzonetta that manifests a stichic and non-stanzaic structure, we note that the final part is composed based on the same litanic type. The text is a dialogue between Love and Amphitrite, but the lyrical circumstances are built up to express the final, six-line praise of Leonora Ferrera, a lady who exhibits the attributes of Love and who is staying in the town of Savona (indicated by the adverb “là,” “there”, enhanced with anaphora). It is worth noting that the gifts of Love have been transferred to the woman (ll. 60–65): Là de’ miei strali accesi, là dell’arco cocente, là della face ardente, oggi fatta è signora la bella Leonora.

When observing the play on homonyms (the stressed and unstressed particles, as the adverb “là” and the article “la”) that underline the onsets of the seven-syllable 18 See Part I in the present monograph, especially the observations on Jacopone da Todi’s poetry. 19 Bausi, Martelli, La metrica italiana, 195. 20 In Amarilli, onde m’assale (XXV): “Altro bene, altro diletto,” “va volando al suo soggiorno,  / va contenta, va felice,” (ll. 21, 52–53). Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 163–5. 21 Ibid., 195–7.

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lines (with the recognizable couplet rhyme pattern aabbcc…), we see that the sound mark in the onsets links this poem to the litanic manifestations in Chiabrera’s other works. From a semantic point of view, the litanic praise in the religious poetry aimed to promote a model of virtue, which could concern the Virgin, Jesus, or the saints, for whom virtual stories of martyrdom or the good life were “compressed” in polyonymic lists. Now, Chiabrera’s canzonetta pertains clearly to a lay Weltanschauung and in his canzonettas the eulogy always concerns secular objects. There is a group of canzonettas that widen the metrical horizons by introducing syllabic measures within the same stanza: we speak here about short lines, of four to octosyllables, in which the mid-line of each stanza is linked with the final one through an apocopated rhyme.22 In a sesta rima called “Vaghi rai di ciglia ardenti” (“Vague rays of ardent eyelashes”)23 the shortest lines are the second and the fifth. Starting from the first line of the poem, the subject addresses its supplication to the “vague rays” in the opening of two out of eight stanzas, and in three of the lines that close the stanzas. The direct calls unveil a litanic quality of begging through praise (ll. 1–6): Vaghi rai di ciglia ardenti, più lucenti, che del sol non sono i rai; vinti alfin dalla pietate, mi mirate, vaghi rai, che tanto amai.

The second, shorter line of each stanza, as can easily be observed, contains a description of the qualities of the addressee. Together with the final line it reminds us of the Marian appositions, even if in our canzonetta this model is freely interpreted. We observe a similar use in both the second and the last stanza (“raggi ardenti / più lucenti,” “ardent rays / more shining,” ll. 7–8; “lumi ardenti, / più lucenti,” “ardent lights, / more shining,” ll. 43–44). This can be defined as a litanic characteristic translated into a lay context. The idea of speaking to the eyes24—through a metaphor which becomes an antonomasia—exploiting a 22 Rai:amai:guai:affermai, lines 3, 6, 9, 12, 21, 24, 45, 48. 23 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 142–3. 24 In another canzonetta, “Certo ben so che ti lusinga il core,” published separately, we find a litanic description of the female eyes: “tra vaghi rai, sotto begli archi neri / occhi volgea, per man d’Amore accesi; / occhi dolci e cortesi, / occhi duri e acerbi, occhi guerrieri.” (ll. 51–54). Cf. Gabriello Chiabrera, Maniere, scherzi e canzonette morali, ed. Giulia Raboni (Milan–Parma: Fondazione Pietro Bembo–Ugo Guanda, 1998), 80–3.

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manner borrowed from either litanic prayer or spiritual poetry, helps to achieve the effect of a frank, spontaneous tone. A similar litanic type is used with less insistence in “Bella guancia che disdori” (VIII; “Lovely cheek, which blurs”),25 the praise of a cheek, in which the formal aspects do not differ so much from the previously discussed poem. One of the most common litanic modalities—as has been said in the part dedicated to the lauda—is the circumlocutive invocation. This phenomenon is also found in a number of sonnets, but it seems to be closely related to forms of popular poetry, as it is recognizable, for example, in Giustinian’s canzonette, strambotti, and other love poems based on the folk tradition.26 Coming back to Chiabrera, in his poems entitled “Belle rose porporine” (“Riso di bella donna,” XXII; “Lovely crimson roses,” “Laughter of a beautiful woman”),27 the flowers are objects of the litanic chairetisms. Drawing together a religious semantics and popular lexicon, the poet describes them in the following manner (ll. 1–6): Belle rose porporine, che tra spine sull’aurora non aprite; ma, ministre degli amori, bei tesori di bei denti custodite.

In the subsequent stanzas we can find other laudatory expressions, such as “rose prezïose” (“precious roses,” l. 7) and “Belle rose” (“lovely roses,” l. 19). There is a playful association of the love topic with some religious concepts, such as mercy and praise (in the fourth stanza). This originates from the prayer combined with the popular tradition. In many of Chiabrera’s works we meet forms of polyonymy, a litanic quality based on lists of names, which is not widely represented in the Italian poetry of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.28 We recall that the phenomenon started to become generally observable in both the fifteenth-century lauda and the sixteenth-century sonnet. Let us quote a poem from Chiabrera’s collection Le vendemmie di Parnaso, entitled “Ditirambo. Ad uso de’ greci” (“Dithyramb. For 25 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 135–6. 26 Cf. Lionardo Giustiniani, Poesie edite ed inedite, ed. Bertold Wiese (Bologna: Commissione per i testi di lingua, 1968); first ed. 1883. 27 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 157–9. 28 In the second half of the fourteenth century, i.e. Franco Sacchetti wrote a number of poems based on lists of names. Cf. Franco Sacchetti, Il libero delle rime, ed. Franca Brambilla Ageno (Florence: Olschki & University of Western Australia Press, 1990).

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Greeks”).29 In hundred eleven lines the length of the stanzas is variable, and the versification is quite free.30 Also the glorifying character of the genre, borrowed from Greek literature, is maintained. In the second stanza a short, original litany is included (ll. 28–31): Buon Lieo, buon Dionigi, buon Niseo, chi di lui canta sia novello Orfeo.

Reconciling the litanic frame—and replacing “saint” with “good”—with the ancient root of the genre, Chiabrera brings his litanic31 passage into an archaizing context. Once again, a trochaic rhythm is associated with litanic reiteration, which is exploited with a slight difference in the first line of the subsequent stanza too, in which we read about “Bella Filli e bella Clori” (“Lovely Filli and lovely Clori,” l. 32). The pattern is modulated in other points of the poem, such as line 81, which closes a stanza (“o bella Euterpe, secondiamo i canti,” “O lovely Euterpe, we follow the songs”) and the last metrical unit of the poem, in which the Muses are invoked (“Bella Melpomene,  / bellissima Calliope,” “Beautiful Melpomene, / most beautiful Calliope,” ll. 95–96). A list of names occupies the eighth stanza of “Poi ch’al forte cavaliero” (“Al signor Bernardo Castello,” “To a powerful knight,” “To Signor Bernardo Castello”32 ll. 43–48): Evoè il padre Lïeo, Tioneo, Bromio, Bacco, Dionigi; Evoè padre Leneo, Bassareo, ecco io seguo i tuoi vestigi.

This passage, which is little more than a mere enumeration, includes the formula “Evoè”, a loan taken from Latin (and thence from Greek) which in mythology expressed the cry of the bacchantes to honor Dionysus. The formula organizes the enumerated elements, which relate to the beliefs of the subject. In the love canzonettas, both faith and constancy are required, but they do not concern spirituality. A number of poems address female figures. Let us approach 29 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 275–9. 30 The rhyme pattern is also free. Inside the stanzas it includes lines that are not correlated with any other line. 31 “Lieo” seems to be an antonomasia of Dionysus. 32 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 264–8.

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some of them. “Bench’io lungi talora” (“Filirio a Leucippe, che ella sia leale nella sua lontananza”), (“Although I am far away at times,” “Filirio to Leucippe, wishing her to be faithful in their separation”33) is a stichic canzonetta, in which Leucippe is invoked in a prayer-like manner throughout the poem. At a certain point two litanic-anaphoric orders are inaugurated (ll. 15–20, 35–37): Per gli occhi tuoi lucenti, Leucippe, onde m’avventi fiamme per ogni vena; per la fronte serena, per le chiome dorate, per le labbra rosate; […] Bella per cui ridendo, bella per cui piangendo, di me medesmo privo,

The first anaphora recalls clearly, albeit remotely, some laudatory prayers of Bianco da Siena. As far as the second anaphora is concerned, this seems a common way of establishing the litanic connection34 in Italian poetry. However, in the same group we find a polyonymic bond, employed in a short canzonetta included in the collection of Scherzi, entitled “Bella in mar Galatea” (“Alla sua donna”), (“Galatea, lovely in the sea,” “To his woman”35), ll. 1–10: Bella in mar Galatea, bella nell’aria Clori, bella in ciel Citerea, ma tu che m’innamori, del fior della beltate oggi la terra onori; quinci fredde e gelate Marte, Favonio ed Aci lascian le dive amate a sospirare i dolci amori e i baci.

As we can see, this time the litanic list of names is placed in the final position of lines and is linked with an anaphora. Moreover, there is a correspondence of three to three (the female versus the male). Such an association between the anaphora and the polyonymic quality determines the shape of the last stanza of 33 Ibid., 138–41. 34 This litanic pattern with the anaphoric “per” is present in Bianco da Siena’s laudas. 35 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 113.

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“Qual appare Iri celeste” (“Loda la sua donna”), (“How Iri the heavenly appears,” “Praise of his lady”),36 ll. 19–24: Vana in mar Tetide, e Dori, vana Clori per lo ciel cantarsi intese, vana diva ebbe Citera, ma ben vera possi dir la Savonese.

Let us highlight the sequence of names ending certain lines, on the right-hand side of the textual frame. They are preceded by antonomastic qualities, such as the sea and the air (or the heaven) which connote the female figures listed at the end of the lines. We remember that in the fragment of “Bella in mar Galatea” the polyonymic, male references were set out as a mere list. In these poems, the litany is introduced in short fragments and reduced forms. This could be related to the internal economy of the canzonetta form. Coming back to the present example, the list of female names does not establish any rhythmical pattern within the lines. The quoted passage closes the canzonetta with a kind of metrical climax, if we consider that the names placed in the final position of lines count either two or three syllables, while the antonomasia placed at the end of the entire section is a four-syllable word. Creating parity within the group of listed elements—as litany does—thanks to the climax of this closing stanza, the “ben vera” (“real”) beloved from Savona is likened to the ancient nymphs and divinities. In a composition that addresses a beloved named Filli, the enumeration concerns male figures of antiquity and mythological gods. In “Lascia le varie sete” (“Leave the silks”)37 we observe a list of names which closes the second of three stanzas. It contains a sequence of various names of Bacchus (ll. 3–5, 14–16): e facciamo38 alto rimbombare entrambo a queste logge intorno Bacco, Dionigi, Bromio, Ditirambo.

Here we are dealing with an idyll, and the repeated part numbers three lines. The quoted excerpt could seem to be a refrain, as the way the poem closes reminds us of the ballad form. At the same time its final line manifests a strong polyonymic inclination. “Lascia le varie sete” fixes its shape through the first and third five-line stanzas, while the middle stanza is one line longer and built up on the 36 Ibid., 141–2. 37 Ibid., 241–2. 38 In the line 14 the onset is slightly different (“su facciamo…”).

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scheme abcabc. Considering the entire form, a popular origin should be more relevant here than a possible litanic link. An example of contamination from two sources is the canzonetta “Togliti al sonno” (“Invita a vedere la sua donna,” “He invites one to see his lady”)39 which addresses two female names, Tirsi and Fillide. Three of the five short stanzas are opened by a five-syllable: “Tirsi, deh sorgi,” (“Wake up, Tirsi,” repeated twice, in the ll. 5, 13) and “Fillide nostra,” (“Our Fillide,” l. 9). The apostrophe of the opening establishes a measure that is repeated in the final line of each four-line unit. The syllabic correspondence is set up between the opening lines of the stanzas. The polysyndeton of the last stanza of the poem upholds and strengthens this pattern, creating a syntactic connection between the lines of the poem (ll. 17–20): Calmasi il mare, e torna il ciel sereno, e fiorisce ad ogni or pompa amorosa, ove lei posa.

In his canzonettas Chiabrera takes up the love argument, even if generations of Italian poets seemed to have worn it out.40 In his poetry two litanic qualities are exploited: the praising repetition and the polyonymic enumeration. But Chiabrera wrote also spiritual poems, which are certainly less well known. As we remember, this part of his poetics could have inherited some features of the spiritual works of Vittoria Colonna. It seems that Chiabrera did not imitate the formal aspects of her poetry, but he exploited some semantic values of her Christian and poetic devotion. Chiabrera’s Poemetti sacri is a collection that was appreciated starting in the eighteenth century.41 The main feature of his “short poems” is their narrative character, and the form of either terza rima or unrhymed verse, in which the hendecasyllable prevails. The selection of the venerated saints (Agnes, Margaret, and John the Baptist) is subject to the idea of a private pietas.42 The author nurtured an interest in ancient culture. For this reason, as Franco Vazzoler argues, the Old Testament and the Hebrew culture are included and explored in

39 Turchi, Opere di Gabriello Chiabrera, 177. 40 Cerisola, L’arte dello stile, 67. 41 These “short poems” were placed in the first and the fourth volume of the collected works by Chiabrera published in 1627–1628. Cf. Franco Vazzoler, “Introduzione,” in Gabriello Chiabrera, Poemetti sacri, eds. Luca Beltrami and Simona Morando (Venice: Marsilio, 2007), 9. 42 Ibid., 13.

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his spiritual poems, such as the stories of Judith, David’s Lion,43 and the Flood.44 The narrative nature of these poems makes them almost impervious to the potential litanic qualities that we have observed in the love canzonettas. From the formal point of view, while Colonna’s spiritual sonnet is subjected to litanic patterns, Chiabrera religious poetry is far from displaying such an inclination. At the same time, where a new, lay mentality shapes Chiabrera’s poems, a religious syncretism is practiced and this concerns also the formal aspects of this poetry. As the spiritual poetry is related to a private piety—it is a relevant part of the biography of the author but not the principal trend in his creative work—a smaller part of Chiabrera’s poems touches religious arguments. Moreover, the metrical inspiration seems to be outside the context of prayer. The influences come probably from the tradition of the Italian narrative, longer poems. The intellectual dominant of Chiabrera’s works is constructed on another basis, […] scegliendo a modello non più uno ma due poeti dell’antica Grecia, Saffo ed Anacreonte.45

Before concluding, we would like to pause for a moment to consider some observations by Luigi Cerisola, who notes the frequency and importance of the repetitive patterns in Chiabrera’s works: E così, le figure retoriche della ripetizione [epifrasi, dittologie], che il Chiabrera sparge prodigalmente nei testi delle Canzonette, hanno la funzione primaria di rafforzare la significanza di un lessema o di un sintagma, aumentando il tasso di ridondanza locale; ma, per l’isomorfismo tra catena dei contenuti e struttura dell’espressione, innegabile ne è altresì il ruolo di ribattitura timbrica ed accentuativa; certo, con l’effetto differenziato, a seconda che la ripetizione si realizza a contatto come nella variante elementare della palillogia […]; oppure, a distanza, come le molte anafore ad inizio di verso […].46

Cerisola emphasizes the articulation of the patterns, for example, that syllabic. The observation is insightful, but we are convinced that these aspects of Chiabrera’s poetics have not been explored thoroughly enough. When the schemes referred to accompany the anaphora, we would speak about a litanic rhythm that marks lines, stanzas, or fragments of texts. Cerisola also tries to distinguish formally between Chiabrera’s Anacreontic (or melic) canzonettas, ballads, and

43 “Il leone di David,” the text of the poem: ibid., 101–5. 44 Vazzoler, “Introduzione,” 15–6. 45 Cerisola, L’arte dello stile, 59. 46 Ibid., 74–5.

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barzellette.47 After Chiabrera the use of non-paroxytone rhymes increased precipitously, so the presence of the proparoxytone and apocopated rhyme in the following epochs is not uncommon. However, we would like to stress that the formal experimentation that is clearly present in Chiabrera’s love canzonettas involves two litanic marks—anaphoric order and polyonymic enumeration— which stress the gait of the meters he employs.

47 Cerisola, L’arte dello stile, 61–3. In any case, there is no fixed metrical scheme that allows distinguishing of the quoted forms.

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21  The Poetry and Opera Metastasiana48 The works of Chiabrera linked seventeenth-century poetry with the epoch of the Academy of Arcadia, founded in Rome in 1690. We may speak about a place and a moment to harvest the literary ferment of an entire century in order to create poetic trends for the following epochs. The turn of the eighteenth century became an important point of reference for generations of poets up to the age of Alessandro Manzoni and Giacomo Leopardi. The concurrent development of poetry designed to be accompanied by music created the basis for almost two centuries of the history of opera. Pietro Metastasio unified and freshly elaborated classical sources and inspirations, starting from the canzonetta form, Giambattista Marino’s poetics, and the influence of the Academy of Arcadia. Metastasio was an adopted son of Gian Vincenzo Gravina, a writer and intellectual, who introduced his pupil to Roman and Neapolitan cultural milieux. In his youth Metastasio was steered toward poetry and the law, and only after Gravina’s death did he begin to compose works for the theater.49 The first of them was Didone, performed in 1724 in Naples and written for the singer Marianna Bulgarelli. The work was a great success, and it made the author a renowned librettist in Italy and abroad. In 1729, the thirtyone-year-old Metastasio was invited to be the “imperial poet” at the court of Vienna. As the Habsburgs’ official writer, he composed libretti and celebratory poems for the ruling family. Both the position and the role suited him perfectly, and he continued in them for the rest of his life. Metastasio had studied music in Naples, where there was an important school of melodrama.50 His libretti written in Vienna51 were set to music by excellent composers of that and the following epochs, including Domenico Sarro, Leonardo Vinci, Antonio Caldara, 48 Even if Pietro Metastasio was a writer and not a composer, the operas employing his libretti were once applauded across Europe. His works are usually given the label that is used in the title of the present chapter. 49 Gravina was Metastasio’s adoptive father. Under his eye, Metastasio wrote two historical dramas, Giustino and L’Italia liberata dai Goti. Mario Fubini, “Introduzione a Metastasio,” in Pietro Metastasio, Opere. Appendice, eds. Mario Fubini and Ettore Bonora (Milan–Naples: Ricciardi, 1968), 3. 50 Hellmuth Christian Wolf, “L’oratorio e la passione in Italia,” in Storia della musica. 5. Opera e musica sacra (1630–1750), eds. Anthony Lewis and Nigel Fortune (Milan: Garzanti, 1991), 384–92. 51 And also texts for sacred representations such as cantata and oratory.

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Johann Adolf Hasse, Antonio Vivaldi, Christoph Gluck, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Metastasio also wrote canzonettas, sonnets, stanze, and occasional poems celebrating moments of the lives of Austrian emperors, but this part of his poetic vein was weak, as Mario Fubini has shown.52 We also have his versions of a psalm, and a few religious hymns. Among Metastasio’s lyrical poems, the profane verses manifest certain litanic patterns. However, his sacred poetry does not present any litanic connection.

21.1  The Poetry Among the poems by Metastasio we find a collection of epithalamia,53 as for example, “Scendi propizia,” (“Descend, gracious”)54 written in double quatrains (a ballad-like form) of five-syllables. Let us examine the invocation to Venus (ll. 1–4): Scendi propizia col tuo splendore, o bella Venere, madre d’amore,

The invocation and the following line (“madre d’amore”55) constitute a chairetism modeled on the Marian litanies. In the sixty-line poem the first phrase is repeated two times, at the beginning and in the final part (ll. 55–56). The last quatrain also contains another attribute, even if within the stanza it is accompanied by a copulative predicate. Let us draw attention to the first and third lines (ll. 57–59): o   b e l l a   Ve n e r e , che sola sei piacer degli uomini e degli dei.

We are dealing with a profane prayer, addressed to the goddess of love. The poem takes advantage of the anaphoric pattern “per te” (“for you”) realized at the

52 Fubini, “Introduzione a Metastasio,” 3–24. 53 Together with the classical genesis of that form we emphasize its use by Jacopo Sannazaro, who became a model for the poets of the Roman Academy of Arcadia. 54 Metastasio, Opere. Appendice, 543–5. 55 Maternity is one of the most important attributes of the Virgin in both in the Akathist Hymn and in the Marian litanies. Here the concept is reinterpreted to suit the pagan goddess.

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beginning of five quatrains, which open as follows: “Per te si genera,” “Per te le tremule,” “Per te le timide,” “Per te abbandonano,” “Per te si spiegano” (“For you is generated,” “For you those tremulous,” “For you those timid,” “For you abandon,” “For you are deployed” ll. 13, 25, 37, 41, 45). Three of them reproduce the proparoxytone rhyme of the invocation included in the first stanza. In this poem we observe some litanic qualities and elements of the spiritual and vernacular tradition. The sound effect of the first invocation sets up a rhythmical recall, consisting of the proparoxytone five-syllable. This characteristic—without taking up the apostrophe—is repeated in a regular way in lines 9, 13, 17, 21, 25, 29, 33, 37, 41, 45, 49, and 57. This refers back to certain early laudas, in which sequences of stanzas were closed with Marian antonomasias56 expressed in words that had all a proparoxytone stress.57 In the analyzed epithalamium, the litanic influence is a complex phenomenon that originates from a general, rhetoric, and lexical reminiscence of prayers.58 The memory of concrete texts can be associated with the spiritual lauda. Metastasio’s poem mixes up these elements together with some metrical features related to the litany.59 Among Metastasio’s canzonette we find another poem composed of double quatrains, this time in seven-syllable lines, “La libertà (A Nice),” “Freedom (To Nice)”.60 The couplet closing the first stanza seems to promise a litanic anaphora (ll. 1–8): Grazie agl’inganni tuoi, al fin respiro, o Nice,

56 See a lauda analyzed in the first chapter of the present book, Rayna possentissima. I have analyzed another lauda of the same type, Ave, donna santissima from the Laudario di Cortona. Cf. Magdalena Maria Kubas, “Forme e legami litanici in alcune laude mariane del Duecento,” in Forme letterarie del Medioevo romanzo: testo, interpretazione e storia, eds. Antonio Pioletti and Stefano Rapisarda (Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino, 2016), 262–6. 57 In the Italian system the “verso sdrucciolo.” 58 At the level of semantic memory, as basic knowledge about the prayer in this case. In addition, Metastasio had a good knowledge of the culture of Roman liturgy and Christian prayer—this will become clear in the analysis of his Betulia liberata—which could operate as a source of both rhetorical devices and textual formulas in his works. 59 Other epithalamia by Metastasio manifest forms of anaphoric repetition, i.e. Epitalamio I (“Altri di Cadmo e dell’offeso Atride,” cf. ed. Bruno Brunelli, Tutte le opere di Pietro Metastasio (Milan: Mondadori, 1947), vol. 2, 785–812), written in one hundred stanzas of ottava rima, but this manner is not correlated with any organizing influence of the litany on the piece. 60 Metastasio, Opere. Appendice, 532–5.

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al fin d’un infelice ebber gli dei pietà: sento da’ lacci suoi, sento che l’alma è sciolta; non sogno questa volta, non sogno libertà.

The second quatrain presents two different onsets. Reading only one stanza it is difficult to determine whether the poem has a litanic character. We should consider that the litany implies emphasizing repetitiveness or even insistence. Analyzing all the correlated metrical positions, in the hundred-four-line poem we notice a general propensity to repeat expressions in the second of the double quatrains, especially in both third- and second-last lines, as is observable in lines 14–15, 38–39, and 62–63. Moreover, in lines 95–96 there is a sound reiteration (“nè”/“nel”) in the onset of the penultimate and last lines, while in lines 2–3, 43–44, and 75–76 the anaphora is placed in the middle lines of the first quatrain. Since for all the listed recurrences the repetition is not very regular and links up the apocopated rhyme,61 we are inclined to interpret the analyzed anaphoras as a residual form of refrain, related perhaps to the ballad of other popular forms (ll. 13–16): Non cangio più colore quando il tuo nome ascolto; quando ti miro in volto più non mi batte il cor.

The increased number of apocopated rhymes occurs in the middle parts of some quatrains, which do not present any anaphoric repetition,62 as in lines 18–19, 22–23, and 94–95. This feature seems to bear out our hypothesis about the persistence of traces of refrain.

61 The rhyme scheme is abbcaddc. The apocopated rhyme closing the stanzas is frequently used by Metastasio. Cf. Bausi, Martelli, La metrica italiana, 210–1. 62 In any case, this symmetry is not exact through the entire poem. It does not concern the fourth, seventh, ninth, or eleventh stanzas. In a second canzonetta for Nice en­ titled “Palinodia,”—a prequel to the poem we analyze here, which was written after its success—we find a few, brief and locally placed, litanic sequences that also conjure a remote memory of the early spiritual lauda, such as the anaphoric series “Tu, se con te m’aggiro, / tu, se ti lascio mai, / tu delirari mi fai, / di pena o di piacer.” Metastasio, Opere. Appendice, 535–9, lines 21–24. These references, in any case, do not constitute a coherent litanic system.

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An entire litanic stanza forms part of another, brief canzonetta of Metastasio, “È forza, mio core (A Nice),” “Move on, my heart (To Nice),”63 in which the introductory part gives way to an anaphoric repetition in the first of six six-line stanzas (“Scordarsi l’amore, / Scordarsi di Nice,” “Forget the love, / Forget Nice,” ll. 3–4). The litanic fragment sensu stricto occurs in the fourth stanza (ll. 19–24): Che provi quel nodo Ch’io provo nel seno, Che goda s’io godo, Che peni s’io peno, Che tutti divida Gli affetti con me.

The opening deprecatio introduces an insistent wish, which is expressed in a litanic manner, for reciprocated love. The subject expresses his desire for a perfect identification with the beloved. He wants her to rejoice when he rejoices, and suffer when he suffers. The subject desires what in terms of semantics would be pleonastic and what represents the only possible union with the woman. We notice also the amphibrachic pattern of stresses that, with few exceptions, prevail in the poem. The three-syllable scheme is observable in the opening of the first stanza of the poem. Due, among other reasons, to the series of monosyllabic words that cause the rhythm to wobble, it is loosened in the middle of the second and third stanza and reestablished in the fourth unit, which is quoted above. The final two stanzas are more precise in the arrangement of the stressed syllables, while in the opening couplet of the last stanza an anaphora strongly reverberates (“Chi avrebbe pensato, / Che in te si celasse,” ll. 31–32)—where it meets the particular pattern of stresses we can speak of a background litanic reminiscence present in some parts of the poem.

21.2  The Melodrama Among Metastasio’s “drammi per musica,”64 we have chosen two libretti that include a good number of figures of repetition. This feature characterizes certain arias from the selected operas, which are close to the poetical forms we analyze in this chapter. We do not examine here the dialogues, or the recitativo parts, 63 Brunelli, Tutte le opere di Pietro Metastasio, vol. 2, 782–3. 64 The “opera metastasiana,” cf. Luigi Ronga, “L’opera metastasiana,” XXI–II. Metastasio’s ideal was an opera in which the lyrical text prevails over the music. The evolution of the musical genre even during his life went toward an opposite solution, which triumphed in the subsequent century.

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which require separate remarks on the rhetorical devices used in the genres of theater.65 To begin with we have selected a group of arias in the form of canzonetta, which are rich in anaphoras. Before starting the analysis, we would like to point out that textually the arias are short forms of canzonetta composed mostly of two stanzas written in seven-syllable lines. The most common length is the four- or five-line stanza, but variants are allowed and widely practiced. The former can be extended up to six lines, the latter is often reduced to three or four lines. In Metastasio’s works the length of an entire aria is rarely more than ten lines, and the rhyme scheme is variable.

21.3 Singing in the Eighteenth Century: Words and Music in the Da Capo Aria Before analyzing the musical problems of the operas written on Metastasio’s libretti, we should briefly introduce the problem of the aria in his epoch, which for the dramatic works associating poetry with music is considered to have been a time when the former dominated the latter. The type of air we are going to examine in the following part of the present work is called the da capo aria (in Italian it is called aria col da capo). This style of writing and composing arias belongs to the musical culture of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, during which the da capo aria was in high regard. Then it declined quickly before the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the musical aspects of the opera began to prevail over the poetical. Thus, from both textual and musical point of view, the style of singing we know from the successful operas composed in the nineteenth century does not resemble that of the early stage of the evolution of the opera genre. In the case of the da capo aria, today we can speak only of a restoration of its performative aspects, as the scores do not render all the musical passages, which in the past were considered clear because they were governed by effective conventions of those times.66 Textually the da capo aria is composed of two stanzas. Musically, it is tripartite and intrinsically repetitive. As Martin Elste says, in the restored musical practice […] the da capo aria operates with a variety of modules, the biggest of which is the repeated section that gives the aria its name: the da capo. Repetition, therefore, is the

65 “I recitativi adottano l’endecasillabo sciolto o il metro madrigalesco libero; l’aria o arietta si serve dei più diversi schemi di canzonetta (o ode o anacreontica che dir si voglia) […].” Cf. Bausi Martelli, La metrica italiana, 229. 66 Martin Elste, “The Da Capo Aria in the Twentieth Century,” in L’aria col da capo. Musica e Storia, vol. XVI, 3(2008): 743–4.

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underlying pattern of music, and the global repetition of a whole section characterizes the morphological structure of the da capo aria.67

We should stress that musical repetition is different from textual. If we ask what the relation of the musical genre to the texts of the libretti is, we will see that the rules of the iteration are different in the two aspects of the arias. We will also see that this layout can hardly be modified by the litanic characteristics of the texts. From a dramatic point of view, the aria stops the action of the opera, favoring moments of reflection by the characters, their remarks on the situation, etc. During the eighteenth century it was common to believe, that the arias imitated the passions better than any other kind of expression.68 For the musical composition of the da capo arias, there is a series of rules which determine the relation of key, mood, and tempo between the three sections. There were—today some of them have been restored—standards of performance (reprise, embellishments, and cadenzas), which introduced variety into this quite simple and repetitive genre. For the rational eighteenth-century culture, the form of aria was almost a synonym of the gentleness of the living air. The air-aria was considered the closest to those natural conditions which allowed the rising of the sound.69 As we have mentioned, the aria col da capo is a tripartite form. In the operas, oratorios, and cantatas the first unit of the text is repeated after the second. Hence the structure of the stanzas, which in the poem is usually AB, in music becomes an ABA’ pattern.70 This increase of metrical units is not reflected in the textual part. In some early examples of the da capo arias the last line of the stanzas could be converted into a kind of musical refrain. All this leads us to examine first the poems, and then the relation between the textual and vocal repetitions. Some litanic features, which we find in the textual parts, will be reflected in the musical composition, while others will not. As the whole present study concerns the traces of the litany, which from the musical point of view is recited or sung in unison, in the present chapter we will take into account the melodic line of the arias and search for iterations (textual anaphoras reflected in the tunes), responsorial dialogues, and vocal realization of the enumerative parts of the poems. The instrumental parts often manifest repetitive patterns too, but in order to be fully

67 Ibid.: 747. 68 As wrote a Scottish Enlightenment philosopher Adam Smith. Cf. Paolo Gozza, “Storia musicale dell’aria,” in Paolo Gozza, L’aria col da capo: 530–1. 69 Ibid.: 522–3. 70 A’—because the repetition of the first stanza at the end of the aria includes slight musical variations.

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examined the phenomenon would require an extended study, which is beyond the scope of the present monograph. In the case of Metastasio, it should be said that our search for litanic qualities takes into account passages with more than two repetitions, for bipartition, or a kind of symmetry during the composition of the texts, is an intrinsic characteristic of Metastasio’s poetics, as was observed by Daniela Goldin: La tendenza alla bipartizione o piuttosto alla compensazione simmetrica e biunivoca produce, più che l’armonia dei testi metastasiani, un equilibro razionalistico illuminato degli elementi che li compongono e che si realizza, sul piano formale, nella citata regolarità ritmico-versale, nelle riprese lessicali, nelle simmetrie speculari, quale il chiasmo che a sua volta si accompagna all’anafora, nelle disgiunzioni a puro scopo amplificatorio, e così via.71

We find overemphasized Elisa Benzi’s opinion that even if the verbal repetition involves more than two lines, the syntactic order confirms the couplet as the principal compositional rule of stanzas.72 In fact, certain arias that we will analyze will be found to contradict this thesis.73

21.4  Metastasio’s Profane Arietta The first Metastasio opera, Siroe, was presented in 1726 in Venice during his Italian period, with the music composed by Leonardo Vinci. Subsequently the piece was set to different music by, for example, Domenico Sarro (1727), Antonio Vivaldi (1727), Johann Adolf Hasse (1733)74, and Georg Friedrich Händel (1728), the latter with the libretto readapted by Haym. We will discuss here the versions by Hasse and Händel, comparing the original libretto with the re-written version too. Introducing the opera it is worth starting from a definition given by Metastasio, who described his work as a “byzantine story.”75 The text is composed of 71 Daniela Goldin, “Per una morfologia dell’aria metastasiana,” in Metastasio e il mondo musicale, ed. Maria Teresa Muraro (Florence: Olschki, 1986), 20. 72 Elisa Benzi, Le forme dell’aria. Metrica, retorica e logica in Metastasio (Lucca: Pacini, 2005), 107–8. 73 Following Benzi’s opinion, the trice metrical-syntactic anaphora is rare in Metastasio’s arias. Ibid., 108. On the contrary, during our examination we find several examples of the triple anaphora. 74 In his operas the da capo aria is the bearing structure. From his early operas he uses the da capo aria in its variant dal segno. Cf. Raffaele Mellace, “Il Sassone al bivio. Johann Adolf Hasse e l’aria col da capo,” in L’aria col da capo: 571. 75 “la storia bizantina,” Pietro Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, ed. Gianfranca Lavezzi (Milan: BUR, 2005), 429.

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three acts. The characters include Cosroe (a Persian king), Siroe (his firstborn), Medarse (the second-born of the king), Emira (in male dress, in love with Siroe), Laodice (mistress of Siroe and sister of Arasse), and Arasse (general and Siroe’s friend). Starting from the second act we note sequences of anaphoras in several of the arias. Let us quote that of Siroe, the firstborn of the king (II, 3),76 who addresses his father through a repeated sound in the onset of lines 3–4 (“chi”/“che”) and a polysyndeton that occurs in the second stanza (ll. 5–9): Sei padre, son figlio; mi scaccia, mi sgrida: ma pensa al periglio, ma poco ti fida, ma impara a temer.

As we can see, the rule established in the onset is applied throughout the stanza.77 We should stress the importance of the onset in the practice of singing—it should be the most legible element of the lines and stanzas. Moreover, Benzi argues that the pathos is particularly intense in those passages in which Metastasio searches for discordance between metrical and syntactic articulation—for this purpose he uses the anaphora.78 Even if a double anaphora is present in the subsequent lyrical part, only in the fifth scene does an aria (II, 12) with a clearly litanic origin and gait appears. Corsoe’s two-stanza part numbers eight lines and begins as follows (ll. 1–4):79 Tu di pietà mi spogli, tu dèsti il mio furor; tu solo, o traditor, mi fai tiranno.

The king, through a series of complaints, blames his son. He reverses the roles arguing that it is Siroe, who makes him a despot. We remember that lists of attributes of the Blessed Virgin, in which the second-person singular was pointed out, were typical of medieval spiritual poetry. In the aria of Corsoe the same

76 Ibid., 434. 77 In Hasse’s musical version the anaphoras of the second stanza are even amplified (ll. 2–5), but without creating any musical-litanic effect. In Händel’s opera that part is used in order to create an effect of tension. Nor do we find here any interesting repetitions. 78 Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 128–9. 79 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 435–6.

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structure is in use.80 Another interesting point is the relationship between the older lauda, written in the ballad form, and the younger canzonetta. In the aria we are discussing here the anaphora is maintained as in some laudas, but any Christian sentiment on the part of the interlocutor is negated. Moreover, the attribute is exploited in the traditional, non-circumlocutive way only in the third of the quoted lines. There it is divided into two parts (“solo” and “traditor”). We should emphasize that the vocative “o,” placed in the middle of the third line, does not influence the metrical articulation (or calculation) of the apocopated seven-syllable, even though it can be vocally realized in an emphatic manner. The text and the music exploit different components, and this fact is reflected in the different litanic qualities they manifest.81 Let us make some remarks on the music of the quoted arias. Listening to “Tu di pietà mi spogli” set by Händel we do not find musical repetitions in the melody of the character of Corsoe, which in the opera is a baritone.82 As was typical in musical use, the first stanza of the aria is repeated. It is sung twice in the opening of the aria, and it comes back after the second stanza.83 There is no correspondence between the textual and musical anaphora in Händel’s aria. Neither does Hasse’s melodic line84 take up the textual anaphora. The penultimate line of the text is underlined through repetition, but this is typical of the closing of the first stanza in that musical practice. It is observable how the musical part

80 More than one example can be found in the analysis of the laudario from Cortona, see Part I Around the Lauda, Hymn and Spiritual Poetry. 81 We observe that the range of litanic features used in the aria–canzonetta is not the same as in the laudas. In the litanic parts of the lauda it fixed a rhythmical frame, and that is not the case in our aria. Moreover, in a clear manner the traditional litanic scheme, which describes persons or objects through a list of attributes, is used in one of Tito’s arias in the opera La clemenza di Tito (II, 11). The anaphora is here placed at the beginning of the sections. It reads as follows: “Tu, infedel, non hai difese; / è palese il tradimento: / io pavento d’oltraggiarti / nel chiamarti traditor. // Tu, crudel, tradir mi vuoi / d’amistà col finto velo; / io mi celo agli occhi tuoi / per pietà del tuo rossor.” Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 536. The phenomenon is briefly described together with the quoted text in Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 121. 82 The recording on CD is a performance by Brewer Baroque Orchestra, conducted by Rudolph Palmer, for Newport Classics. The recording dates from 1991. 83 The performance of the da capo aria is similar in Händel. In practice we have 1st stanza + 1st stanza + 2nd stanza + 1st stanza + 1st stanza of Metastasio’s text. In Hasse’s opera the aria scheme is the following 1st + 1st + 2nd + 1st + 1st stanza of the text. 84 The recording from 2015 was made by Harmonia Atenea with the conductor George Petrouu. Johann Adolf Hasse, Siroe (London: Decca, 2015).

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searches for both variatio and richness of arrangement. In Hesse’s opera even the musical refrain does not repeat with the same melody, while the last line can be repeated more than one time for each repetition of a stanza. We shall examine another melodrama written by Metastasio and set to music by Leonardo Vinci (1728), Antonio Vivaldi (1737), and Nicolò Piccinni (1770). In Catone in Utica we find several arias containing reiterative patterns. The topic is the struggle against tyranny, a fight for freedom.85 This Roman story tells about struggles led by Cato the Elder, an opponent of Caesar. Having lost his war, Cato commits suicide. Other characters of the drama include Marzia, the daughter of Cato, in love with Caesar; Arbace, prince of Numidia, in love with Marzia; Emilia, Pompey’s widow; and Fulvio, an ambassador, in love with Emilia. The drama was written in the late 1720s. Two versions of the third act were created by Metastasio: in the first the audience witnesses the death of Cato on the stage, while in the second the fact is reported by Marzia. The latter has an aria in the first act (I, 15), in which she describes, through a litanic list, the physical effects of being in love. Let us quote the entire ten-line poem:86 È follia se nascondete, fidi amanti, il vostro foco; a scoprir quel che tacete un pallor basta improvviso, un rossor che accenda il viso, uno sguardo ed un sospir. E se basta così poco a scoprir quel che si tace, perché perder la sua pace con ascondere il martìr?

An asymmetric scheme is observable, with a rhyme pattern abaccdbeed, which presents no repetitions within the poem. The central part (ll. 4–6) is occupied by a triple enumeration related to the necessity of achieving a highly rhythmic versification. In Vivaldi’s opera87 the melody of this aria underlines the presence of the anaphora. It is even more emphasized in the second repetition of the musical part A. Perhaps we can speak about a litanic pattern with reference to this vocal line, even if it is subject to a musical climax. Lines 4–5 link up the textual 85 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 441. 86 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 447. 87 A recording from 2002, performed by La grande ecurie et la chambre du roy orchestra in Genua. The conductor is Jean–Claude Malgoire.

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and musical repetition, while the third repetitive element of the text is slightly modified by the musical part of Vivaldi’s aria. At this precise point it closes the first textual stanza, but the litanic effect also depends on the musical construction. The two aspects are interrelated. Moreover, lines 4–5 are rhythmically more regular than the others, and they both manifest the same scheme in the onset, which includes a stress on the third syllable. In the repetition of this section we have a solo vocal passage for the singer, which exploits the iteration of the anaphoric segments together with the predicate “basta” which in the vocal practice is included ad hoc at the beginning of each line of the textual part. In Piccinni’s work the same strong relation between stanzaic lines 4 and 5 is emphasized, while the last of the three anaphoric lines contains a cadence as the musical part reaches its conclusion here. In the second act (II, 6) Marzia has another aria based on the anaphora. We read (ll. 1–4):88 In che ti offende, se l’alma spera, se amor l’accende, se odiar non sa?

This stanza is a remote echo of Petrarch’s Sonnet 132, even if the insistent asking of Petrarch is here transposed into a short, five-syllabic line. The remaining part of the fourteen-line canzonetta—its length is only a superficial similarity with the sonnet form89—does not manifest any iterative pattern. In Piccinni’s musical work Marzia’s aria amplifies the first stanza of the text in order to exalt the anaphora. In this arrangement each of the iterative lines is sung twice. The first musical section is repeated once or twice between all the following portions of the text as if it was a refrain. Here the anaphoric, textual nucleus is swelled by further repetitions in which its character of complaint is emphasized. It is remarkable that in the finale of the sung aria we do not find the first stanza of the text, but the last one, with its last line, “La libertà” (“Freedom”). In Leonardo Vinci’s version90 the textual anaphora is not exploited in a musical sense. Only the last line of the first textual stanza is repeated. Perhaps this last device could have been

88 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 448. 89 Metastasio’s arietta is divided into two four-line stanzas + one six-line final part. It presents the pattern abaxcdcxefeggx. The rhyme scheme is not that of the sonnet. 90 A recording from 2015 for Decca ed. performed by Pomo d’oro orchestra with Riccardo Minasi as conductor. Leonardo Vinci, Catone in Utica (London: Decca, 2015).

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in use in the time when the piece was composed.91 In the second repetition of the lines quoted, the melody is almost identical between lines 2 and 4. Anyway, no coherent effect of repetition is here built up. Instead, there is certain insistence on the second stanza of the aria, which does not include any anaphoric scheme. While in Piccinni’s opera both request and doubt are emphasized, in Vinci’s version it is the dream about happiness in love (“questa sognata / felicità”92) that is highlighted in the musical arrangement. A different type of repetition is offered in the second act. Once again we analyze one of Marzia’s arias (II, 14), but this time she has two interlocutors, Arbace and Emlia. Let us quote the entire text:93 So che godendo vai (ad Arbace) del duol che mi tormenta: ma lieto non sarai; ma non sarai contenta: (ad Emilia) voi penerete ancor. Nelle sventure estreme noi piangeremo insieme, Tu non avrai vendetta; (ad Emilia) tu non sperare amor. (ad Arbace)

As we can see, the anaphoras are correlated with dialogues addressed to the two different characters who accompany Marzia in this scene. Can such a repetition be related to the litanic modalities? The litany has a communicative partition and a subdivision of tasks—we remember that the responsorial character is one of the prerequisites of the genre. Moreover, the litany addresses one or more receivers. The passage analyzed here is a conversation, in which certain rhetorical devices appear that we have often defined as litanic. Metastasio’s text involves repetition through the first part of the seven-syllable line (in ll. 3–4 there is a chiasmus between the second and the third element of the sequence). Without the paratextual scene indication it is almost a litanic canzonetta. Nevertheless, the author points out the dialogue to draw our attention to different, pragmatic features of this scene.94 No response is included. Let us examine the musical solutions 91 Some scholars speak of a reprise. Cf. Anna Laura Bellina, “Ripresa e isometria a Venezia dal 1680 al 1690,” L’aria col da capo: 533–48. 92 Lines 7–8. 93 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 450. 94 Considering references to Metastasio’s works in nineteenth-century libretti, Luca Serianni points out the pragmatic values of certain dialogues, which can be either requests for effective answers or phatic formulas. He does not consider the possible religious roots

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adopted for the vocal lines of the melodrama. In Vinci’s aria line 5, addressed to both Emilia and Arbace, is repeated trice. Although this reinforces the musical effect of anaphora, it does not present a strong correlation with textual lines 3–4. At the same time, the melody of the sung part for the corresponding double anaphora is identical in the opening four syllables. In the second section, when the textual lines 8–9 are introduced for the first time, the melody is repeated. Then line 9 is repeated twice more, following the usual musical practice of amplifying the closing parts of the sections. In the third act of Catone in Utica we will look at an aria by Caesar, “Quell’amor che poco accende,”95 (III, 4) in which a similar double anaphoric repetition is exploited at the end of the first and the second stanza of the text (ll.1–8): Quell’amor che poco accende alimenta un cor gentile,96 come l’erbe il nuovo aprile, come i fiori il primo albor. Se tiranno poi si rende, la ragion ne sente oltraggio, come l’erba al caldo raggio, come al gelo esposto il fior.

The elements used to construct the topic, together with the repetition (the conjunction, the two nouns referring to grass and flowers, and the oppositions built in the remaining part of the verse), are here reiterated in a subtle way, through a chiasmus and the grammatical number which is modified twice. The mutations help to maintain the rhythmic pattern, which in the anaphoric lines is trochaic. In Leonardo Vinci’s Catone in Utica, the part of Caesar (a countertenor voice) is rich in vocal ornament. Listening to the aria, we observe that in the first section the anaphora is stressed by a redoubled, large, and airy melody scheme that presents a progression of intervals of a second before arriving at line 4. We observe then that the rhythm of the vocal line is exactly the same. This aspect works well in the second section, too. Line 4 is finally repeated as a cadence. The progression of the tune could be motivated with slight variations in the textual part of the lines. It does not seem a strictly litanic technique, but the relation between text and music is strong. Even if we should speak about modulations in the melodic of some dialogues, in which the communicative scheme is slightly different. Cf. Luca Serianni, “Libretti verdiani: quel che resta di Metastasio,” in Storia della lingua italiana e storia delle musica, ed. Elisa Tonani (Firenze: Franco Cesati Editore, 2005), 100. 95 Metastasio, Melodrammi e canzonette, 452. 96 A quotation from thirteenth-century love poetry.

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part which is partially free—while that rhythmic is repeated in an exact manner—it exalts and adds value to the textual anaphora. In the repetitions present throughout the musical sections, the structure of the vocal line and the relations between the anaphoric parts are strong both in both text and music. In conclusion, in the analyzed arias the reiterative fragments of the poems are sometimes used as a basis for the musical repetitions. Especially the anaphora, which has the function of increasing the pathos,97 is a frequent target of this kind of melodic operation. Metastasio certainly considered that in musical practice the last lines of the arias would be emphasized through repetition. This could be related to what Benzi defined as a “un innalzamento del grado di intensità emotive” (“a raising of the degree of emotive intensity”)98 in the closing part of the textual stanzas. This use amplifies, of course, each existing textual repetition, but a rule of the musical genre should not be confused with litanic potential, which in the arias is not very high. Nevertheless, we can find examples in which the music follows the litanic suggestion of the texts through a repetition of either melody or rhythm.

21.5  Betulia Liberata As we have said, in 1729 Pietro Metastasio replaced Apostolo Zeno as the “imperial poet” in Vienna, where he remained for more than fifty years. In that period he wrote several dramas for music. Betulia liberata, defined paratextually as an “azione sacra,” was written in 1734. Soon the text was set to music by the greatest composers of the epoch, such as Nicolò Jommelli and Johann Georg Reutter the Younger. The best known musical setting of that libretto d’oratorio was written more than three decades later by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Among Metastasio’s works, Betulia liberata (Liberation of Bethulia) is one of the most complex texts for music on a sacred subject, and is characterized by a high dramatic and visual intensity.99 The story is based on the biblical account in the Book of Judith: Bethulia, an Israelite town, is under siege by the Assyrians, led by their terrifying general, Holofernes. At the head of the Israelites there is Ozìa. Metastasio’s story begins when the leaders discuss the possibility of giving up the town to the enemy. It is God who should punish the wicked. Judith is a widow, known 97 Cf. Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 127–9. 98 Ibid., 117. 99 Giovanna Gronda, “La “Betulia liberata” e la tradizione viennese dei componimenti sacri,” in Mozart, Padova e la Betulia Liberata, ed. Paolo Pinamonti (Florence: Olschki, 1991), 27.

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for her beauty and respectability. She joins the discussion as a lonely voice; she is the only who is going to act. The protagonists are individuals, such as Ozìa, a military-spiritual leader,100 Amital, a noblewoman, and Achior, the prince of Ammonites who joins the bethulians because he had been banished from the camp of Holofernes. There are then Cabri and Carmi, two chiefs who speak on behalf of a group, or the people, and finally the chorus of Bethulians. If we consider dividing the characters according to their capacity to act, the heroism of Judith is opposed to the reflection and spiritual debate of the other figures. It is known that Metastasio had carefully studied the Book of Judith before composing his azione sacra.101 In our perspective, it seems interesting that the text of Betulia liberata includes references to prayer and liturgy, and others elements of religious discourse. Which of them can be investigated from these perspectives? In Betulia liberata we can first isolate invocations and anaphoras. Often these elements are a reminiscence of the Christian liturgy, prayer (including the litany), and spiritual poetry. We will analyze the textual parts, and then we will interpret certain repetitive passages that are present in the melodic aspect of the ariette and recitativi in order to understand the possibility of their litanic associations.

21.6 The Azione Sacra Our analysis of Betulia liberata focuses primarily on the ariette that are composed in the short meter, namely the seven-syllable, which can be mixed sometimes with the five-syllable.102 Then we will collect examples of longer meters, those of the dialogues and recitativi. Prayer and liturgy support different moments of the azione sacra, and characterize some dramatis personae and their inclination to reflect instead of act.103 100 Cf. Paolo Pinamonti, “ “Il ver si cerchi, / non la vittoria” Implicazioni filosofiche nel testo della Betulia liberata,” in Mozart, Padova e la Betulia Liberata, 73–86. 101 The comments to the contemporary editions of Betulia liberata list all the references to the biblical text. 102 Metastasio employed the seven-syllable as the principal measure of verse for the arias. Before him, the prevailing meter had been the octosyllable, which can be found, for example, in Apostolo Zeno’s pieces. It is theorized in the major metrical treatises of that times. In Metastasio we have only odd meters in the ariette (seven- or fivesyllables), while longer meters, including the hendecasyllable, are used only in the recitativi. Cf. Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 17–24. 103 For this kind of discursive characteristic of the protagonists, see my “Liturgia, preghie­ra e lauda spirituale nel libretto di Betulia liberata,” Studi sul Settecento e l’Ottocento, Studi sul Settecento e l’Ottocento, XII (2017a): 93–101.

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To begin with the most direct reference, we quote a prayer of Ozìa which is the most emblematic section of our text for its liturgical-litanic references.104 This four-line stanza is repeated thrice in the first part of Betulia liberata:105 Ozìa: Coro:

Pietà, se irato sei, Pietà, Signor, di noi: Abbian castigo i rei, Ma l’abbiano da te. Abbian castigo i rei, Ma l’abbiano da te.106

As we can observe, the final couplet of the stanza is repeated by the chorus. The commentary to the consulted edition of Metastasio’s works links this passage with a conversation between Judith and Ozìa, as it is reported in the Book of Judith. From our point of view, the quoted stanza, together with the response of the chorus, presents the structure of a prayer, which opens with an invocation to God. In the stanza here discussed Ozìa is an officiant who leads the community of Bethulians, or the chorus: the roles are clear thanks to the responsorial couplet assigned to the latter. There is also a lexical link, a reminiscence of the “Kyrie eleison / Christe eleison / Kyrie eleison,” which is part of the liturgy and of each litanic prayer. We observe then a particular scheme of stressed syllables in the opening two lines which is binary (second, fourth, and sixth unity in an apocopated seven-syllable). Now, it is acknowledged that Metastasio’s regular seven-syllable avoids the stress on the third syllable,107 but in these lines the metrical articulation of the prayer is stressed through a reiteration of sound. The structure of this fragment is responsorial: there is a part intoned by a priest to which the faithful respond cyclically. This rule is immediately confirmed once again: Ozìa:

Se oppresso chi t’adora Soffri da chi t’ignora, Gli empi diranno poi: Questo lor Dio dov’è?

104 For the link between the litany and the liturgy, cf. Josef Andreas Jungmann, Missarum Sollemnia (Milan: Ancora, 2004), 273–83. 105 The text of Betulia liberata is divided into two parts. 106 Pietro Metastasio, Tutte le opere, vol. II (Milan: Mondadori, 1943), 633. 107 Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 20–1. One should remember that the seven-syllable has a free scheme of stresses, and the only unity that avoids this meter is the fifth; cf. Pietro G. Beltrami, La metrica italiana (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2011), 198–9, so the attempts to give to the meter a regular scan contain relevant information.

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Coro:

Gli empi diranno poi: Questo lor Dio dov’è?108

Following the division of the text attained thanks to the responsorial technique, Ozìa is not only a military leader, but also a spiritual one. The liturgicallitanic responses allow the poet to make plain a semantic quality implied in this character. In the second part of Betulia liberata Amital also calls “Pietà, Signor, Pietà” (“Mercy, oh Lord, Mercy”).109 The invocation is short here, but it creates a strong, rhythmically marked effect (Pie-t à-Si-g n o r-Pie-t à) among the seven-syllables of her aria.110 At the same time Amital does not begin a prayer, as the words of Ozìa had done. In Betulia liberata the latter remains the only officiant, while Amital is merely a counselor. In Betulia liberata we find also some other types of features, such as lists of attributes and antonomasias, that refer directly or indirectly to the litanies. A relevant passage can be found in an aria of Achior. In the second part of Betulia liberata, the prince of the Ammonites has a long theological discussion with Ozìa. The subject is the possibility of accepting the existence of one, perfect God, a phenomenon which is unconceivable for Achior, who comes from a polytheistic people. Nevertheless, after the head of Holofernes has been brought by Judith to Bethulia, Achior believes that a unique, powerful God can save his people: Te solo adoro, Mente infinita, Fonte di vita, Di verità;111

The converted Ammonite venerates the God of the Israelites through litanic attributes, which are placed in the two internal lines of the quoted stanza. This part is supported by a rhyme (the scheme of the stanza is abba). The link with the litany is supported by some direct reference to the vernacular tradition of prayer.112 108 Metastasio, Tutte le opere, 633. 109 Ibid., 649. We find here the same pattern of stresses we have seen in Ozìa’s liturgical prayer. 110 See my “Liturgia, preghiera e lauda spirituale nel libretto di Betulia liberata.” 111 Metastasio, Tutte le opere, 648. 112 “Fonte di” or “Spring of ” + abstract noun is used in the first litanies to the Virgin, such as Letania Beatae Mariae Virginis; see the version published in Alessio Persic, “Le litanie mariane ‘aquileiesi’ secondo le recensioni manoscritte friulane, a confronto con la tradizione comune,” in Theotokos, 12(2004): 371, 373, 374. The Blessed Virgin is here described as a spring of knowledge, sweetness, and mercy.

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Let us observe that the structure of the litanic attribute is used in other parts of Betulia liberata. It is set in as a syntactic apposition, and can be found for example in an arietta of Achior in the first part of the work. Let us read two stanzas which contain a description of the terrifying Holofernes: Terribile d’aspetto, Barbaro di costumi, O conta sé fra’ numi O nume alcun non ha. Fasto, furor, dispetto Sempre dagli occhi spira; E quanto è pronto all’ira, È tardo alla pietà.113

Even if praise constitutes the nature of the litanic attributes, these stanzas present a negative impression of Holofernes which is achieved by reversing the laudatory pattern. As a result of this catalog of features the Jews will fear their enemy a fortiori. The opening couplet is accompanied by a double anaphora, and an enumeration of the threats that are in Holofernes’ eyes. While in the first stanza we find two litanic devices, the anaphora and the list, the second one starts with a list. In the first one the litanic structures compose entire lines. In the opening of the second stanza a litanic enumeration is metrically compressed in one line. In the final line, the idea of Christian mercy is remembered once again, linking this part with the prayer of Ozìa. Anaphoric-litanic verse marks the first stanza of another arietta. Such a connotation of the text is amplified in performance, as it is repeated following the practice of singing da capo. The arietta belongs to Amital, who warns Ozìa: N o n   hai cor, se in mezzo a questi Miserabili lamenti N o n   t i   s c u o t i,  n o n   t i   d e s t i, N o n   t i   s e n t i   i n t e n e r i r. Quanto, oh Dio, siamo infelici Se sapessero i nemici, Anche a lor di pianto il ciglio Si vedrebbe inumidir.114

The metaphor of the spring can be also found in the lauda form. In the fourteenth century, in Petrarch, Jesus and Laura are described as “fonte di pietà.” 113 Pietro Metastasio, Tutte le opere, 638. 114 Ibid., 631.

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The two-stanza passage is the culmination of a long discourse by Amital, who hopes to save the bethulians’ lives by convincing their leader to give up. The anaphora is introduced and then enriched in repetitive elements that disclose the litanic nature of the stanza in a prayer-like climax.115 It is necessary to stress once again that Amital’s prayer never has a responsorial character. As has been mentioned, litanic features characterize not only the ariette, which represent the shorter meters, but certain parts of the recitativo of Betulia liberata as well. In the finale of the azione sacra we witness a laudatory speech in honor of Judith, the heroine of Israel, made by Amital, Cabri, and Achior: [Ozìa Premio a Giuditta.] Amital: O   g e n e r o s a   d o n n a, Te sopra ogni altra Iddio Favorì, benedisse. Cabri: In ogni etade Del tuo valor si parlerà. Achior: Tu sei L a   g i o i a   d ’ I s r a e l e, L’o n o r   d e l   p o p o l   t u o …116

Litanic expressions realized through attributes and antonomasias are here created in order to praise Judith. These expressions recall some Old Testament and Marian phrases of praise. Another dialogue between Amital and Cabri, which expresses the exhaustion of the bethulians, manifests a typically anaphoric verse: Amital: Cabri:

Nella difesa forse Di nostre schiere indebolite e sceme D a l l ’a s s i d u a   f a t i c a? estenuate D a l l o   s c a r s o   a l i m e n t o? intimorite D a l   p i a n t o   u n i v e r s a l?  Fidar possiamo N e ’   v i c i n i   già vinti? N e g l i   a m i c i  impotenti? i n   D i o  sdegnato? Scorri per ogni lato La misera città; non troverai Che oggetti di terror. Gli ordini usati Son negletti o confusi. Altri s’adira C o n t r o   il Ciel,  c o n t r o   te; piangendo accusa Altri le proprie colpe antiche e nuove; C h i   c o r r e,  e non sa dove; C h i   g e m e,  e non favella; e lo spavento

115 As we remember, Amital can pray, but she does not lead the prayer. 116 Pietro Metastasio, Tutte le opere, 651.

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Come in arida selva appresa fiamma […] C h i   o s t e n t a   ancor qualche fermezza in viso.117

Both Amital and Cabri introduce elements of litanic versification constructed on the basis of two grammatical components, prepositions and interrogative pronouns, creating four anaphoric orders. One of these offers an additional parallelism with the part of Amital, in which the insisting, litanic pleading is explicit. At another point of the azione sacra, in a dialogue between Ozìa and Achior, an interesting anaphora appears. As we are dealing with a moment of theological debate between the Jew and the Ammonite, who does not recognize a unique God, the litanic anaphora adds a sacred element to the discussion. The second part of Betulia liberata begins with the above-mentioned dialogue on the possibility or necessity of monotheistic belief—this scene, together with Judith’s account of the night at Holofernes’ camp, occupies the entire second part of the work. Let us read a part of the dialogue: Ozìa: S’e g l i  capisse Nel nostro immaginar, Dio non sarebbe. Chi potrà figurarlo?  E g l i  di p a r t i , C o m e   il corpo, non consta;  e g l i  in a f f e t t i , C o m e   l’anime nostre, N o n è distinto; e i   non soggiace a forma, C o m e   tutto il creato; e se gli assegni P a r t i,  a f f e t t i,  f i g u r a,  il circonscrivi, Perfezion gli togli. E quando il chiami Achior: Tu stesso e buono e grande, Nol circonscrivi allor? No; buono il credo, Ozìa: M a   s e n z a   qualità; grande,  m a   s e n z a Quantità, né misura; ognor presente, S e n z a   sito o confine; e se in tal guisa Qual sia non spiego; almen di lui non formo Un’idea che l’oltraggi.118

In his argumentation, Ozìa introduces repetitive fragments in the form of both metrical and syntactic anaphora. The most important conceptual elements of the opening part are placed in the epiphoric position and then are condensed in the

117 Ibid., 629. 118 Ibid., 642.

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second-to-last line of Ozia’s discourse, which can be interpreted as a list of attributes ascribable to God. The metrical anaphora opening with “come” emphasizes shorter parts of the hendecasyllabic lines, which comprise the seven-syllables. This situation is not unusual in Italian versification, in which caesura is placed after the sixth-syllable stress of the a maiore hendecasyllable. What is worth noting is the regular articulation of our anaphoric hemistichs with the first, third, and sixth syllables stressed. This pattern brings the recitativo closer to the form of the arias. A similar conclusion can be drawn from the answer of Ozìa, in which the anaphora and epiphora “Ma senza,” “senza” (“But without,” “without”) shapes seven-syllable phrases. The finale of Betulia liberata opens with a monologue by Judith, who tells what happened during the night in which she decapitated Holofernes: Giuditta: Sotto la man che il sostenea. Q u e l   v o l t o A un tratto scolorir; mute parole Q u e l   l a b b r o  articolar; q u e g l i   o c c h i  intorno Cercar del sole i rai, Morire e minacciar vidi, e tremai.119

The character of this fragment is linked to the description of Holofernes given previously by Achior, in which a negative litanic description is constructed. Here an anaphoric-syntactic structure supports the list of terrible attributes of the face of the Assyrian enemy. This recitativo marks the moment of greatest tension in the libretto—when Judith seizes the head of Holofernes, she suddenly feels fear. As for the previous lines, the hendecasyllable is here articulated in shorter parts by the litanic anaphora. At this point we have no seven-syllable lines, but incisive, three-syllable fragments that scan the tone of Judith’s fear. In conclusion, we observe that some scholars speak about a “selection” made by Metastasio, “sifting the language inherited from the lyrical and dramatic Italian tradition.”120 We can see that relevant loanwords and schemes come from religious discourse. The Roman rite is one of the sources, while prayer, especially litanic prayer, is perhaps more important as a rhetorical pattern. The circumlocutive character of certain arias that take the form of canzonettas is inspired by intense use of litanic attributes. This also occurs in the dialogues and narrative parts which represent longer meters. We note that the litanic qualities that enter the passages of Betulia liberata that we have examined here lead to the separation

119 Ibid., 647. 120 Chiara Agostinelli, Sul lessico amoroso dei melodrammi metastasiani: 235.

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of the anaphoric and enumerative qualities. In other words, praising lines are not blended with the anaphoric versification.

21.7 Mozart’s La Betulia Liberata We will here exemplify briefly the problem of da capo arias using as an example the oratorio La Betulia liberata composed in 1771 by the fifteen-year-old Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The music of what has remained Mozart’s only complete oratorio was commissioned during the trip to Italy taken with his father Leopold.121 This means that Metastasio’s azione sacra was read and well known more than thirty years after its composition. It seems interesting, at the same time, that Mozart’s piece was not performed at the patron’s house during the following Lent, for which is thought to have been composed.122 Some of the tunes of Mozarts’ ariette and fragments of recitativi that will be analyzed here contain melodic repetitions. We remember that the traditional litanies develop their musical structure in a collective, monophonic vocal line, in which the responsorial technique of singing is exploited. We are convinced that the contemporary framework for the vocal recitation of the litanies is not too distant from the medieval one. In the history of music, and especially after litanies became an official prayer of the Catholic Church, many composers gave a rich musical setting to that form. Mozart himself wrote two great vocal-instrumental works on this topic. One of them, the Litaniae Lauretanae Beatae Mariae Virginis KV 109, was born in the same year as our oratorio.123 Moreover, Mozart worked on the choral Kyrie in d minor KV 90 between his first and second trips to Italy.124 As we can see, the oratorio was therefore composed in a period of intense work

121 In March 1771. 122 Cf. Stanley Sadie, “Mozart’s ‘Betulia liberata’.” The Musical Times, vol. 109, 1509(1968): 1015. 123 We mean Litaniae Lauretanae Beatae Mariae Virginis KV 109. Cf. Edward Olleson, “L’oratorio nell’Europa cattolica” and “Mozart,” in Storia della musica. L’età dell’Illuminismo (1745–1790), eds. Egon Wellesz and Frederick Sternfeld, (Milan: Garzanti, 1991), 343–6; 364–6. Mozart composed vocal-instrumental litanies offering a musical arrangement for some important moments for the spiritual life of the inhabitants of the diocese of Salzburg. His litanies do not share formal characteristics with the oratorio we have analyzed in this chapter, yet the mentioned work is close in time to La Betulia liberata. 124 Cf. Storia della musica, 346–7. In the urtext it is a composition for voices with accompaniment.

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on religious music. Congruent interests—imposed in great part by his clients and employer of the time—also affected this group of Mozart’s works. We will now briefly analyze the relation of the textual, litanic, and liturgical repetitions with the singing of the da capo arias. Let us start with the responsorial stanza of the oratorio, “Pietà, se irato sei,”125 in which the voice of Ozìa, the military leader and officiant, opposes the force of the entire choir. In comparison with the previous part of the oratorio, in this aria the mood and the tone change, while the configuration of the single voice confronting the choir perhaps imitates that of the liturgical prayer. In the first section, the sung part stops in two moments for a brief instrumental insert, in the part of both Ozìa and the choir, and this occurs shortly before the request for punishment of the enemies. We do not find specific characteristics referable to the litany in these inserts. In fact, the melodic repetitions of Ozìa belong rather to the practice of the da capo aria. Then the choir takes up to the supplication, but there is no repetition in this first responsorial part sung by the choir. Instead Mozart seems to embrace the textual aim of establishing here a fragment of liturgy. With the return of Ozìa’s first section—following the rules of da capo singing—the choir repeats the whole section and then comes back one more time with its last two lines, exploiting the repetition of the single voice. We observe that the musical elements of the responsorial technique emerge in this aria. Even if the melodic memory of Mozart’s oratorio recalls rather the tradition of great vocal-instrumental masses of his recent times, we find the analyzed part more plain and constant, closer to the ordinary liturgical chant. As for the musical association with the Litaniae Lauretanae Beatae Mariae Virginis, only the opposition choir/single voice can be an effective structural link. Between Ozìa’s da capo aria and the litany there are several differences, which concern most of all of their character and style. In Achior’s arietta “Terribile d’aspetto,” (“Of a frightful looks”) we find an interesting feature in the couplet that opens the first stanza. It is repeated twice and followed by a very short orchestral interruption which musically separates it from the polysyndeton that closes the stanza. Even if the said interruption adds a stylistic mark to the litanic couplet of the text, the other musical features do not present a close relation to what we consider to be a vocal correspondence with litanic anaphora. “Non hai cor” (“You have no heart”) is an aria of Amital. Its anaphoric parts are placed in the first, third, and fourth lines of the text. In this case Mozart’s vocal line follows very well the syntactic tendency. Starting from

125 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Collected Works, vol. 7: Sacred Works, No. 16–17 (The Netherlands: Brilliant Classics, 2005). Conductor, Peter Maag.

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the first musical phrase of the aria this correspondence emphasizes the litanic anaphora of the libretto. In the immediate repetition of the whole stanza this trend is even intensified; the voice repeats only the first part of the third line and then goes to the fourth. Immediately following this the second part of the third line is repeated together with the fourth. This could recall a typical litanic rule, according to which some parts (attributes, names of saints) are taken up to be rearranged in a partially free order, related to the general laws of the genre.

21.8 Conclusions Concluding our analysis of the oratorio we may add that as far as the recitativi are concerned, the practice of singing is more codified and subjected to more restrictive laws, so there is little space in which to exploit litanic possibilities that are implied in the libretto. Nonetheless, we observe a strongly dialogic nature of the last recitativo, in which Judith is praised.126 It recalls a collective prayer, even if it is not a prayer led by an officiant, but a fragment in which a responsorial dialogue is guided by Judith, whose prayer cannot be associated with either the liturgy or the litany in an extra-liturgical context.127 From a general point of view, the music of Mozart’s oratorio includes fewer litanic connotations than the text written by Metastasio. Concluding our short analysis of the relation between the music and the text we can say that the persistence of, or the interest in, litanic features such as anaphoras, antonomasias, and invocations is not necessarily correlative with the religious argument of a musical drama. As we have observed in poetry, the canzonetta explores the model of the Marian attributes in order to built up concise descriptions of women. Yet in Metastasio’s Betulia liberata male characters too are outlined using this device. Looking for the litanic traces in the singing of the da capo arias we conclude that the rule of repetition concerning the sections does not favor the musical imitation of the anaphoric textual features, especially when they occur between sections and not within one section of an air. Other textual litanic traits are more supported in the musical stratum of operas and other genres of sacred music. The seventeenth-century canzonetta accepts the litanic heritage of both popular and spiritual poetry. While important formal innovations are realized, the repetitiveness is clearly inspired by both the highbrow tradition represented by 126 See the quoted textual fragment, starting from “Premio a Giuditta.” 127 Starting from the discursive characteristics of the protagonists. See my “Liturgia, preghiera e lauda spirituale nel libretto di Betulia liberata.”

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Petrarch, and the popular roots of the genre of canzonetta, related to forms including a refrain. We observe a general lack of strong litanic discourse in eighteenth-century Italian poetry. Only in the last decade of the century do the poets newly reach for short and repetitive lyrical forms, which favor litanic connotations. At the same time, in Metastasio’s body of verse, the structuring potential of the litanic elements is high. Certain litanic qualities survive well in his libretti. Elisa Benzi sees a structuring role in the figures of repetition128 in the texts of some arias. She speaks about “a refined stylization of rhetorical devices” thanks to which the rhythmic value prevails over the syntactic.129 They originate from partially genetic relations. We think about the common origin of both canzonetta—the textual basis of the arias—and ballad. The connection with the elegant love poetry is relevant too.130 The litanic characteristics of arias-canzonettas seem clear, but the musical connections do not always support these aspects in the musical stratum of the operas.

128 For example for Catone in Utica (II, 14). Cf. Benzi, Le forme dell’aria, 124–5. Benzi speaks also about the attempts at compacting the structure of the da capo aria, ibid., 126. 129 “una raffinata stilizzazione degli strumenti retorici,” ibid, 134. 130 Chiara Agostinelli, “Sul lessico amoroso dei melodrammi metastasiani,” Studi lingui­stici italiani, vol. XX, 2(1994): 238.

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22 Towards the Risorgimento The nineteenth century opened in Italy without a great poetic revolution. Although in Milan the spirit of Romanticism spread as it had all across Europe, in other cultural centers it met strong opposition. The modern spirit arrived in the Italian poetry without loud clamor. Few poets defined themselves as romantic artists—at the end of the twentieth century more historians spoke about a moderate or unaccomplished Romanticism in Italian literature131—but many of them practiced romantic poetics, at least to some extent, or at certain periods of their life. In fact, during the first decades of the century we can find in Italian poetry many typically romantic forms and topics.132 At the same time, there is a tendency that perpetuates or reinvents the Enlightenment. It is true that the writers of the early nineteenth century laid the foundations for the awakening of the national spirit, even if the problem was not totally undiscussed in the previous epochs. This became crucial during the central decades of the century, at a time of patriotic ardor, of political movements that consolidated the national identity of Italy, of rebellions and wars for a united, independent state. One might object that the unity of a nation can be achieved through language, but at that time a common culture, including literature, had existed for over five centuries, while political unification at the beginning of the century could seem to be a complete mirage. In those years Giacomo Leopardi wrote his ode “All’Italia,” in which he declared his inability to see the glory of a single nation.133 In fact, the basis for 131 An opinion shared by the twentieth-century scholars. To understand the early Italian perspective on the Romantic trends, see Alessandro Manzoni’s letter about Romanticism written in 1823. Alessandro Manzoni, Sul romanticismo. Lettera al marchese Cesare d’Azeglio, ed. Massimo Castoldi (Milan: Centro Nazionale Studi Manzoniani, 2008), 3–57. Cf. also Pietro Gibellini, “Romantico per ragione e per fede,” ibid., XI– XXV. 132 The journal Conciliatore was the organ of the romantic thinkers and writers of Milan. Together with the Lombard writers (Pellico, Berchet, Breme, or Grossi), we mention only one interesting name from another cultural center, that of the Venetian Luigi Correr. See also interesting considerations included in Giacomo Leopardi, Discorso di un italiano intorno alla poesia romantica, ed. Rosita Copioli (Milan: BUR, 1997). 133 Giacomo Leopardi, “All’Italia:” “O patria mia, vedo le mura e gli archi / E le colonne e i simulacri e l’erme / Torri degli avi nostri, / Ma la gloria non vedo, / Non vedo il lauro e il ferro ond’eran carchi / I nostri padri antichi. Or fatta inerme, / Nuda la fronte e nudo il petto mostri. / Oimè quante ferite, / Che lividor, che sangue! oh qual ti veggio, / Formosissima donna!” (ll. 1–10). Note the invocation to the homeland

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patriotic poetry, which became the principal trend in the middle decades of the century, was laid in those first decades, starting with poets as Manzoni and Leopardi. The wars and the expeditions of the patriots, among whom there were always several poets—usually not great writers, but devoted to the cause—left an interesting body of verse. Many of these texts are today almost forgotten. The recent sesquicentennial of unification134 helped to draw renewed attention to certain poets, but most of them remain in the shadows, even if fragments of their poems inhabit the collective memory of the Italians, who often do not know the authors or exact period when some popular, patriotic lyrics were created. In fact Italian poetry during the Risorgimento turned consistently toward popular forms and

and the final antonomasia, which derives from the Bible, put in the position of a typical litanic anaphora. In Leopardi’s works we find no regular litanic features, but it is possible to find random, short references. In the form of canzone Leopardi puts his considerations about the situation of Italy in the early nineteenth century. Italy is not only a beautiful woman—in the invocation “she” becomes a venerated goddess. In addition to the said antonomasia, the young poet uses anaphoric lines in order to insist on some ideas, as in the examples that follow: “Che fosti donna, or sei povera ancella. / Chi di te parla o scrive, / Che, rimembrando il tuo passato vanto, / Non dica: già fu grande, or non è quella? / […] / Chi ti discinse il brando? / Chi ti tradì?” (ll. 24–27; 30–31); “Nessun pugna per te? non ti difende / Nessun de’ tuoi? L’armi, qua l’armi: io solo / Combatterò, procomberò sol io.” (ll. 36–38). Another canzone, which includes a subtle litanic echo with some anaphora, was written almost two decades later. As “All’Italia” it presents litanic qualities in the opening and closing parts. “Sopra il ritratto di una bella donna scolpito nel monumento sepolcrale della medesima” is praise of a dead beauty with the presence of a syntactic anaphora, which introduces a parallel, versificatory gait in the blank-verse canzone that does not present any fixed syllabic scheme: “Sta, di memoria solo / E di dolor custode, il simulacro / Della scorsa beltà. Quel dolce sguardo, / Che tremar fe, se, come or sembra, immoto / In altrui s’affisò; quel labbro, ond’alto / Par, come d’urna piena, / Traboccare il piacer; quel collo, cinto / Già di desio; quell’amorosa mano, / Che spesso, ove fu porta, / Sentì gelida far la man che strinse;” (ll 5.14); “Natura umana, or come, / Se frale in tutto e vile, / Se polve ed ombra sei, tant’alto senti? / Se in parte anco gentile, / Come i più degni tuoi moti e pensieri / Son così di leggeri / Da sì basse cagioni e desti e spenti?” (ll. 50–56). While in the first stanza we find an anaphoriclitanic interference with the regular versification, in the final part anaphoric verse plays a leading role. Cf. Giacomo Leopardi, Canti, eds. Niccolò Gallo and Cesare Garboli (Turin: Einaudi, 1980), 5–10; 249–52. 134 In 2011 Italy celebrated the one hundred fiftieth anniversary of national unification.

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the canzonetta.135 This makes more difficult research into litanic forms, as these traditional genres present repetitive patterns in their popular substratum, which should be kept separate from religious or litanic references that in our study follow literary models. The unification of Italy into a kingdom (1861) ended a period of struggle and sorrows that had become central in poetic writing. The following epoch saw changes in both topics and forms, and focusing lyrical priorities on the crisis of artists and intellectuals who were deprived of great ideals. What has the litanic model to do with these movements? We will open with a poem that links the over two-centuries-long tradition of canzonetta with the new vision connecting this part of our study with the previously analyzed works. Among the Canti of Giacomo Leopardi we count one canzonetta, which recalls the formal line begun by Gabriello Chiabrera and carried on by Pietro Metastasio. We will see that the former constitutes a direct, lexical model, and both Chiabrera and Metastasio leave formal traces in the model of canzonetta of the young Leopardi. It will also be not insignificant for the formal evolution of the later, patriotic poetry. “Il Risorgimento”136 is the only poem that Leopardi wrote on the scheme of canzonetta; it is “made in an ancient manner,”137 as he confessed to his sister. The text is longer than any other canzonetta that we have analyzed up to now. It numbers twenty stanzas of double quatrains, composed in seven-syllable lines. While other types of repetition are present in the first and the second stanza,138 the first anaphoric correlation closes the third stanza, “spenta per me la luna / spente le stelle in ciel”139 (“extinguished for me the moon / extinguished the stars in the sky,” ll. 23–24). It manifests the character of a personal motto. Together with the penultimate, it involves the final line, which ends with an apocopate stress. Starting from this point two kinds of bond are established in the text. In fact, in the following stanza the anaphora “era l’antico affetto” (“it was the old

135 Some scholars speak about a popular tendency using scare quotes, which stress that the poetry of that period wanted to appear as popular. It is necessary to distinguish the use of the popular sources from highbrow imitations. See Amedeo Quondam, Risorgimento a memoria: le poesie degli italiani (Rome: Donzelli Editore, 2011), VII. 136 The term stands here for spiritual and lyrical renewal, not for a political program. 137 Cf. Leopardi, Canti, 159. 138 In the first stanza the expression “dolci affanni” is repated in lines 3 and 5; in the second there is a lexical link (“mancò”) between lines 4 and 5. 139 The same scheme in the twelfth stanza: “tutto un dolor mi spira, / tutto un piacer mi dà.” (ll. 95–96).

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affection,” l. 26) and “era dolore ancor” (“[my sadness] was still a sorrow,” l. 32) connects the quatrains. In stanzas seven and eight we note that the anaphora condenses four lines (ll. 49–64):140 non all’autunno pallido in solitaria villa, la vespertina squilla, il fuggitivo Sol. Invan brillare il vespero Vidi per muto calle, invan sonò la valle del flebile usignol. E voi, pupille tenere, sguardi furtivi, erranti, voi de’ gentili amanti primo, immortale amor, ed alla mano offertami candida ignuda mano, foste voi pure invano al duro mio sopor.

In lines 52–55 we find even more litanic features. Once again the anaphoric verse links up the internal part of the stanza with its final part. In this case it also connects the following stanza, in which the anaphora changes its position in order to become an epiphora (l. 63). The dialogue with a lyrical “you,” who is addressed twice (ll. 57, 59, with an echo, see l. 63), is a reminiscence of Chiabrera’s “Dolci miei sospiri.”141 There is an important difference in the versification: Chiabrera used an even meter, writing his poems in six-syllables. As we remember, it was Metastasio, in his ariette in the form of canzonetta, who introduced to the genre a more noble, odd meter, namely the seven-syllable. Now we can observe that Leopardi, in fact, brought his reminiscence of Chiabrera’s versification into a modern framework. This operation changes the pattern of the stresses in the lines, exalting the fourth syllable, as was done in the anaphoric-litanic repetition of Metastasio. This type of meter comes back in the seventeenth stanza, in which it opens the second quatrain: “E voi, pupille tremule, / voi raggio sovrumano” (“And you, twinkling pupils, / you prodigious ray,” ll. 133–134). The pattern is effective in the first line, while starting from the second the manner is not exact.

140 Leopardi, Canti, 161–7. 141 The poem is analyzed in the first part of the present chapter.

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In conclusion we would say that the young Leopardi, writing his only classical canzonetta, formed his poetry closely on the traditional models. As we have observed, he prefers the eighteenth-century metrical solution, and a lexical reminiscence which observes the highbrow roots of the genre. At the same time, he searches for his own way to reconcile the hesitations of a modern soul trying to save the grace of the traditional language.

22.1 Formal and Thematic Models at the Beginning of the Century In Leopardi142 the civic sense or the sentiment of the ‘nation’ are expressed in the already-quoted ode “All’Italia” (“To Italy”) and in another poem entitled “Sopra il monumento di Dante” (“On the monument to Dante”) which was written in 1818. Several decades later, during the wars of independence, we witness the exploits of an entire generation which struggled for the unification of Italy into a single state. Most of their adventures are described in poems which can be short or long. Some of these are immediately set to music and become popular songs. In the period under discussion, the literary inspirations of the poets are based also on events, battles, expeditions, etc. starting from the Napoleonic wars in the Apennine Peninsula. Napoleon himself is celebrated by Alessandro Manzoni in his ode “Il Cinque Maggio” (“The Fifth of May”).143 Apparently the title recalls the day of the death of Napoleon, but the text manifests a strong chairetismic character as its aim is to honor the greatness of his life. Unlike the analyzed poems by Leopardi, on the surface of Manzoni’s ode, the litanic character seems weak. It is expressed through a few anaphoric lines, such as the opening sentence “Ei fu” (“He was”) and then recalled in line 43 with a litanic variation (“tutto ei provò,” “he tried everything”); later it returns in lines 49 (“Ei si nomò,” “He named himself ”), and 53 (“ei fe’ silenzio,” “he was silent”). At the level of sound and logical connection, the link is preserved also in the stanza that is opened by the anaphora “E sparve” (“And disappeared,” l. 55). As for laudatory phrases, we have several attributes spread throughout the ode, starting from an elegiac “uom fatale” (“man of fate,” l. 8). Some of them include a periphrastic development (“Vergin di servo encomio  / E di codardo oltraggio,” “free of servile flattery  / 142 It is examined in Carlo di Lieto, “Leopardi ‘civile’,” Riscontri, 3–4(2011): 13–36. 143 Alessandro Manzoni, Tutte le poesie 1812–1872, ed. Gilberto Lonardi (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1987), 109–12. The poem came to Manzoni right after he had read in a newspaper about the death of Napoleon. It seems to be one of a very few texts written by Manzoni very quickly. Cf. Paola Azzolini’s commentary, ibid., 233.

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and in vile insult,” ll. 19–20). Some invoked addressees are named through litanic antonomasias: God appears as “Massimo Fattore”144 (“the Greatest Maker,” l. 33–34). The litanic elements allow Manzoni to link up the semantics of sacrum with a civil poem dedicated to Napoleon. In fact, starting from l. 61 we encounter an elegiac movement that associates repetition with complaint (ll. 61–64; 69–78): Come sul capo al naufrago L’onda s’avvolve e pesa, L’onda su cui del misero, Alta pur dianzi e tesa, […] Oh quante volte ai posteri Narrar sè stesso imprese, E sull’eterne pagine Cadde la stanca man! Oh quante volte, al tacito Morir d’un giorno inerte, Chinati i rai fulminei, Le braccia al sen conserte, Stette, e dei dì che furono L’assalse il sovvenir!

Here the theme is no longer Napoleon, but the force of human destiny together with the topic of memory. In such a perspective even the lines in which the sunset is described, and each single element of this decline (the death of the day with the lowering of the beam of light, the dying Bonaparte folding his arms) is made equal, as if it were a component of a list. In litanies, too, all the enumerated elements have the same status. In “Il Cinque Maggio” religious values are juxtaposed with the civic spirit, which is an internal characteristic of the Italian ode.145 A new balance is achieved, if we consider that before the nineteenth century civic and spiritual poetry rarely shared the same semantic space. There is no fixed scheme of stresses within the analyzed seven-syllable lines, but it is worth noting a similar pattern which informs the two lines that start

144 God, named directly, lies down close to Napoleon in the final lines of the poem, which combine the impious—to sum up some moments of Napoleon’s life—and the sacred element, namely the death of the Emperor. 145 As Quondam notes the civic poety, which intentionally became involved in political and patriotic issues, changed its elegant, neoclassical tone after the failure of the risings of 1821. Subsequently it adopted harsh and military rhythms. Cf. Quondam, Risorgimento a memoria, 12.

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with the anaphoric “Oh.” These two seven-syllable lines present a proparoxytone closing. For the second of them it seems a formal requirement, as all the lines that open the stanzas of this ode are of the same type, but the first, occurring in the middle of a stanza, is made to reproduce exactly the same pattern. It creates a shorter stanzaic unit within the larger text. Let us turn to a patriotic ode by Manzoni, a poem devoted to a dead soldier which was composed two months before the poem we have just examined— “Marzo 1821.” In the dedication we read, “Alla illustre memoria di Teodoro Koerner Poeta e soldato della indipendenza germanica morto sul campo di Lipsia il giorno XVIII d’ottobre MDCCCXIII nome caro a tutti i popoli che combattono per difendere o per riconquistare una patria” (“March 1821. To the illustrious memory of Theodor Koerner, Poet and Soldier of German Independence fallen in the Battle of Leipzig XVIII of October MDCCCXIII, a name which is dear to all people who fight to defend or regain their homeland”).146 In this poem patriotic values are combined with the sacrum. The latter is identified with a specific religious idea, starting at the ninth stanza in which God is invoked. Italy is the addressee of the opening of the following part. Moreover, a strong anaphoric verse is set up starting from the first stanza of the ode (ll. 1–10): Soffermati sull’arida sponda, Volti i guardi al varcato Ticino, Tutti assorti nel nuovo destino, Certi in cor dell’antica virtù, Han giurato: Non fia che quest’onda Scorra più tra due rive straniere: Non fia loco ove sorgan barriere Tra l’Italia e l’Italia, mai più! L’han giurato: altri forti a quel giuro Rispondean da fraterne contrade,

The litanic repetition is first introduced as a syntactic anaphora (l. 5), and then brought to a relevant metrical position at the beginning of the second stanza. 146 Manzoni, Tutte le poesie, 105–8. We may add that the sympathy of the author is for a “poet and soldier” of the German war against Napoleonic France. As often happened in that epoch, sympathy was felt for those who struggled for freedom and independence. We should recall that Manzoni wrote this poem in 1821 and published it in 1848. Theodor Koerner could have been seen by Manzoni as the young Goffredo Mameli. Cf. Paola Azzolini’s commentary, ibid., 223–4. The ode was first composed in the period of rebellion in Piedmont and then published during the insurgency in Milan and Northern Italy (1848).

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Starting from that moment, we find litanic-anaphoric lines that either exalt certain points of the poem or unify its stanzas (ll. 5, 9). There seems to be a specific internal movement which links two of three stanzas. In this perspective, the semantics of the sacred is enriched in the third stanza by a list of hydronyms— these elements are also supported by the anaphora—and of the attributes of a free nation, which are enumerated in stanzas four and five (ll. 29; 31–37): [Una gente che libera tutta,] Una d’arme, di lingua, d’altare, Di memorie, di sangue e di cor. Con quel volto sfidato e dimesso, Con quel guardo atterrato ed incerto, Con che stassi un mendico sofferto Per mercede nel suolo stranier, Star doveva in sua terra il Lombardo;

The location of the struggle for independence becomes a holy symbol, to which the poet adds the army, language, faith, history, blood, and the heart. These are the attributes of the defeated nation, which are immediately listed in a triple anaphora (tattered aspect, gaze filled with fear, the suffering of the beggar). The two following stanzas open with an invocation to the foreign rulers—“O stranieri” “O foreigners”—and it is present in both external and internal stanzaic position. We must add that the apostrophe is accompanied by anaphoric lines, which in the poem are included in each stanza, and often a single unit manifests two different litanic anaphoras. The semantic culmination of the ode is not in the final lines, but in the succeeding group of three stanzas, in which the story of the biblical chosen people is identified with that of the Italians. The importance of the semantic element of water is here operative once again, with reference to the exodus from Egypt. The vengeance of Jael becomes a symbol of the fight against those who oppress nations without divine sanction. The following stanza exalts the litanic characters, placing the anaphora in a central position (ll. 73–80): Cara Italia! dovunque il dolente Grido uscì del tuo lungo servaggio; Dove ancor dell’umano lignaggio, Ogni speme deserta non è; Dove già libertade è fiorita, Dove ancor nel segreto matura, Dove ha lacrime un’alta sventura Non c’è cor che non batta per te.

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The rising up of the nation is linked to the attributes of the “human lineage,” listed together with places where freedom is yet blossoming, those where it secretly matures, and those where tears are brought about by misfortune. The closing two stanzas maintain the litanic verse, creating a war cry which encourages people to fight for the homeland. We may note an interesting connection with the spiritual verses written by Bianco da Siena five centuries earlier in his laudas.147 An image of the promised Christian paradise is shaped using anaphoric-litanic devices, into which are integrated both theological knowledge and mystical cognition. As we can see, Manzoni’s patriotic ode introduces elements of the sacred and spiritual discourse in a civic and profane form, typical of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Italian poetry. It helps to put the religious feeling at the same level as patriotic sentiment, which starting from about 1810 gradually becomes the center of many poets’ worldview. We observe that the litanic traits are stronger in those parts in which the message is pressing, where the need for (poetical) action replaces reflection. As far as versification is concerned, Manzoni’s civic poetry is written in decasyllables, which is quite rare in Italian poetry. It should be emphasized that the pattern of stresses fixed by Manzoni (the third syllable is strongly pronounced, as in his religious octosyllablic poems) will be taken up by the following generations of poets. The versification is often asymmetric, a fact that gives a good gait to the even-syllabic lines. It often seems that the first, shorter part, with the third syllable stressed, is highlighted. Manzoni’s versification recalls that of poetry which was written to be set to music, a versification which was elaborated starting from the seventeenth century, and also used by Metastasio and Lorenzo da Ponte.148 We can say that a strong litanic-anaphoric verse is grafted onto a pattern which preserves a relation with metrical tradition. It is adapted to a structure that brings information, thanks to a specific set of rules. The litanic anaphora hardly modifies what the implied parts communicate, even if in the last analyzed case the insistence on the litanic characteristic prevails in the traditional gait of the versification. We may note at the same time that references to the qualities of the litanies, especially to chairetismic praising, even when not correlated with a specific versification, is a relevant contribution to the genre of ode in this epoch.

147 See my “Litania come strategia retorica nelle Laudi del Bianco da Siena,” Bullettino senese di storia patria, CXXII(2015): 155–69. 148 For the history of the octosyllable, cf. Pietro Beltrami, La metrica italiana, 189–92.

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22.2  Poets of the Risorgimento As we have observed, the epoch of struggles for national unification features a large number of soldier-poets, who usually left few texts. The corpus of patriotic poetry is not small, but most of the writers of this kind of poetry are not considered to have been the most important poets of the nineteenth-century. However, this view, which is typical of contemporary scholars, is criticized by Amedeo Quondam: […] pensando all’età del nostro Risorgimento, basterà ricordare che la poesia fu allora importante, anzi molto importante, come lo fu nella stagione della Rivoluzione: stabilmente presente persino nei ritmi e nel senso della vita quotidiana di chi fosse in grado di leggerla e magari di scriverla, e di suonarla e magari di cantarla. E i poeti erano noti e venerati, e i loro versi erano oggetti consueti nello spazio e nel tempo, in casa e fuori casa. Ma non era solo la poesia dei poeti e dei loro libri e libretti: era anche la poesia per fare musica domestica in piccola o larga compagnia, erano vecchie canzoni e nuove romanze, di origine e pertinenza sia cólta sia popolare.149

Quondam speaks about an Italy which intentionally and thoroughly wanted to be ‘young’ and ‘rebellious.’150 Many of these new poets continue the tradition of the ode and especially of the canzonetta, and display a great interest in popular forms with different types of refrains. These refrains often obviate other forms of repetition. Although the refrain itself constitutes a repetitive passage within the text, during the Risorgimento we can find odes and canzonette that exploit the litanic potential to a greater or lesser degree. Many poets whom we will list in the following parts of this chapter can be considered children of the same cultural and historical context, but often they are not recognized as exponents of a single movement.151 Some of them are close to Romanticism, others are interested in poetry devoted to social questions. Some wrote almost exclusively battle songs, others worked on different popular forms and topics. Probably their verses meant more than simple ideological writings, as Quondam remarks.152 After the first stage of the struggles for independence, a satirical poetry on national subjects developed. The formal aspect of many poems of this time is rich and various, and often only the tone indicates whether a certain poem should be considered a canzonetta or an ode. The romantic ballad 149 Quondam, Risorgimento a memoria, VIII. 150 Ibid., IX. 151 Cf. e.g. Riccardo Merolla, Conclusione e crisi del Risorgimento (Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1973). The examined period manifests heterogeneous purposes and influences. 152 Quondam, Risorgimento a memoria, IX.

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starts to occupy a relevant position among more traditional genres. Let us generalize from an idea of Riccardo Merolla, according to which the poetry of these “minor” writers also met the taste of the public, namely the average citizens, during the Risorgimento and the decades after.153 Let us start by looking at a few poems by Niccolò Tommaseo, who composed many canzonette with a marked presence of litanic anaphoras. His long life and rich literary output extend through the period of the three wars of independence, and beyond the first decade of the Kingdom of Italy. His corpus is complex and was subject to different and even contrasting influences,154 whose nature was principally religious and literary. In fact, publishing his own collected poems in 1872 he entitled the edition Poesie e preghiere.155 The patriotic spirit leads him to make an attempt to define his own country (“L’Italia,” “Italy”156). The only description, which includes a sequence of wishes, can be found in negation, and accompanied by a litanic-anaphoric verse.157 Let us read some lines of a modern soliloquy with the soul entitled “Esilio volontario”158 (“Voluntary exile,” ll. 1–18): Risorgi, rinfranca la possa smarrita; o anima stanca Conosci la vita. Tua patria è l’esiglio, tua sede il periglio, tua legge l’amor. Deserta è la vita, lontana la mèta: solinga ti avvia, né trista né lieta. D’Italia il pensiero

153 Merolla, Conclusione e crisi del Risorgimento, 1–2. Merolla quotes some names, especially that of Aleardo Aleardi, but in our opinion these conclusions can be extended. 154 Combining a fervent and dogmatic Catholicism, a reflection on Savonarola and an interest in social movements. Merolla calls him an “anxious superchristian.” Ibid., 110–5. 155 Niccolò Tommaseo, Opere, ed. Mario Puppo (Florence: Sansoni, 1968), vol. I, 3. 156 Ibid., 9–10. Together with “Esilio volontario” it was written during the poet’s exile in France in the 1830s. Cf. Luisa Gallotti Giordani and Rosa Maria Monastra, Niccolò Tommaseo e la crisi del romanticismo (Rome–Bari: Laterza, 1976), 58. 157 “Stanza 3,” lines 10–14: “Non impavida baldanza, / non imbelle e vil sospiro; / non ignobile il desiro, / non feroce la speranza, non sia stolto il suo clamor.” 158 Tommaseo, Opere, vol. I, 10–1.

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(tremendo mistero) tien’ sempre nel cuor. La vita sia monda, la speme sia pura: la voce risponda all’alta sventura.

This canzonetta is composed of canonical, seven-line stanzas of seven-syllable lines, with the rhyme scheme ababccd efefggd hihijjk lmlmnnk… We can observe several richly shaped types of litanic references. The first kind is related to the anaphoric verse that is operative in the first, fifth,159 and eight160 stanzas. These parts share a syllabic pattern which is characterized by a predominant stress on the second syllable. We then observe two types of enumeration: the first puts the attribute before the noun, and expresses the difficulties of existence. The second creates a positive, binary thematic nucleus which connects life to hope, and to which the idea of voice161 can be added thanks to the metrical position in which the concept is placed (the opening of l. 17). From the syntactic perspective we may speak about an independent unit inserted into the metrical. Two kinds of list mark the litanic realizations between the negative and the positive side of the poem. We observe a litanic frame suggested through anaphoric lines in the opening stanza, which is modeled in several, rich ways throughout the text. Tommaseo’s poetry is closely related to prayer, and not only litanic prayer. This context is a good background for examining blended discursive forms, such as the excerpt that follows (ll. 59–61): Al tuo popolo, Signore, Dona un duce ed un pastore, Un linguaggio un braccio, un cuore.162

The direct request, addressing God, is supported by the final enumeration. It is only a short example of the mixed rhetorical elements that are widespread in

159 Lines 30–33: “conforti al tuo duolo / non hai che dal cielo. / Non d’aspre fatiche, / Non d’ire nemiche,” etc. 160 Lines 51–55: “memorie soavi / di gioie segrete, / di taciti studi, / di quete virtudi, / di pianto e d’amor.” 161 So the poetry. 162 See “Gl’italiani morti in Spagna,” ed. Ettore Janni, I poeti minori dell’Ottocento. Poesia della patria ed eredità del Risorgimento (Milan: Rizzoli, 1955), 174–6.

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Tommaseo’s works.163 In the quoted lines the semantic field, in which the sacrum is linked to patriotic values, is constructed thanks to a deep knowledge of the rhetoric of prayer. The wish for a united164 nation is associated with a reflection on the common political and cultural aspects of a country—compared to a body with a language,165 an arm, and a heart—which needs both a leader and a shepherd. As we can see, thanks to a condensation of both rhetorical devices and conceptual elements, three lines can express a political program and summarize a reflection. “L’Europa”166 recalls the troubles of European nations167 (Paris and London on the one hand, Italy and Poland on the other) together with some glorious (victories over the Ottoman Empire) and symbolically unhappy moments (the biblical Deluge). Using a good number of stanzaic-anaphoric repetitions the subject hopes for a serene future for the continent, which is strong in God (l. 53). Unlike that of other authors discussed in this chapter, Tommaseo’s poetry is supported by concrete references to various ways of praying, which perhaps are related to a “necessity of the soul” of the author, for whom they were a “refuge from existential anxiety.”168 A Christian reflection is explicit in his vision of national unification. Moreover, as someone observed, Tommaseo ha fortissimo il senso della efficacia pragmatica della religione, la considera una forza che può promuovere il progresso “centuplicando” l’energia degli organismi civili e dello stato […].169

Religion is part of a pragmatic approach to the future of Italy. The litany, at least in the poetry, constitutes a good rhetorical framework for the development of his theses. A solemn ode written by Giovanni Berchet continues our survey of patriotic poetry. Berchet was a poet who “of the political drama of an epoch made a drama of his own conscience.”170 He declared a poetical war against the foreign 163 Cf. “Memorie de’ popoli,” in which a list of antitheses is introduced by a reference associated with the sacrum: “Le sante battaglie, le paci codarde, / Le splendide morti, le inique vittorie” (ll. 5–6). Ibid., 177. 164 In the last line the idea of a body refers the unity of an organism. 165 In Italian a paronomastic wordplay is possible between language (lingua, linguaggio) and tongue (lingua). 166 Niccolò Tommaseo, Opere, vol. I, 50–52. 167 Symbolized in certain cases by their capital cities. 168 From a letter of Tommaseo to Lambruschini, cf. Vito lo Curto, Mario Themelly, Gli scrittori cattolici dalla Restaurazione all’Unità (Rome–Bari: Laterza, 1976), 28. 169 Ibid., 29. 170 Mario Fubini, Romanticismo italiano (Rome–Bari: Laterza, 1971), 156.

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dominion and oppression, as Ettore Janni argues.171 “All’armi! All’armi” (“To arms, to arms”)172 was written after the revolts broke out in Bologna and Modena173 (ll. 7–14): Su, Italia, su, in armi! venuto è il tuo’ di! Dei re congiurati la tresca fini! Dall’Alpi allo Stretto fratelli siam tutti!174 Su i limiti schiusi, sui troni distrutti Piantiamo i comuni tre nostri color! Il verde, la speme tant’anni pasciuta; Il rosso, la gioia d’averla compiuta; Il bianco, la fede fraterna d’amar.

The refrain is followed by a metrically symmetric form, for both the number of the lines and the even-syllablic meter, or the double six-syllable.175 The harmony of the composition is emphasized subdividing the quoted stanza into two parts. In the second an anaphoric list of the colors of the Italian flag is created, with three periphrases of the theological virtues which follow (the second element is not strictly religious, since charity is replaced by joy). In this way there is a plain attempt to draw the symbols of the common fight176 together to some traditional religious elements.177 As one can observe, the order of the sacred qualities is here inverted, as is the order of colors on the flag, faith being the last element in the list. In the metrical frame of the double six-syllable we find the first part, in which the association color-virtue occurs. The second constitutes a kind of commentary, in which the litanic element seems to develop from this basis. This kind of association can be found in other poets of the following generation, for example,

I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 7. Ibid., 16–7. It was in 1831, during the wave of revolutions across Europe. This geographical extension is a stereotypical element of many patriotic poems, from Manzoni’s “Marzo 1821,” through Luigi Carrer and Aleardo Aleardi to Goffredo Mameli’s “All’armi, All’armi!” Cf. Giuseppe Stefani, La lirica italiana e l’irredentismo. Da Goffredo Mameli a Gabriele d’Annunzio (Rocca San Casciano: Cappelli, 1959), 13–4. The text of the present Italian national anthem also includes a similar reference. 175 It is related with Manzoni’s use of even meters. The legacy of the melodrama is not a negligible detail. Cf. Beltrami, La metrica italiana, 203. 176 The colors of the flag were commonly accepted as a symbol of the Risorgimento after the foundation of the Cispadane Republic in 1797, during the Napoleonic wars. 177 The conventional nature attributed to the colors is here preserved, green being the color of the hope, etc. 171 172 173 174

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in the poem “Passa la ronda” (“The patrol is doing the rounds”)178 by Teobaldo Ciconi (ll. 8–11): Siamo le guardie dai tre colori, Verde, la speme dei nostri cori, Bianco, la fede stretta tra noi, Rosso, le piaghe dei nostri eroi.

Beyond this short, litanic part dedicated to the flag, this poem is rather a war song. Its lines are subdivided into two parts, and once again the colors are associated with two virtues. The third line, which opens with “Red,” recalls the wounds of the heroes of the nation. This image replaces the third theological virtue. In this brief polyonymic enumeration the first and the fourth syllables of the lines are always stressed. This brings the litanic list close to the form of the refrain, which presents the same rhythmic pattern of the opening of the lines.179 The litanic form is also adapted to speak about the tricolor in a text by Fran­ cesco Dall’Ongaro, an exponent of the generation that participated in the movements of 1848 and one of the most popular exponents of the lyrical Risorgimento. His poetry manifests great interest in repetitive forms, and in the short poem “Il  Tricolore” (“The tricolor”)180 we encounter two litanic-anaphoric orders in the second stanza: Sventola in cima ai monti, Sventola in mezzo al mar; Sui petti e sulle fronti, Sui merli e sugli altar.

The symmetry is perfect, if we consider that the syllabic pattern of the first anaphoric line is reproduced exactly in the following one. Even if the first stress changes position between the first and the second couplet,181 an additional parallelism is created thanks to the apocopated rhyme that links up the two types of anaphoric lines. In his youth Dall’Ongaro was a priest, but he left the priesthood to follow the struggles for national unification and the ideals of a liberal republic.

178 I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 47–9. 179 “Zitti, silenzio! Chi passa là? / Passa la ronda. Viva la ronda: / Viva l’Italia, la libertà!” 180 I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 84. It should not be mistaken for another extremely popular text entitled “La bandiera tricolore,” set to music by Cordigliani. 181 While the second is always on the fourth syllable.

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Later he became anti-clerical and even anti-Catholic.182 Nevertheless, he wrote a short poem entitled “Pio Nono,” about pope Pius IX183 (ll. 1–6): Pio Nono non è un nome e non è quello Che trincia l’aria assiso in faldistoro. Pio Nono è figlio del nostro cervello, Un idolo del core, un sogno d’oro. Pio Nono è una bandiera, un ritornello, Un nome buono da cantarsi in coro.

We observe the regularity of the anaphoric intonation, and the sequence of praising phrases that accompanies it. The laudatory expressions are syntactically complete; they represent the attributes joined to a predicate. In the second part of the text, which is composed of three couplets, other ideas are exalted (a free homeland is the highest value), and the litanic qualities lose their efficacy. In contrast to this poem, another one, devoted to Mazzini,184 resorts to litanic characters with more intensity: Chi dice che Mazzini è in Alemagna, Chi dice che Mazzini è in Inghilterra, Chi lo pone a Ginevra e chi in Ispana, chi lo vuol sugli altari e chi sotterra. Ditemi un po’, grulloni in cappa magna, Quanti Mazzini c’è sopra la terra? Se volete saper dov’è Mazzini, domandatelo all’Alpi e agli Appennini. Mazzini è in ogni loco ove si trema Che giunga a’ traditor l’ ora suprema. Mazzini è in ogni loco ove si spera Versare il sangue per l’Italia intera.

Two litanic schemes are adopted here: the first is metrical-anaphoric, while the second combines the name with a description which can be realized through attributes, circumlocutions, or short narrative fragments. The anaphora does not involve any shared pattern of stressed syllables. The second scheme, in lines 9 and 11, not only includes a long repetitive formula. It also allows the identification of 182 Cf. I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 82. 183 Ibid., 83. Niccolò Tommaseo also wrote a poem dedicated to this pope. Cf. “A Pio IX,” Tommaseo, Opere, vol. I, 39–40. It is acknowledged that Pius IX, for a short time after his election, was considered a reformer. 184 “Mazzini,” cf. I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 84.

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both fear (of the traitors) and hope (of those who shed blood for the unification of Italy) related to the common struggle. The poems on Pius IX and Mazzini are Dall’Ongaro’s interpretations of the stornello form, which is a popular genre characterized by ironic or joyful disposition.185 Dall’Ongaro published his collection of stornelli during the 1860s,186 after the unification of the country. Perhaps that decade, when formal unification had been achieved, was a good moment to present such poems. The tendency to use an anaphoric verse derives from both the serious poetry of the Risorgimento, and the medieval tradition of a realistic-comic tendency.187 In the large perspective of metrical forms used during the Risorgimento, unusual or archaic rhyme scheme is adopted to shape the stanzas of “Le necrologie” (“Obituary notice”)188 by Arnaldo Fusinato. This poet had made his debut with the generation that fought for unification, but he continued to write and publish into the 1880s. His satirical poems were appreciated in the second half of the century, and we would like here to analyze the rare case of a verse in which the litany189 is the topic. With its description of a funeral procession, the first octave—the ironic tendency includes the specific rhyme scheme aabbccdd…— constitutes a poetical obituary notice about Tizio, a kind of “Tom, Dick, and Harry.” In the third stanza, the late Tizio is directly addressed: Oh! Tizio caro, Tizio perduto, la tua dimora lascia un minuto, E torna in terra, se no d’affanno I tuoi parenti tutti morranno! – Di questa specie di  l i t a n i e, Vulgo chiamate  N e c r o l o g i e, Tagliate a  s a l m o ,  listate a nero Come  l e   l a p i d i   d ’ u n   c i m i t e r o , Voi ne leggete duecento al mese Sulle gazzette d’ogni paese.

Why should we consider this passage? Together with a kind of prayer to the dead, we have two religious elements, related to praise and supplication. Both psalm 185 Between Romagna, Tuscany, and Lazio, the stornello presents certain regional variants. 186 The collection Stornelli italiani was printed in 1862. 187 Such an attitude foretells poetical doubts of the next generation of poets. 188 I poeti minori dell’Ottocento, 95. 189 So also does Giosuè Carducci, with a serious purpose, in his sonnet “Nicola Pisano. I” written in the 1890s and included in the collection Rime e ritmi, published in 1899.

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and litany are mocked by the lyrical subject. The two genres are then associated with the color black, or mourning, and tombstones. Although the religious connotations are not reflected in the formal aspects of the poem, this trend is significant for the poetry that followed, which would perceive itself as lacking great ideals and the opportunity to fight battles. The solution is to upend, often making explicit some implicit qualities, the religious references, elements of prayer, and theological concepts. The tone will change, and the purpose will be burlesque. Going back in time, Goffredo Mameli became an emblematic figure of the middle part of the Risorgimento. Mameli is also known for his participation in the battles in Milan and Rome in 1848–1849, and for his premature death at the age of 21.190 Almost a century later, one of his poems was adopted as the Italian national anthem. Mameli’s poetical legacy is not particularly rich. It is divided into two parts, Poesie d’amore and Poesie di guerra (love and war poems). The first group includes the earliest texts, among which we find a romantic “Ballata” (“Ballad”).191 In the eleven-line stanzas (six+five lines) composed in seven-syllable lines we find an anaphora at the beginning of the stanzas (ll. 1–13; 23–24, 34–35): Bella dal sen di neve, Bella dal crin dorato, Ridi al poeta: breve Ora concede il fato Alle rosate imagini, Ai palpiti del cor. Il gelo del dolore Presto rapisce all’anima La forza dell’amore, Qual ne’ suoi gorghi rapidi L’onda travolge il fior. Ridi al poeta: blanda Fagli obbliar la vita: […]

190 The major military leaders, such as Garbilaldi and Mazzini, considered him a heroic and charismatic figure. 191 Goffredo Mameli, Il canto degli Italiani, ed. Guido Davico Bonino (Milan: Rizzoli, 2010), 48–9. We should add that the generation of Mameli was the first to adopt as a model the pre-romantic Italian poets, such as Berchet and Luigi Carrer. The Italian nineteenth-century ballad is constructed on the scheme of the ode. Cf. Paolo Giovannetti, Nordiche superstizioni. La ballata romantica italiana (Venice: Marsilio, 1999).

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Ridi al poeta: accanto A lui riposa il fianco, […] Ridi al poeta: oh, ch’io Morda le trecce, il velo […]

The two opening lines are repeated in the conclusion of the poem (ll. 45–46). This feature recalls the religious contexts in a special way because the invoked beauty is described through her attributes. The last lines also imply a cyclical recitation. It should be said that originally the ballad form included the refrain, and similar use can be found in this poem. The anaphora “Ridi al poeta” (“Laugh to the poet”) that opens a sequence of stanzas is not only the frame of a part of the poem. It is associated with the litanic manner, as from the first use there is an epithet that follows this phrase. In lines 3 and 12 the epithets refer to life and destiny, while the anaphoras that follow are addressed to the beautiful women invoked in the first line. In Mameli’s war poetry, the anaphoric verse is found in more poems, even if rarely it sets the pace of the texts. Let us quote some titles: “L’alba,” “Roma,” “La buona novella,” “Dio e il popolo,” “Sonò l’ora,” “Ella infranse le sette ritorte,” “Milano e Venezia” (“Down,” “Rome,” “Good news,” “God and the people,” “The time has come,” “She shook off her fetters,” “Milan and Venice”). These poems include a certain number of repetitions which can be interpreted as litanic. It is relevant that some poems have a refrain, which should not be confused with forms of the litany. The metrical anaphora does not always sufficiently build up a litanic connotation, but we find a number of cases in which it influences the reading of the poem. “L’alba”192 includes an apparent refrain in the form of a tercet, which ends the stanzas composed of seven decasyllabic lines. There are two points in which the text manifests both a litanic inclination in the versification, and a sacred topic. First we have the final part of the second stanza (ll. 18–20): Dio confonda colui che dispera, Che diserta una vinta bandiera, Che nel fango si assise, e posò.

The second part is in the seventh stanza (ll. 61–63): Se versò su di noi la sventura Benedetta la mano di Dio! Benedetta la nostra sciagura!…

192 Goffredo Mameli, Il canto degli Italiani, 81–4. In the first stanza, the tercet presents the apocopated closing of the lines.

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Let us observe that in the fourteenth-century litanic verse was associated with poetical blessing, as we remember from both certain laudas by Bianco da Siena and a sonnet by Petrarch. Here the character of this kind of expression is different. A doubt rises, as in the following lines fraternal bloodstains, crying, and oblivion are mentioned. Certainly the blessing cannot be intended in the traditional way. Another text, “La buona novella”193 includes, in the motto, a quotation from Revelation of John (XVIII, 2, 23, 24). Couplets of anaphoric lines are present in this poem starting from the first stanza. The aim is to construct a new, patriotic mysticism (“Non guardate piangendo gli avelli, / Non è ver che sia morta la bella;” “Do not look crying into the graves / It is not true that the beauty is dead,” ll. 3–4) linking the story with the biblical narration of the chosen people. The litanic tercet ends the eighth stanza (ll. 71–80): [Benedetta la man del Signor,] Che ha permessa la vostra vendetta, Che ha vibrata la santa saetta, Che ascoltò degli oppressi il dolor!

The quoted anaphoric lines manifest a sacred connotation, but it is the concentration of the repetition that puts this tercet at the center of the entire poem. In fact, the most intense moment occurs not in the final stanza, but in the quoted lines, in which a litanic quality creates a real climax, the maximum tension. In “Sonò l’ora”194 a similar kind of anaphora is operative. This is a shorter poem, composed of three stanzas, with an explicit, three-line refrain.195 The central stanza contains some litanic traits: Ci tradisce chi unirci non tenta, Chi con noi libertà non sospira, Chi non odia dei re la sementa, Chi fra i popoli semina l’ira.

As before, the anaphora is introduced in the middle of a line, and then emphasized through its repetition in a more relevant metrical position. Through this rhetorical arrangement the enemies are described. We find two other anaphoric types in the last stanza. The first one depends syntactically on the opening line, in which the cause of unity is love, defined through the anaphoric expression “Questo fior(e)” (“This flower”), repeated in lines 31–35. This unifying love, or even the wish for it, is not given to impious and vile people, but only to those 193 Ibid., 107–10. 194 Ibid., 119–20. 195 The refrain possesses a shorter meter.

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who rise up: “Solo a quei che si voller risorti, / Solo ai liberi Iddio lo darà.” (“Only to those who wanted to rise up,  / Only to those will God give it,” ll. 37–38). One more element makes “Sonò l’ora” the most litanic among Mameli’s poems. It seems to be a rare example of a poem with a refrain which in fact implies litanic features. Let us read three lines (ll. 11–13): Una sola è la bandiera Di chi crede, di chi spera, E v’è scritto Umanità.

In the remaining two recurrences of this part the only thing that changes is the final word, namely the ideals that are “written” on the flag, or “Unità” (“Unity,” l. 29), and “Libertà” (“Freedom,” l. 41). In such a way we obtain a litany with a reversed proportion: the formula, or the fixed part, occupies literally two and a half lines, while the abstract noun, which represents the highest patriotic values, to achieve greater emphasis changes at the end of each stanza. The patriotic poetry of the Risorgimento does manifest certain interest for the forms of repetition, either in the refrain or the litanic anaphora and list. The result is interesting especially for the poems with a refrain, which had earlier obviated litanic repetition. The litany supports the glorification of the national struggles that are celebrated in these poems. The canzonette connect the national values with the sphere of sacrum. This purpose requires the presence of religious language, with which rhetorical elements of the litany and other prayers are joined. As we have observed, in the poetry of the Risorgimento some metrical means are occasionally employed in order to achieve litanic qualities, but the latter are more often associated with the semantic aspects or with the principal topic of the poem.

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23 Recalling the Ancient Glories: Giosuè Carducci’s Odi barbare Between 1872 and 1893196 Giosuè Carducci composed and published three books of Odi barbare (“Barbaric Odes”): Odi barbare, Nuove odi barbare, and Terze odi barbare. These were subsequently collected in a volume which was subdivided into three parts, Libro I, Libro II, and Versioni.197 The volume of Barbaric Odes provides an account of a deep experiment concerning first of all versification,198 but also the ideological horizon of Carducci’s cultural project for the national and monarchic state that was born after the Risorgimento. As for the general, thematic aspect, civic topics were always present in Carducci’s poetry, but these odes were written for a specific purpose, which was both political and poetic. In fact, the “barbaric” period was important, as in this collection Carducci proposed his vision of unified Italy. So that this can be better understood, we shall briefly outline Carducci’s political path. In his youth the poet was a backer of Garibaldi, with whom he shared a vision of the future Italy. Nevertheless, after a long evolution, which was affected by the development of conflicts during the last stages of the Risorgimento, he became the official bard of the new, monarchic state together with its ruling family. Umberto Carpi discusses the motivations of Enotrio Romano—Carducci’s pen name for many of his poems from Inno a Satana (1865) up to 1877—who was a revolutionary, a convinced republican, and a Garibaldian internationalist.199 Associating this early period with “iambic”200 196 1872 seems to be the earliest date which can be found in Carducci’s manuscripts of the odes. It appears on a sheet related to “Le due torri.” In 1893 the final edition of all the odes was published and included the most recent textual variants, such as the change of the title of the closing poem, from “Conviviale” to “Congedo.” Cf. Giosuè Carducci, Odi barbare, ed. and commentary Manara Valgimigli (Bologna: Zanichelli, 1960), 83, 291. Valgimigli was a student of Carducci at the University of Bologna. 197 A certain number of translations from German-language authors (Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock and August von Platen) make up the last section of the ultimate edition of the book of odes. Ibid. 198 Carducci’s interest in this kind of experimentation started with his first book of poems, Rime (1857). 199 Umberto Carpi, Carducci. Politica e poesia (Pisa: Edizioni della Normale, 2010), 20–4. 200 With its mature stage defined as “epodic iambism,” associated with the collection Giam­ bi e epodi (1882), in which the poems from 1867–1879 were published. Cf. Carpi, Carducci, 129.

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poetry, Carpi reconstructs the changes that led Carducci to write odes that celebrate on the one hand a state culture, and on the other classical and pagan values: Nel primo discorso Dello svolgimento della letteratura nazionale201 Enotrio-Carducci aveva pur scritto che “la natura, il mondo, la società è Satana; il vuoto, il deserto la solitudine Gesù”: ma adesso, in Alle fonti del Clitunno, quel satanismo anticristiano alla Herzen e alla Stefanoni, molto ‘garibladino’ e sociale, è passato attraverso Schiller degli Dei della Grecia evolvendo a paganesimo classicista. Nel segno anticattolico, dai Decennalia di Enotrio Romano alle Barbare di Carducci.202

As for the political background of Carducci’s civil poetry, starting from the 1880s, Carpi argues: Proprio la fragilità del popolo nazionale, com’era stato quello girondino sollevato dalla rivoluzione francese col suo destino ça ira,203 impone a Carducci […] gli impone, dico, di optare per la centralità, ovvero di rassegnarsi alla monarchia: e fu un’autentica nemesi culturale […].204

Luigi Baldacci asserts that it was Freemasonry that steered Carducci’s political line at that time, both in his public life and therefore also in his poetry.205 Two parallel processes were underway at that point in Carducci’s work: one could say that the first concerned the signified, the second the signifier. It would not be correct to assert that Carducci abandoned any reference to the previous metrical tradition.206 He grafted onto the Italian versification tradition a coherent system of meters, inspired by the classical poetry, an interpretation of the ancient

201 The title of Carducci’s inaugural lecture at the University of Bologna, which was given in 1860. 202 Carpi, Carducci, 87. 203 An allusion to a sonnet by Carducci dedicated to the French Revolution. 204 Carpi, Carducci, 21. 205 Luigi Baldacci, “Giosue Carducci: strategia e invenzione,” in Carducci poeta. Atti del Convegno, ed. Umberto Carpi (Pisa: Giardini, 1987), 6–7. 206 Carducci’s previous poetic research was of the same type, but up to the Odi barbare traditional (and traditionally “barbaric”) meters or rhymes were operative. Cf. Bausi, Martelli, 250–5. Fausto Curi argues: “[…] è da notare che la sperimentazione carducciana, ancorché abbastanza varia, non è mai tanto ardita da superare o annullare le misure metriche canoniche. Gli acquisti che Carducci tenta di compiere e, fino un certo segno, effettivamente compie, sono tutti interni al territorio ben cognito e ben delimitato che gli sta alle spalle […].” Fausto Curi, “Manzoni, Carducci, Lucini,” in Carducci poeta, 269.

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patterns considered from the accentual point of view.207 This attempt was not a wholly new phenomenon—starting from the sixteenth century certain poets had tried to restore the classical metrics in Italian poetry. Gabriello Chiabrera, for example, attempted a transposition through an accentual-syllabic method.208 For Carducci, however, the history of “barbaric” meters applied to Italian poetry became an object of study, the results of which were published in the anthology La poesia barbara nei secoli XV e XVI.209 To complete his experimentation with classical versification Carducci also studied certain German poets, such as Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock and August von Platen,210 who had reinterpreted ancient and medieval metrical structures in their poetry. The main task of Carducci’s odes was to resuscitate both hexameter and pentameter and to include these new schemes in the Italian system. By doing so, he was able to produce various lengths of complex meters211 with pattern of stresses which he fixed in a few typical forms appearing in his Odi barbare. Giovanni Pascoli—the most eminent poet of the following generation—was to suggest that one could speak about Carducci’s authored versification, which would have nothing to do with potential Italian pentameters or hexameters. The most interesting aspect of Carducci’s Odi barbare is his attempt to restore the classical meters in a Romance versification.212 This purpose cannot be achieved mechanically, so Carducci formulated a proposal of renewal for Italian poetry. In the mature stage of

207 The existing Italian verses were treated as a flexible basis. However, the effect is not an accentual-syllabic verse. 208 In the opening of the present part of our monograph we analyze the link between his patterns of stresses and the rhetorical devices from the point of view of their litanic qualities. The origin of this experimentation is in the Renaissance. Other poets who inspired Carducci were Giovanni Fantoni and Niccolò Tommaseo. Cf. Bausi, Martelli, 250, 252. 209 Ed. Giosuè Carducci, La poesia barbara nei secoli XV e XVI (Bologna: Zanichelli, 1881), now an anastatic reprint from 1985. It seems to have been intended as a first volume of a more extended study, but no further publication appeared. From Carduccis’ letters, we know that the poet–professor also studied the versification of i.e. Tommaso Campanella. 210 Cf. Carpi, Carducci, 30. 211 By this expression we mean long lines which exceed the hendecasyllable and can be subdivided into inner, shorter meters, which are known to the Italian system. Carducci does not establish a unique Italian meter which could correspond to the hexameter. 212 As we remember, in his canzonette Gabriello Chiabrera attempted to find rhythmical correspondences to the metrical patterns of classical poetry.

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his poetics he abandoned what he called “iambic” poetry in favour of “barbaric” poetry. Luigi Baldacci defined this metrical system as neoclassical, rather than “barbaric.”213 Carducci’s renewal was taken up and reworked by further generations of poets—never would it be simply reproduced. We shall introduce the repertory of the main meters and types of stanzas used by Carducci in his Odi barbare: i. Sapphic meter (stanzas of 3 hendecasyllables + a five-syllable line); ii. Alcaic meter (stanzas of 2 hendecasyllables composed of a paroxytone fivesyllable and propaoxytone five-syllable line + nine-syllable with a pattern of stresses of an Alcaic enneasyllable + Alcaic decasyllable); iii. elegiac meter (couplets imitating the hexameter composed of five- or six- or seven-syllable line + nine-syllable line with a particular patterns of stresses); iv. Asclepiad meter (stanzas of 3 lesser Asclepiad composed each out of 2 proparoxytone five-syllable lines + glyconic or a proparoxytone seven-syllable line); v. minor meters alternating iambic and dactylic verses; other hexametric imitations; iambic meters; combinations of the previously mentioned patterns; others. In his odes Carducci composed lines which by the standards of Italian tradition are rather long and can be perceived as prose-like. A general tendency to lengthen the verse was operative during the late decades of the century, and Carducci was one of the most interesting exponents of this trend.214 Subsequently, similar experiments on versification were carried out independently by Giovanni Pascoli and, in his youth, by Gabriele d’Annunzio.215 In the two books of Carducci’s odes the stylistic aspect is quite homogeneous, while there are several topics: first, we observe a melancholy nostalgia for the ancient glories of Rome. In Carducci’s vision those ancient values indicate a model for the young Italian state, which should redeem itself from the present spiritual

213 Baldacci, “Giosue Carducci,” 24. Carducci was convinced that both the aim and the result would seem barbaric to the classical ear. The title Odi barbare is an expression of this awareness. 214 The best known theoretical work on the argument was published by Gian Pietro Lucini in 1908: Il verso libero. Lucini himself was an insightful forerunner of certain twentieth-century literary movements, and a talented poet, as the writers and critics of the following generations would agree. 215 Other authors experimented with meters, but here we mean those who experimented specifically with the meters deemed “barbaric.”

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and artistic misery. In the second book Carducci observes living persons and actual events of personal and common life. He also tries to connect the ruins of the ancient culture to a human, personal sentiment of decline and death, which is coming to him, as we read in “Nevicata,” the last original poem that ends the collection together with a poem-envoy.216 We may observe, then, that the political and civic interests of Carducci weaken during the years of composition of his “barbaric” odes.

23.1  Invocative and Iterative Patterns The collection of “barbaric” odes by Carducci is not very rich in rhetorical patterns related to repetition. We do not find frequent anaphoras or enumerations, namely the most prominent elements that make up the litanic character of the genre. Because in the late decades of the nineteenth century Italian poetry underwent deep changes, Carducci’s odes also manifest other aspects which can be interesting from the point of view of their litanic qualities. Instead of repetitive schemes, the invocation, or the call, becomes a strong vehicle for the construction of the sacrum. For the Libro I we can speak about august addressees who are not Christian. The religious connotation is present, but it remains in the shadows. We remember that Carducci was known as an anti-clerical writer.217 In the Libro II among the number of invoked addressees are many women. We will observe that in both cases what establishes a possible litanic association is not simply the presence of an invocation—which could be explained by reference to the classical poetry imitated by Carducci in the collection—but the simultaneous presence of antonamasias, attributes, and circumlocutions that accompany the places, abstract entities, and persons that are invoked. We shall analyze several odes starting with “Ideale” (“Ideal”)218 an Alcaic meter,219 in which Hebe is invoked four times, in the third lines of four out of 216 The book opens with “Preudio,” and closes with “Congedo.” A section of five translations from Klopstock and von Platen follow. 217 In his vision the medieval Christian culture corrupted the glory of Antiquity. In order to unify the state, in the final stage of the Risorgimento Italian forces laid siege to Rome (the so-called “capture of Rome”), the capital of the Papal State. After the capture of the city the pope declared himself a political prisoner. Now, Carducci at the time of Odi barbare was an official bard of the new Italy, but his anti-clerical attitude dated back to his youth. 218 Carducci, Odi barbare, 8–10. 219 The types of the meters always refer to the list given above. To offer a complex vision of the interpretation of Carducci’s verses, according to Bausi, Martelli 251 in the

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eight stanzas. We should have a hiatus between the first two vowels,220 and a fixed set of stresses, a fact that emphasizes the invocation to the goddess of youth and cupbearer of ambrosia. This pattern, together with the syllabic measure, is also kept in the stanzas in which the invocation does not occur. As Luigi Baldacci observes, the presence of the dialefe (the dialoepha, a hiatus between the last vowel of a word, and the opening vowel of the following one, which otherwise are metrically counted as a single syllable) strongly influences the shape of the nine-syllable lines;221 the invocation strengthens the nine-syllabic pattern. In line three of the opening stanza we note an apparent circumlocution, “con passo di dea” (“with the step of a goddess”)—in fact, it is only an isolated fragment of a longer sentence extending across two stanzas—which recalls the classical tradition rather than any litanic scheme. In the analyzed lines of the ode the invocations are not followed by attributes. At the same time, starting from the fourth stanza we have no more calls to Hebe. In the second part of the poem the goddess is connoted through attributes that resemble Marian and biblical ones, such as “nitida / stella,” (ll. 17–18, “limpid star”) and “la dolce fanciulla di Jesse” (l. 23, “the sweet maiden of Jesse”). In the stanzaic order, the second description occupies the metrical position of the invocation and reproduces its rhythmical memory. This may indicate a deep and rare link with the rhythmic memory of litanic prayer. A frequent use of similar devices is observable in a poem from the second book of odes (Libro II). This verse was written on the occasion of Carducci’s daughter’s wedding. “Per le nozze di mia figlia” (“For the wedding of my daughter”)222 includes several invocations to and attributes of the bride, as personal traits during her youth: “tu mia colomba” (“you, my dove,” l. 9), “tu parvola” (“you tiny child,” l. 17), “pensosa vergine” (“thoughtful maiden,” l. 25) “o mia figlia” (“oh my daughter,” l. 35). These segments occupy up to half of the lines in which they occur (the last-quoted invocation is part of a nine-syllable interpretation of the Alcaic enneasyllable) and work together to strengthen the symmetry of the versification. What varies is the position of these elements, which can be placed at the beginning, in the middle or at the end of the lines. poem discussed here we are dealing with an imitative scheme of the antique meter proposed by Chiabrera. 220 Following the commentary by Valgimigli. 221 Baldacci, “Giosue Carducci,” 25: “Ma se tali versi sono nominalmente novenari possiamo, eliminando la dialefe valutarli come ottonari in 4. e 7. […]”. Fausto Curi points out the presence of the same phenomenon in Carducci’s hexameters. Cf. Curi, “Manzoni, Carducci, Lucini,” 269. 222 Carducci, Odi barbare, 272–4.

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Solemn apostrophes accompanied by more repetitive orders—not always used to construct the metrical anaphoras—are present in “Nell’annuale della fondazione di Roma” (“For the anniversary of the foundation of Rome”)223 The ode addresses Rome, using the expressions “O Roma” (l. 8; “Oh Rome”), “Salve, dea Roma” (ll. 17, 21; “Hail, goddess Rome”), and “madre de i popoli” (l. 26; “mother of the peoples”). In an invocation, “O Italia, o Roma!” (l. 45; “Oh, Italy, oh Rome!”), the subject puts on the same level Italy and Ancient Rome. The goddess Rome is also called “santa genitrice” (l. 24; “holy mother”), which puts the attributes of the city close to those of the Blessed Virgin. At the same time, these expressions accompany short anaphoric-repetitive patterns which change throughout the poem. The passage which is closest to the rhetorical set of litanies lists three ages over which Italy would triumph (ll. 42–43: “su l’età nera, su l’età barbara, / su i mostri;” “over the black age, over the barbaric age, / over the monsters”)—this enumeration occurs in the eleventh stanza. It prepares the culmination of the ode, which opens with the invocation (l. 45). The Alcaic meter224 that characterizes the versification of both poems225 is also present in “Alla vittoria. Tra le rovine del tempio di Vespasiano in Brescia” (“To Victory. At the ruins of the temple of Vespasian in Brescia”)226 a poem inspired by a statue from Brescia. An invocation set in the middle part of the opening line supports a long apostrophe to Victory, whose turn to speak arrives in the last three stanzas of the text. In line 35 the statue addresses Italy,227 listing in four lines the merits of the town of Brescia (ll. 37–40): Lieta del fato Brescia raccolsemi, Brescia la forte, Brescia la ferrea, Brescia leonessa228 d’Italia beverata nel sangue nemico.

223 Ibid., 20–3. 224 To give his opinion about the appropriateness of adapting classical meters to Italian versification, in 1877 the poet wrote to his lover (a married woman) at the time, whose name was Lidia, « E chi dice che la nostra lingua non è adatta a quei metri è una canaglia di giumento a cui bisogna dare la paglia di Arcadia e bastonate la mattina all’alba […]. » Ibid., 31. 225 In the second ode we do not establish any link between metrical aspects and litanic qualities. 226 Carducci, Odi barbare, 32–6. 227 In the fifth stanza the subject imagines words of the statue addressed to the people. 228 The lion is the city emblem of Brescia. Gabriele d’Annunzio also remembers this nickname in an invocation to the town. Cf. “Città del silenzio. Brescia,” in Gabriele d’Annunzio, Versi d’amore e di gloria, eds. Annamaria Andreoli and Niva Lorenzini (Milan: Mondadori: 1984), 400.

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In the opening couplet, the praising enumerations expressed in five-syllabic (paroxytone and proparoxytone) hemistichs are emphasized by frequent repetition of the name of the city. The pattern of stresses (on the second and fourth syllables), which is reproduced in each hemistich across the two lines, involves all the elements of the list. This fact increases the cohesion of the final part as no other passage of the ode, for here the formal unity bases on the regularity of the rhythm.229 The same metrical type is proposed in “Scoglio di Quarto” (“Reef of Quarto”)230 an ode rich in direct invocations to Italy, which is described through litanic attributes that generate longer circumlocutions. In the fourth stanza the invocative mood begins. Together with the title it introduces an account of the Expedition of the Thousand.231 While the opening part of the poem evokes images of the sea on which a night sky gazes, with the moon and the star of love, Venus, starting in the fourth stanza historical events and figures are recalled. Let us read how this part opens (ll. 13–16): fisa guatando l’astro di Venere. Italia, Italia, donna de i secoli, de’ vati e de’ martiri donna, inclita vedova dolorosa,

One may note that the invocation, together with the attributes that follow, recall the rhetorical aspects of the litany. At the same time in the rhythm of these lines a variable scheme is aimed at, so the rhetorical purpose does not coincide with metrical factors. We find a similar passage in the eleventh stanza of the ode. The list, which is quoted below, undoubtedly points out an important moment within the text (ll. 41–44): E tu ridevi, stella di Venere, stella d’Italia, stella di Cesare: non mai primavera più sacra d’animi italici illuminasti,

In the opening two lines, the attributes thrice repeat a unique pattern of stresses, as we have previously seen also in “Alla vittoria.” This time the list is not supported by 229 As it seems, at least partially, the formal unity also derives from the syntactic aspect of the ode—the major periods are linked to the segmentation of the poem in fourline stanzas. 230 Carducci, Odi barbare, 140–4. 231 In 1860 it was led by Garibaldi. The expedition was one of the crucial events of the Italian Risorgimento.

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an invocation; it rather represents a solitary effort to communicate with an absent interlocutor. Yet it preserves a strong link with the excerpt previously examined. It is worth noting that in this ode the attributes focus on the image of a star, which could be deemed Christian, even if in the present case it is associated with the initial appeal to Venus. Although religious language is in play—the poem speaks about a most sacred spring, with which an “Olympic” light upon victory and sacrifice232 is associated—it is accompanied by continued references to the classical tradition. In Carducci’s civil poetry the religious connotation is less important than the classical. Nevertheless, traces of spiritual and litanic discourse can be found, even if the intended goals are not related to Christian sacrum. We shall now consider Alcaic meter from the second book of Odi barbare. One of the most well-known poems from the collection is “Alla stazione. In una mattina d’autunno” (“At the train station. On a morning in autumn”)233 an ode to Lidia, a name used as eponym for the poet’s beloved at that stage of his life. If, as Valgimigli argues, the poem is subdivided into groups of three stanzas, the litanic part occupies the penultimate section (ll. 37–44). O viso dolce di pallor roseo, o stellanti occhi di pace, o candida tra’ floridi ricci inchinata pura fronte con atto soave! Fremea la vita nel trepid’aere, fremea l’estate quando mi arrisero; e il giovine sole di giugno si piacea di baciar luminoso

In these two stanzas we find a triple invocation to the beloved’s visage, which goes back to the Dantean-Petrarchan model of sweetness, peace, innocence, and purity, which in turn originated with the Marian discourse. These traits are associated with the aspects of the woman, her eyes, and brow. We can also note that the third invocation includes enjambment, a fact that breaks up the sequence of calls opening the lines. A couplet based on anaphoric repetitions follows. To conclude, while in the invocative stanza we do not find a unique pattern of stresses, the subsequent anaphoric repetition implies a repetitive scheme of opening hemistichs. The litanic effect is mostly created by the invocations, on which the

232 The second event recalled in the poem is the landing at Sapri (1857), which failed after a few days. It was led by Carlo Pisacane. 233 Carducci, Odi barbare, 205–8.

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anaphoric couplet is built up. Once again, this outcome is not derived from the versification of the poem as a whole. Carducci dedicated to Lidia another ode, entitled “Ruit hora,”234 which is in iambic meter235 and composed of eight four-line stanzas. The invocative model is here widely operative. In some places it is also accompanied by attributes. The addressee is the beloved, and parts of her body are described through direct or figurative phrases. A desire for solitude in the countryside accompanies the subject (ll. 1–4): O desïata verde solitudine lungi al rumor de gli uomini! qui due con noi divini amici vengono, vino ed amore, o Lidia. Deh, come ride nel cristallo nitido Lieo, l’eterno giovine! come ne gli occhi tuoi, fulgida Lidia, trionfa amore e sbendasi!

These opening stanzas fix the points at which invocations to Lidia occur throughout the ode, excerpt for the closing stanza. In the fourth stanza, the invocation is simply extended (“o bianca Lidia,” “oh white Lidia,” l. 13) and moved to the first part of the unit. Throughout the poem, this line represents the only case of an opening of a stanza in which the type of hendecasyllable is not proparoxytone. Considering that the greater number of stanzas present a symmetrical subdivision, both invocations are placed in the second part, namely either the penultimate or the ultimate line of each stanza. In this way a formula is created, which concerns the two types of verse that are used in the poem. Carducci transposed into the Italian system the iambic trimeter as a proparoxytone hendecasyllable, while the iambic dimeter became a proparoxytone or paroxytone seven-syllable. In fact, the presence of the invocation in the latter metrical type decides the paroxytone type of this verse. The situation changes in the closing stanza, in which the addressee is not directly invoked. Instead, this part is characterized by a sequence of antonomasias directed to Lidia (ll. 29–32): E precipita l’ora. O bocca rosea, schiuditi: o fior de l’anima, o fior del desiderio, apri i tuoi calici: o care braccia, apritevi.

234 Ibid., 200–2. 235 His metrical model is the book of Epodes by Horace.

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The praising expressions found at the end of two opening lines follow a similar pattern of stresses, and so do those that occupy the closing two lines.236 In the second book of his “barbaric” odes Carducci published another iambic meter, which includes attributes and invocations. This was “Canto di marzo” (“Song written in March”)237 in which two relevant phenomena are observable. The first concerns the presence of invocations in the form of attributes—such a scheme can be defined as litanic—which are accompanied by calls-periphrases, as in the following lines (ll. 11–13): — O salïenti da’ marini pascoli vacche del cielo, grige e bianche nuvole, versate il latte da le mamme tumide

Only the final stanza is decidedly invocative. Let us quote the fragment, which emphasizes the calls by putting them at the ends of four out of five lines (ll. 26–30): Chinatevi al lavoro, o validi omeri; schiudetevi agli amori, o cuori giovani; impennatevi a i sogni, ali de l’anime; irrompete a la guerra, o desii torbidi: ciò che fu torna e tornerà ne i secoli.

Within this excerpt a four-line enumeration is established. The transgression of the rules of Italian versification is here minor, and the invocation does not interfere with the standard ways of composing hendecasyllables.238 The reason for this is the perhaps slightly veiled position of the invocations, which are set at the ends rather than beginnings of the lines, as in other poems we have been discussing. Moreover, in these specifically “iambic” lines239 the pattern of stresses is not exactly defined—even in the invocative expressions—so the ancient link between the litanic invocations and the iambic pattern is not relevant in Carducci’s ode.240 The second interesting phenomenon is an anaphoric sequence which is found in the fourth stanza. The repetitive phrase “Così cantano i…” (“So sing the…,” ll. 16–17) comes back, compressed to “così”, in line 19. The repetitive and 236 In the third line of this stanza a secondary stress on the fourth syllable can be observed. 237 Carducci, Odi barbare, 245–8. 238 The hendecasyllables are here all of the proparoxytone type. 239 Following Valgimigli, the lines should reproduce iambic trimeters. 240 We mean the link that was present in the medieval lauda. As we remember, it usually concerned the opening parts of the lines.

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invocative devices make up to a certain degree for the less strict framework of stresses,241 especially because this is a short, thirty-line ode. We shall now give an overview of the longest meters used by Carducci in his Ode barbare. The poet defined them as elegiac, associating their lengths and schemes with the ancient hexameters.242 One of the original poems that close the collection243 is “Presso l’urna di Percy Bysshe Shelley” (“Close to the urn of Percy Bysshe Shelley”).244 It is composed of a sequence of couplets which are a transposition of hexameters accompanied by pentameters. In our “barbaric” ode Carducci inserts invocations to Lalage, who also recalls Horace’s carmina.245 There are few patterns which can be defined as litanic, but their character is anaphoric and together invocative. This concerns the opening line of the poem, in which the female companion is apostrophized, as is the abstract entity of the stanzas (“O strofe,” “Oh stanzas,” l. 9), Antigone (the pure, l. 23), and Shelley himself (“spirit of Titan,” l. 42), and the final four couplets, which we quote below (ll. 45–52): O cuor de’ cuori, sopra quest’urna che freddo ti chiude odora e tepe e brilla la primavera in fiore. O cuor de’ cuori, il sole divino padre ti avvolge de’ suoi raggianti amori, povero muto core. Fremono freschi i pini per l’aura grande di Roma: tu dove sei, poeta del liberato mondo? Tu dove sei? m’ascolti? Lo sguardo mio umido fugge oltre l’aurelïana cerchia su ’l mesto piano.

241 It is quite difficult to interpret a part of the lines from the perspective of the traditional metrical standards of Italian poetry. 242 In 1877, Carducci explained to his friend Adolfo Borgognoni how such a transposition could be achieved: “la prima metà è un senario o un settenario o anche un quinario, la seconda un novenario; per il pentametro è un quinario e un settenario, o due settenari […]. Tutto sta in un certo accordo degli accenti, che corrisponde poi anche a’ sei piedi della metrica antica.” Cf. Carducci, Odi barbare, 209–10. 243 The ode dedicated to Shelley belongs to the final section of the second book of Barbaric Odes. The entire collection ends with a sequence of translations from German poets (“Versioni”). 244 Ibid., 276–83. 245 It is another woman who appears in the book, the lady who accompanied the poet to the grave of Shelly in Rome. Within the collection Lalage appears five times and may connote other women. For Carducci’ interest in Horace’s naming at that stage of his work, see Mario Saccenti, “Lalage nel cimitero degli inglesi,” Italianistica: Rivista di letteratura italiana, vol. 34, No. 1(2005): 67–8.

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While the calling can be interpreted in a litanic framework—the addressee is here replaced by an antonomasia—the second anaphoric order connotes only a sorrowful, reiterated asking. As for the opening apostrophe to Lalage, we might expand our analysis to include another ode from the collection. In “Sirmione”246 (Libro I) the subject talks to the same addressee (ll. 25, 50, 57), even if the latter does not appear in the opening of the poem. Catullus is the second receiver, who is directly mentioned (ll. 35–46). The nymph who speaks in this segment organizes the discourse in a sequence of anaphoric couplets which can recall a prayer. We quote an excerpt: (ll. 37–40): Qui ne le nostre grotte discende anche il sole, ma bianco e mite come Cintia. Qui de la vostra vita gli assidui tumulti un lontano d’api sussurro paiono,

As we know, Carducci condemned Christian culture in the belief that it had been responsible for the disappearance of the glory of Ancient Rome. Nevertheless, this feeling did not prevent him from using some rhetorical elements of Christian prayers (including litanic prayer) in order to sacralize his poetical universe. In a general perspective, the invocations expressed in the elegiac meters of Odi barbare involve exalted addressees—never living persons—which are invoked with solemn gravity. This allows us to speak about a religious attitude in these odes, even if for Carducci the Christian heritage is not a matter of direct interest.247 Composing his “barbaric” odes, Carducci wanted to found a new religion based on a new spiritual connection with the distant past. And in this context some features of the Christian spiritual discourse contribute to his rhetoric.

23.2 Conclusions To conclude we would like to stress the intermittent presence of short, local litanies in one of the most important collections of Carducci’s poetry. The association of the civil spirit with an innovative metrical project does not yield many repetitive schemes. In a litanic perspective, the invocation is the most relevant element in influencing the articulation of rhythmical patterns. In some cases it does, in others it does not. Nevertheless, in Carducci’s odes we can find places where the litanic devices are clear—in certain odes there is a coincidence of metrical and 246 Carducci, Odi barbare, 112–7. 247 Nevertheless, in “A Giuseppe Garibaldi” we read “Gloria a te, padre,” which belongs to the liturgy and Christian prayers. Ibid., 133–8, l. 45.

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rhetorical factors. Moreover, when anaphoras appear they produce the homeoteleuta, compensating in some way for the absence of rhymes. Certainly this effect is not the first concern of the poet, but its presence, found throughout the collection of odes, reminds us of litanic recitation in which the phrasal coherence is the most important formal aspect. The identity of sound is secondary and it is assigned to the opening parts of the lines. In Carducci’s odes, litanic devices can appear together or separately and they can produce (or not) a coherent effect. We believe that these elements identify passages which are relevant for the internal balance of textual parts, even when the litanic intention could hardly have been pursued over an entire ode.

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Part IV:  Around the Twentieth-Century Experimentations

24  The Early Years To conclude our examination it is necessary to open a new part devoted to experimental poetry, which had been increasing in prominence starting with the last decades of the nineteenth century. Other parts of the present monograph consider poems written up to the 1930s when they represent traditional genres. Concurrently, from the early years of the twentieth century, in all the arts there was an important tendency to experiment with expressive means—and this cannot be analyzed together with the forms of continuity. In fact, the works which will be here discussed open a new epoch, during which old formal assumptions are gradually discarded. Up to 1909, we witness an evolution of poetic means— together with litanic ones—and the transformation concerns both topics and the linguistic register together with certain metrical questions. It is Futurism that represents the moment of definitive breakdown, but it is important to understand that the movement did not come out of nowhere. Its roots, as far as poetry is concerned, were in experiences that refused traditional versification, the rhyme, which undertook experiments in rhythm, and free verse. Another factor was a fresh, graphic look on the page, which was transformed into a new, visual space to be filled. Finally, during the nineteenth century poetry had accepted new linguistic registers and topics, and came to be ready to “praise” contents which were low from the thematic and semantic point of view.1 This development did not left aside litanic qualities and devices. On the contrary, these characteristics were relevant for the birth of contemporary poetry, being first interestingly interpreted and then used to launch new genres and brand new topics, and to focus on new purposes in the literary discourse. In a fragmentary manner all the experiments from the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries led to the advent of the first avant-garde. The persistence of litanic links in this period is analyzed in the works of Aldo Palazzeschi and Corrado Govoni. Subsequently, the first stage of Futurism is discussed through focus on its central figure, Tommaso Filippo Marinetti, who published collective and single authored works. Poetic experiences which do not belong to the movement, but are born as a consequence of Italian and French trends of these two decades, are examined in the poetry of Giuseppe Ungaretti. He is the most interesting poet 1 It does not mean that the Italian poetry of the previous eras had admitted only high, sacred, romantic, or civil topics. It means that those contents belonged to specific genres or fields of discourse and were not part of the so-called aulic poetry.

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to have emerged in those decades—his artistic endeavor directed later poetry to an essentiality which appears against a background of silence.2 In his apparently bare poetry, the force and incisiveness of litanic techniques is freshly exploited. With Ungaretti’s second collection begins the restoration of the spiritual character of litanic discourse in poetry. This last part of the present monograph introduces issues related to contemporary poetry. It ends with the 1930s, so the problems of contemporary poetry are here only outlined. To observe the long-term effects of these early experiments, which include litanic qualities and develop new litanic techniques, a separate study devoted only to the last century would be necessary.

24.1  Aldo Palazzeschi’s Repetitive Modules Palazzeschi’s early works are among the most original poetry of the first half of the twentieth century. Especially in his early books of poems he creates a personal style, which is often associated with that of the “twilight poets,”3 even if we are dealing here with a “borderline” artistic personality.4 On the other hand, Palazzeschi is part of the ‘twilight’ school only if we recognize its heterogeneous character, at least as far as the poetry analyzed in the present monograph is concerned. In fact, scholars speak about an “extraordinary independence”5 from Italian tradition. Palazzeschi had a long career as a poet and novelist and author of short stories. In this part of our study we will discuss his early poetry. Later Palazzeschi became a Futurist6 and a close friend of Filippo Tommaso Marinetti. Nevertheless, the use of litanic techniques belongs to the first decade of the century, while the futuristic works by Palazzeschi generally do not present patterns that could be associated with the argument of the present work. In the litanic perspective we will try to read his first collection of poems, entitled Cavalli bianchi and published in 1905, together with the second one, Lanterna (1907), and the third, Poemi (1909). Palazzeschi’s early style is based on short, 2 Cf. Stefano Agosti, Grammatica della poesia. Cinque studi (Naples: Guida Editori, 2007), 119. 3 The so-called “poeti crepuscolari.” 4 Meant as those who “widen fields of poetic experimentation” after Francesca Berbardini Napoletano, “Poetiche e scritture sperimentali,” in Alberto Asor Rosa, Letteratura italiana del Novecento. Bilancio di un secolo (Turin: Einaudi, 2000), 324. Unless otherwise indicated, translations are mine. In other cases it is indicated in a footnote. 5 Adele Dei, “Introduzione,” in Aldo Palazzeschi, Tutte le poesie (Milan: Mondadori, 2002), XXXIV. 6 In 1914 he published a tragicomic Futurist manifesto entitled Controdolore.

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non-canonical meters and non-stanzaic forms. The language is quite simple, ironic, derisive, and caricatural. The world is often interpreted through unusual sensations, like those of a child with a mature consciousness. Both dialogues and monologues are frequent in Palazzeschi’s poetry of the early and later periods. At the same time there often seems to be a mere sequence of asking and answering instead of a real dialogue—this might be a modern way to interpret the responsiveness that is a quality of the litanic prayers. Cristina Terrile observes that the character of Palazzeschi’s poetry is anti-lyrical and theatrical.7 We are convinced that these features present a reciprocal link with the ways in which the position of the subject is discursively represented. For Terrile, the “I” has to be claimed again and again: Incapace di postulare il proprio io a priori, come individualità autonoma, lo scrittore si offre difensivamente al mondo come assenza, come disponibilità a diventare altro, per reazione agli altri.8

Moreover, as Adele Dei argues, the personal style of our poet is visible also in the search for his poetic ancestors: Fatti tutti i riscontri, nessuna parentela, nessuna suggestione appare veramente fondante o risolutiva e anche la questione dei raggruppamenti e delle etichette, su cui molto è stato dibattuto […], sembra di rilievo secondario di fronte a una poesia nata già perfettamente riconoscibile […].9

Terrile notes the importance of representations of ritual events,10 while Dei speaks about Catholic celebrations and Christological references.11 Among Palazzeschi’s pre-Futuristic poems it is not difficult to note echoes of prayers, starting from the titles. In fact, “Rosario” (“Rosary”)12 is a parody of the rosary in which take part, among others, a queen, a parrot, and an astronomer. The reference to the rosary is formal. The poem exploits a subdivision of roles which can be assumed during the recitation of the rosary, but it is necessary to stress also the theatricality of the initial idea.13 7 Cristina Terrile, Palazzeschi (Naples: Guida Editori, 2016), 18–9. These two trends are complementary. In fact, “la posizione e la definizione del soggetto risultano instabili e alterne.” Ibid., 8. 8 Ibid., 10. 9 Dei, “Introduzione,” XXIV–V. 10 Terrile, Palazzeschi, 22. 11 Dei, “Introduzione,” XXXVI. 12 Palazzeschi, Tutte le poesie, 51–4. 13 It is known that in those years Palazzeschi studied theatre acting.

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We shall start our analysis from Palazzeschi’s first collection. Among the poems of Cavalli bianchi we do not find many texts which exploit litanic patterns. A childish language, which takes advantage of repetitive forms, can be found in “La vasca delle anguille” (“The pond of eels”)14 This short stychic poem can be subdivided into four parts each composed of a three-line opening, an iterative fixed formula, which can be compared to a refrain, and two two-line anaphoric repetitions, which are alternated by the mentioned formula. In the anaphoric couplets the adjective changes (first line), while in the second line a list of two elements replaces the epithet. Here is an excerpt (ll. 8–10): Son buone le anguille, più buone del pane e del miele, si dice, sta intorno nel giorno la gente a pescare a la canna.

The poem closes with the mentioned formula, while an impersonal stock phrase (“si dice,” “people say”) is added to complete the anaphoric line which accepts more components, and each of them can vary. As there are no traditional metrical patterns, what gains relevance is the first of the quoted lines, which presents the same scheme of stresses (ll. 5, 8). This line follows the refrain. As we remember, forms provided with a refrain do not easily accept litanic repetitions, especially if we consider short poems. In this perspective, the poem we have here analyzed represents an exception. “Il castello dei fantocci” (“The castle of puppets”)15 a twenty-five-line poem of the same stanzaic type, contains two refrains and a list. These two elements appear first time and then are repeated in its entirety at the end of the text. The frequency of iterative components is here too high for a litanic interpretation. The repetition is not a simple loop, as the order of the refrains can be reversed, but the insistence on certain parts of the poem is too high, even for the litany. In fact, the text manifests a parodistic quality. Lanterna, the second collection of Palazzeschi’s poems, is richer in experiments which involve litanic devices, the first of these being iterative. Their presence is not symmetric in “Festa grigia” (“Celebration of grey”).16 The poem contains different types of repetitions, which consist of alliterations, anaphoras, epiphoras, and phrases placed inside lines and then repeated in more relevant, opening or closing metrical positions, and a refrain, which appears irregularly in the poem (“La/la festa del grigio è stamane,” “This morning there is a jubilation of grey,” present in ll. 3, 17, 33). “Festa grigia” is slightly longer than the previous texts 14 Palazzeschi, Tutte le poesie, 23. 15 Ibid., 28. 16 Ibid., 44.

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(thirty-three lines), but both the density and the richness of the iterative components are higher. There is an epiphoric, fixed element, “di piombo” (ll. 4, 8). There are two anaphoras: the first of them occupies a line which comes back extended after two lines (“Rasentan le mura,” “Rasentan le mura silenti,” “they graze the wall,” “they graze the silent wall,” ll. 18, 21). The short passage between lines 18 and 21 seems to be isolated from the rest of the poem. There is an anaphora which organizes the final part of the poem. It opens with a line which appeared at the beginning (l. 6). Here is the closing part of “Festa grigia” (ll. 25–33): La strada è ravvolta nel grigio silenzio. L’invito argentino si tace. Più nulla. La Messa incomincia. Più ratte rasentan le mura le brune mantiglie, più rade si fanno ed il passo ne cessa. Soltanto la nebbia leggera tranquilla rimane al suo giorno di festa: la festa del grigio è stamane!

In this passage the anaphoric elements are accompanied by other phrases which change each time. At the same time they are connected with other repetitive phrases, which have occurred in the previous part of the poem. These come back in the final passage in both strong (occupying an entire line) and less prominent metrical positions (following the anaphoric element). Here there is a concentration of iterative elements. Among them we find anaphoras. The litanic recall, when present, is really weak and exploited almost en passant as one of several techniques in use. If “Festa grigia” manifests any link with the prayer, the repetitions of “Gioco proibito”17 are dense but lacking any litanic-like echo. The reason is not the irregular position of the repetitive components, but the narrative—we mean spoken—nature of the poem. As we have seen in other verses, the anaphora, in its litanic type, focuses a character, a feature. It fixes a particular point of a text, slowing down any kind of narrative momentum.18

17 Ibid., 55. 18 “Talvolta vi passan leggeri nei manti fioriti; / vi passano lenti cangianti splendenti. / S’arrestano i volti talora, / s’arrestan, più chiari si fanno, / vi splende d’un tratto uno sguardo:” (ibid., ll. 16–20). The traits of the faces are enumerated in the second quoted line, but it is not enough to define the text as litanic. Here a narrative-like character is what remains in a paraphrasis of a poem. We are convinced that the high litanic character of any poem can be related to a certain difficulty of paraphrasing it. Perhaps it

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In the book entitled Lanterna we also find litanic enumerations. In “La veglia de le tristi” (“The vigil of the sad women”)19 a group of seven sad women meet in a silent motionless vigil (“Immobili e mute,” l. 48). Here is the list of the participants (ll. 27–33): Ginnasia Contessa di Borgo Silenzio, Meriga Contessa di Casa Lontana, Corrada Contessa di Valle Pallingo, Venanzia Contessa di Vasta Palude, Romilda Contessa di Lago d’Argento, Piccarda Contessa di Piccolo Dolo, Marraia Contessa di Dolo Maggiore.

The model is the Litany of the Saints, with the title of a rank, a name, and a place (e.g. “San Francesco di Sales”), but the tone is mocking, as can easily be inferred from both the names of the countess, which are excessively refined, and the place names, which recall distance, absence, silence, boredom, and little importance. We note an exact rhythmical module which is repeated in all the lines of the passage, except for the penultimate one. In early twentieth-century, poetry this is a rare case of the coincidence of use of both metrical and rhetorical-litanic devices. As in some other cases we have undertaken to analyze, we observe that Palaz­ zeschi’s versification is based on three-syllable modules.20 The passage which is quoted above contains lines that can be divided into two parts. Each of them has two modules, which carry amphibrachic patterns of stresses. The formula makes this meter extremely regular. The poems which have been mentioned above contain elements of this scheme as well. The collection of Poemi opens with a clear Christian reference. A short poem entitled “Il segno” (“The sign”)21 with its final call “Salve Crux pretiosa” (l. 9), would be clearer to say that a paraphrasis of a litanic component, which is very short, might be very long, as if certain brief litanic phrases concealed narrative potential. 19 Ibid., 59–60. 20 Scholars emphasize the strong presence of verses with a strong dactylic pattern of stresses, e.g. in the nine-syllable. Cf. Stefano Giovanardi, “Metrica: tra norma e interpretazione,” in Rosa, Letteratura italiana del Novecento, 272–3. Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo, “Su una costante ritmica della poesia di Palazzeschi,” in La tradizione del Novecento: da D’Annunzio a Montale (Milan: Feltrinelli, 1975), 217–41. About the amphibrach in Palazzeschi’s “Fontana malata” and the poet’s general trisyllabic trend, see Antonio Pietropaoli, Poesie in libertà: Govoni, Palazzeschi, Soffici (Naples: Guida Editori, 2003), 125–131. Cf. also Aldo Menichetti, Metrica italiana: fondamenti metrici, prosodia, rima (Padua: Antenore, 1993), 435–6. 21 Palazzeschi, Tutte le poesie, 77.

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refers to the blessing of the sign of the cross. In “Ore sole”22 we find litanic attributes of the hours. These elements can be listed in a litanic manner referring to an anaphoric recall of the word “Ore” (“Hours”), which appears several times in the poem (ll. 14–21, 32–33): [Ore] Mattutine, vespertine, popolate da campane vicine e lontane. Ore del sole che non ridete a chi v’aspetta sole. Ore grigie, ore nere, silenzio delle campane vicine e lontane […] Ore della notte, ore del sole,

The poem contains a traditional litanic technique, but it is worth noting the presence of other reiterative elements, which start with the alliteration of the title, and go on with puns on words and other figures. A highly interesting technique is developed in “I ritratti delle nutrici” (“The portraits of the wet nurses”)23 where portraits of the family wet nurses are accompanied by descriptions urns containing the hair of the women. The poem is built out of lists of names, some of which are accompanied by a sequence of attributes. We shall give an excerpt (ll. 13–26):

Juliette Vichary di Marsiglia

Meravigliosa figlia, occhio celeste vivace, folta capellatura bionda.

22 Ibid., 141–2. The poem was republished by the author in Poesie. There are slight differences, but the most important is the subdivision of this initially stychic poem into stanzas. This fact underlines the structure of the text, which is, however, inferable also in the first edition. The passage from “Ore sole” which accompanies the present analysis in Poesie comprises a separate stanza. The poet also isolates a refrain which appears twice: “Ore sole come solo pane / per oggi e per dimane / e per tutti i giorni di tutte le settimane.” 23 Ibid., 156–8. Palazzeschi’s interest in the portrait is typical of the time of Poemi, as in this collection, in the opening section “Galleria Palazzeschi” we find a sub-section called “Ritratti.”

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Suor Cortese



Ortensia Viale di Borgocanale

Sguardo inflessibile, bocca ermetica, capelli fulvi cresputi. Suor Triste Hillea Haob Egiziana

The typographic organization of the poem is based on a distinction between the list of names and litanic appositions, which describe the human types depicted in the paintings. The poem describes the images. A similar strategy is adopted in “L’ultima” (“The last one”)24 where only two women are introduced (the measure of the font size is different from the remaining part of the text) and litanically described. They are “Bianca Paone / del Lago Maggiore” (“Bianca Paone / from Lake Maggiore,” ll. 1–2), and “Suor Soave” (“Sister Soave,” l. 7), who is asked to pray for the subject.25 This manner of managing the space of the page seems to be a reinterpretation of what we can find in books of prayer, where we have elements of texts which are printed in a linear, horizontal way, and others which are vertical; elements printed in bigger and smaller font sizes. The latter type is often used for repetitive phrases. Palazzeschi does not calque any existing typographic set; he rather tests new patterns.26 This manner is innovative; it announces twentiethcentury experiments with the graphic space of the page, starting with Futurism. Aldo Palazzeschi joined the avant-garde group in its earliest stages, but his futurist 24 Ibid., 159–60. 25 In the final lines the object is even confused with the Virgin Mary, so the poem has a prayer-like formula which ends the text with a translation of “Amen:” “Ti sieno lievi le mura / del chiostro, e trasparenti, / azzure come la volta / del Cielo, per te pia, / prega per la mia pace, / per la vita mia, / prega per me Maria. / Così sia.” (ll. 29–36). 26 Another possible interpretation of this set is a theatrical subdivision of roles. Even in this case we are dealing with an experiment, as apparently there is only one voice in the poem and the portraits do not speak. This aspect belongs to Palazzeschi’s experimentation on versification, which—as more than one scholar has observed—is frenetic and emerges from the possibilities of calculation of syllables (cf. Giorgio Barberi Squarotti, “Fra metro e ritmo: situazioni e problemi della metrica del Novecento,” Metrica, IV(1986): 181–208). Palazzeschi is perhaps not often acknowledged in this regard, but he is one of the initiators of free verse. Cf. Edoardo Esposito, Metrica e poesia del Novecento (Milan: Franco Angeli, 1992), 18.

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poems do not contain litanic echoes. Still, experimentation with the typographic set is important for this poet and for others who came after. In Palazzeschi we find both traditional and new litanic techniques. His poetry introduces a period in which the visual aspect of litanies would be integrated into Italian poetry.

24.2  Corrado Govoni’s Low-Register Litanies Corrado Govoni’s artistic biography covers more than half of the twentieth century, as he started to publish in 1903.27 An experimental inclination, which is especially clearly expressed in versification, at first accompanies traditional genres, like for example the sonnet. Edoardo Esposito argues that after the publication of the first collection of poems, […] nelle raccolte successive si accentua revisione della metricità tradizionale.28

In this part of our monograph we are interested in new formal solutions which arose starting from the last decade of the nineteenth century.29 Even if Francesco Targhetta speaks about […] la scarsa attitudine di Govoni verso il lavoro formale e […] svogliatezza con cui egli vi si applica30

Govoni’s long verse is extremely interesting.31 At the same time we are witnesses of certain thematic trends, which developed in all the Italian poetry of that time—the topics are not aulic anymore, the receivers are not high-registered, and the inclination to use everyday language is increasing. These points are wellacknowledged characteristics of Italian poetry at the turn of the century. Blending them with an interest in litanic prayer, Govoni created his early personal style,

27 His last book of poems, Stradario delle primavera e altre poesie, appeared in 1958. 28 Esposito, Metrica e poesia, 136. 29 Lucini is considered to be the poet who properly inaugurated twentieth-century free verse. 30 Francesco Targhetta, “Introduzione,” in Corrado Govoni, Fuochi d’artifizio, ed. Fran­ cesco Targhetta (Macerata: Quodlibet eBook, 2013). 31 “E sarà da vedere analiticamente quali trambusti ha provocato nella coscienza prosodica contemporanea l’anarchia e la dilatazione che immettono, specie nel settore della dieresi, tanti poeti fra simbolismo, crepuscolarismo e avanguardie storiche, con punte massime nel giovane Govoni […].” Cf. Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo, “Questioni metriche novecentesche,” in Forme e vicende. Per Giovanni Pozzi, eds. Ottavio Besomi et al. (Padua: Antenore, 1989), 558.

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which is first defined as depending on d’Annunzio, then on liberty32 and “twilight poetry.” Later Govoni became a Futurist poet, but that period will not be an object of our analysis. It is worth noting, though, that in the early twentieth-century context, religious references do not construct a spiritual poetry. In Govoni’s poems the reverberations of litany can be either direct (in the title or within the texts) or implied (exploitation of certain expressions and patterns). The character of the poems that involve these and other devices is sometimes burlesque, at other times serious, as far linguistic elements and topics are concerned. Govoni started “reviewing” the characters of the traditional meters33 in order to attain a complete freedom from any rule of versification in his Futurist period. As we will emphasize in the analysis, during the two first decades of the century, his poetic work manifests original associations with the litany, which involves rhythmical, rhetorical, and typographic aspects of poetry. Starting from Govoni’s first collections of poems, Gino Tellini notes: […] nel 1903, l’anno di Maia e di Canti di Castelvecchio, il Govoni diciannovenne ha inaugurato la sua carriera di poeta con Le fiale34 e Armonia in grigio et in silenzio, due libri che sono l’uno il negativo dell’altro, speculari e simmetrici, legati da un rapporto di complementarità: il primo dislocato sul versante esotico, il secondo sul registro umile.35

Le fiale contains sonnets,36 while Armonia in grigio et in silenzio combines different genres to exploit and extend the qualities of the existing forms. This is the case of the section “Rosario di conventi,” (“A rosary of the cloisters”) in which we see two main elements of Govoni’s litanic influence in his early poetry. “VI. I gatti bianchi” (“VI. The white cats”)37 is a poem in quatrains. It is provided with traditional rhymes, which follow two schemes (the pattern is abab cdda effg hiih, etc.). The litanic element, an enumeration of attributes which appears in the opening of stanzas, presents two shapes: “Gatti candidi e …” (“Candid and … cats,” ll. 1, 5, 9, 13) and “Gatti bianchi,” (“White cats, …,” ll. 17, 21, 25, 29). As one can observe, the representations are really close to one another. Another poem, 32 Gino Tellini, “Inotroduzione,” in Corrado Govoni, Poesie (1903–1958) (Milan: Mondadori, 2000), VIII. 33 Esposito, Metrica e poesia, 136. 34 The first collection by this poet. It contains mostly sonnets. “Vas luxuriae,” one of the sections of the book, calques a Marian attribute from the Latin version of the litanies of the Virgin. 35 Tellini, “Introduzione,” V. 36 Govoni’s sonnets also contain direct references to litany; we recall only one title from Le fiale, “Pietre. Decima litania,” from the cycle “Orto di devozione. Novena.” 37 Corrado Govoni, Armonia in grigio et in silenzio (Milan: Scheiwiller, 1989), 98–9.

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“XVII. Le voci de le suore” (“XVII. The voices of the nuns”)38 follows similar formal rules—the repetitive elements begin in the seventh stanza—but the list is here built up on an invocation (“O voci de le suore di clausura, / voci che sanno d’un poco di vecchio,” “O voices of the nuns of seclusion / voices which are a little bit old,” ll. 13–14). This poem represents a typical twilight-poetry topic and style. Nevertheless, as we will show, cats are more important…. In 1905 Govoni published his third book of poems, entitled Fuochi d’artifizio.39 The number of poems that have a metrically experimental character increased at this time. As time goes by the formal aspects and the language become more and more free. Repetitive patterns, which include the use of litanic devices, are important in the creation of the personal stylistic manner of our poet. The originality and richness of the topics are surprising, too, even though at that time the influence of the twilight poetics was relevant. We open with a text which condenses two litanic techniques: the anaphoric formula, placed at the beginning of the stanzas, and the list.40 We read the final stanza of “Udendo suonare dei cechi”41 (ll. 21–26): Noi siamo le implacabili illusioni, la stanchezza di tutto quello che finisce, la vanità di quello che deve sfiorire, la noia che si trova in fondo a tutte le soddisfazioni, l’agonia della speranza che non vuol morire, il pensiero che le dolcezze presto non saranno più!

In this passage litanic means are used in a regular way—each line corresponds to an element of the enumeration, while the first line is syntactically implied in the list. In the remaining stanzas we also find both the lists and the anaphoric repetition. This does not spoil the strong litanic framework of the text. Moreover, the nouns listed at the beginning of the lines are interestingly described. If traditional litanies are enhanced by short descriptions, for example through an attribute, an antonomasia, the modern ones use longer phrases.42 In his litanic poem,

38 Ibid., 122–3. 39 It is supposed that the book was published at the end of 1904. Cf. Francesco Targhetta, “Introduzione,” in Corrado Govoni, Fuochi d’artifizio, ed. Francesco Targhetta (Ma­cerata: Quodlibet eBook, 2013). 40 In other poems by Govoni we can find different types of lists. “Malinconia,” from Fuochi d’artifizio, is a verse in which a non-litanic enumeratio organizes the text. 41 Govoni, Fuochi d’artifizio. 42 In these aspects the Litany of the Saints is opposed to i.e. the Litany of the Divine Mercy.

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Govoni develops the narrative potential of a litanic list.43 Another poem which exploits a stanzaic-litanic anaphora is “Le pendole di campagna” (“Countryside pendulum clocks”).44 The stanzas of the poem contain different numbers of lines (four to sixteen). Starting from the third stanza the openings are marked with “Una / un’altra” (“One of them / Another,” ll. 29, 34, 38, 43).45 A description of four women associated with a poor, rural environment follows, which refers in some way to the chairetismic character of Marian praises. Now, in a versification which is made of irregular stanzaic units and lines, the iterative element becomes an indication of the internal subdivision of the text. This aspect is typical of the traditional use of litanic devices in poetry and their formal potential is here maintained. More traditional and local use of the litanic anaphora can be observed in the two final stanzas of “Gli organi di Barberia” (“Barbieri’s organs”),46 in which the structure of two triplets is supported by the phrases “Organi miti,” “Organi bene amati,” and “Organi dolci” (“Gentle organs,” “Beloved organs,” and “Sweet organs,” ll. 13, 15, 16). As in certain previous works, litanic reference can be explicated. Reading “Le litanie del mao” (“Litanies of the miaow”),47 we find the discursive contamination declared in the title. At the same time, the anaphora which organizes the couplets manifests a rhetorical connection with litanies (ll. 1–6): Il mao è sotto le lenzuola del mio letto, come un bambino, contro il mio cuore stretto. Il mao in una gota à due bianchi nèi… Il mao à dei baffoni più lunghi dei miei. Il mao beve il latte nella mia tazza. Il mao è furbo e ladro simile a una gazza.

43 For the narrative character of litanies, see Sadowski, Litania i poezja (Warsaw: Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2011), 72–7. 44 Govoni, Fuochi d’artifizio. 45 “Una à l’aspetto d’una florida sposina / […] / Una è una povera vecchietta paralitica / […] / Un’altra sembra qualche pettoruta contadina / […] / Un’altra fa pensare ad una vedova dimessa,” ibid. 46 Ibid. 47 Ibid. In the same collection another poem involving the “miaow” is “Crepuscolo ferrarese,” which does not present any litanic associations.

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The text has a burlesque character and low-register language, which introduces everyday elements including unreported speech. The childish language,48 which characterizes the litanic opening, in the second part of the poem even includes vulgar words. The poem is composed in thirteen-syllable lines. In “Rosario di conventi,” which has been mentioned above, we found this verse alternating with hendecasyllable.49 The origin of thirteen-syllable verse, which is rare in Italian poetry,50 has been associated with the alexandrin libéré,51 which was commonly used by Paul Verlaine and other French and Belgian poets of the same era. In the quoted passage, the meter—almost regular52—is combined with a systematic litanic anaphora. The lines quoted above begin the poem. In fact, the anaphora is limited to the analyzed excerpt. Regularity of meter is here pointed out and made recognizable for the remaining part of the poem. Gli aborti, a collection from 1907 which represents a “moment of transition,”53 is divided in two parts.54 It opens with a section of sonnets (“Le poesie d’Arlecchino”), while the second part, entitled “I cenci dell’anima,” contains more experimental poems, which contrast “anarchy,” “disorder,” “avant-garde,”55 to the more traditional sonnets of the first section. Formal experiments of that period contain litanic techniques which inform both entire poems, and individual parts of them. In Gli aborti one can observe an increasing interest on the part of the poet in rhetorical devices directly referable to litanies. Starting

48 To such a quality we include the rhymes which are aa bb cc, etc. The meters are rather long, but the poem presents no fixed scheme of versification. 49 Govoni’s hendecasyllable does not accept any traditionally existing stress pattern for this meter. Cf. Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento. Nuova serie (Florence: Vallecchi Editore, 1987), 152–65. 50 In the present poem Govoni uses the both paroxytone and apocopated type of the meter. 51 Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento. Nuova serie, 152–65. 52 Following Mengaldo the couplets are “fondamentalmente tredecasillabiche.” Ibid., 162. 53 Francesco Targhetta, “Introduzione,” in Corrado Govoni, Gli aborti. Le poesie d’Arlecchino. I cenci dell’anima (Genua: Edizioni San Marco dei Giustiniani, 2008), 8. The title itself is metapoetic, “mette in mostra le proprie sperimentazioni, esibisce le deformità, non nasconde la natura imperfetta del libro.” Although in 1907 Gli aborti was well judged for its formal audacity, Govoni later probably did not consider the collection among his best works. Ibid., 29–30. 54 In the first edition the font size is different for the two parts of the book. It is lower for “I cenci dell’anima.” This aspect is reproduced in Targhetta’s edition. 55 Targhetta, “Introduzione,” 11.

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from the poem that opens the book, “Alla musa” (“To the muse”),56 which is not included in either of the two main sections into which the book is divided, means such as invocation and enumerative anaphora are used to organize parts or entire poems. “Gli arrivi” (“The arrivals”)57 has a third-to-last stanza which is an enumeration enriched with a litanic anaphora. “Al sole” (“To the sun”)58 presents anaphoric passages that organize the text (ll. 3–5, 7, 10–11, 12, 14). “Il sole” (“The sun”)59 represents a traditional litanic type, as well. This stychic poem written in free verse60 opens with an invocation to the Sun followed by an antonomasia. Subsequently, anaphoric descriptions preceded by the phrase “tu che” are set within the text in an irregular manner (“Tu, che desti di soprassalto,” “tu che fai balzare nei cieli,” “tu, che fai piangere la neve immacolata,” “tu, che t’infiltri dalle chiuse persiane,” “tu, che mentre l’avemaria;” “Thou, who wakest with a start,” “thou, who makest jump [the skylark] in the sky,” “thou who makest cry the spotless snow,” “thou who penetratest through the shutters,” “thou, while Hail Marys;” ll. 7, 15, 20, 24, 32). In the final lines the poem presents a second anaphora based on a preposition. Similar, but stychic poem (“Il pallido sole,” “A pale sun”)61 contains an anaphora based on the comparative “come” (ll. 3, 5–7, 10–12, 14, 17–18). Here is an excerpt (ll. 15–18):

56 Govoni, Gli aborti, 45–8. In the opening line a call is put together with litanic attributes: “O dolce musa, anima mia, vita mia” (ll. 1, 45). In the final part there is an anaphoric enumeration: “Davanti alle grigie case dei poveri / dove sono i vecchi impotenti / tremanti intorno a un debole fuoco / dove sono i rachitici bambini / che piangono sui lor trastulli infranti / dove sono i pallidi convalescenti / che aspettano il sole,” (ll. 81–87). This scheme, an organizing structure for this part of the poem, is redoubled in lines 90–95. While in the quoted poem the meters are close to the tradition, the texts from the section “I cenci dell’anima,” which are analyzed later in this chapter, are longer. Their litanic character supports the experimentation in length of verse. 57 Ibid., 140–1, lines 43–46. The anaphoric order is based on the expression “altri come.” 58 Ibid., 155. 59 Ibid., 142–3. 60 As Mengaldo argues, “verso libero” (free verse) is a calque from the French vers libre. It does not express the importance of the phenomenon which concerns all the metrical aspects of Italian poetry. Mengaldo proposes the definition of “metrica libera” (“free metrics”). This free metrics implies lack (or isolation) of rhymes, mixture of different measures, especially longer than the hendecasyllable, and lack of regular stanzaic lengths. Cf. Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento. Nuova serie, 140. 61 Govoni, Gli aborti, 147.

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o sole, che splendi sulle tetre sulle povere pietre come una nausea d’infermi appena alzati come un vomito bianco di malati!

As one can observe, the praise of the sun is expressed through anti-lyrical and plain images, such as sickness, nausea, and vomit. Though the litanic anaphora the poet defies the traditional laudatio, putting the chairetism close to disgusting elements. “La neve” (“The snow”)62 contains both anaphoric and epiphoric sequence, which closes the poem. Govoni’s interest in the litany goes beyond the existing poetic ways of exploiting certain figures. “Crepuscolo” (“Twilight”)63 presents the external aspect of litanies, in which the sacred content has been replaced with enumerative observation of the phenomena associated with the sunset. The speaker tries to register what he sees, smells, hears (ll. 1–3, 6, 12, 16), and what happens in the universe around him: È l’ora in cui64 le meretrici fuman nelle pipe puzzolenti alle finestre. È l’ora in cui i saltimbanchi si preparan per la rappresentazione. È l’ora in cui s’inaffiano le rose dentro i vasi, nei giardini. […] È l’ora in cui da le clausure le campane si richiaman per andare a letto come polli. […] È l’ora in cui i moribondi dentro l’ospedale, muoiono. […] È l’ora in cui si pensa ai morti e a quelli che non tornan più.

The aim of such speaking is a kind of objectivity, even if it implies a typically human point of view. It can be directly associated with the litanic manner of listing, even if the latter is collective, and so might be considered more impartial. The poems present groups of perceptions—an attempt referable to an order similar to the litanic worldview—based on senses. In the opening part this is sight, then hearing. Successively the things take on the attributes of the senses. After a short passage dedicated to dying persons, convalescents, and prisoners, in the final part of the text (starting from l. 15). These human types are blended. Nevertheless, Govoni’s poem uses the form, which is filled with new, rich descriptive content. This is free verse, and the lines are unusually long for the Italian 62 Ibid., 165–6. 63 Ibid., 135–6. In the collection we find another poem with the same title. The second “Crepuscolo” (ibid., 145–6) does not manifest any litanic quality. 64 This is the litanic formula that opens all the lines of this twenty-line poem.

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tradition.65 The syntactic aspect is relevant as well. Each line of the poem corresponds to a sentence—as pointed out by Mengaldo, this is one of the implications of the use of longer measures in versification. We have no enjambments, nor other “modern” devices: this absence refers to medieval poetry and probably to litanies themselves—we find such inclination in “Crepuscolo.” Mengaldo defines this poem: Il caso-limite è la celebre «litania» Crepuscolo […]: strofa indivisa di venti versi tutti lunghi o lunghissimi […] e tutti coincidenti con una frase e terminati da un punto fermo […].66

Mengaldo notes that a strong formal requirement of litanies is present, even if the association with prayer must be put in inverted commas. He also notes a degree of metrical similarity that starts with the anaphora. At the same time, we observe that the length of lines in some way conflicts with this leveling effect. Another free verse, subdivided into three-line stanzas, is a litany of Sundays:67 Domeniche immacolate come comunicanti con mazzi odorosi di gigli. Domeniche lontane e vaghe simili a mendicanti seduti sotto le finestre d’un convito.

It is worth noting that each stanza of the poem always presents two anaphoras (“Domeniche” and “come” or “simili;” “Sundays,” and “as” or “similar”). This aspect rhythmically marks a text in which different meters are used, while rhythmicized points, which might make up for the lack of unique versification, are also completely lacking. Moreover, in the description of Sundays most of the stanzas, opposing one another, express high- and low-register images or contrasting concepts, as in the quoted passage. “Le anime” (“The souls”)68 is another regular poetic litany (ll. 1–5): Anime fresche e pure come fontane che gorgogliano negli atri. Anime fredde e silenziose

65 The number of syllables oscillate but it is generally close to twenty. According to Mengaldo the longest measure numbers twenty-nine syllables. Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento. Nuova serie, 173. 66 Ibid. 67 “Le domeniche,” in Govoni, Gli aborti, 151–3, lines 55–60. 68 Ibid., 167–9, lines 1–5.

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come erme in un giardino abbandonato. Anime mute e grinze

The attributes, which follow the litanic formula, precede the similes. The litanies coordinate short forms with great descriptive and laudatory potential. This is the most richly exploited and developed feature of Govoni’s poetic litanies. The collection contains poems which are lists. Targhetta speaks about “naked catalogues of poem-lists,” or “poem-enumerations.”69 In the formal aspect of texts such as “Le voci tristi,” “Le dolcezze,” “Le stranezze,” and “Dove stanno bene i fiori,”70 one could search for a litanic pattern lacking the repetitive formula. For Mengaldo the latter represents the type of […] litania di frasi-evento coincidenti […] con versi autonomi in cui tutti i versi cominciano col sintagma articolo + nome d’un fiore e ciò che segue si ragruppa in sintagmi identici o similari […].71

This technique can also be used in only a part of a poem, as in “I fanali.”72 Why is a litanic character in these poems possible—in fact it is noted by a scholar who studied the metrical innovations in the collection of Gli aborti—but problematic? It is possible considering metrically irregular lines, which always contain a single sentence. Enumerating things and phenomena, Govoni tries to reflect something, for example the reality that surrounds him. The problem is to find a hierarchy,73 a feature which is relevant in the composition of litanies. It may exist, but in a residual manner, as in “Dove stanno bene gli uccelli,”74 in which we find traces of ordered classes (the elements found in high spatial positions are generally listed first), but it is not established through the entire poem. In these cases the similarity to litanies is also determined by the typographical arrangement on the page. As we will soon observe, in twentieth-century poetry this feature is a relevant factor of the “litanicity” of certain poems, especially when we are dealing with authors who do experimental research on poetry. Coming back to Gli aborti, Govoni’s tendency to built on figures of repetition permeates

69 Targhetta, “Introduzione,” 10–11, 18–9. Those lists of things were to be very important for the birth of the so-called poetics of objects, an important trend in twentiethcentury Italian poetry. 70 Govoni, Gli aborti, 146–7, 159, 166–7, 192–3. 71 Mengaldo, La tradizione del Novecento. Nuova serie, 173. 72 Govoni, Gli aborti, 120–2, lines 1–6. 73 For example, the martyrs are gathered together and they follow the group of apostles and disciples. The martyrs are followed by bishops and fathers of the Church. 74 Govoni, Gli aborti, 155–6.

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all the section “I cenci dell’anima.”75 Still, not all the poems here are litanic. Those mentioned in this paragraph oppose in some way Govoni’s lyrical litanies, which we analyzed above. An interesting feature of Govoni’s poetry is his openly declared interest in litany. That having been said, his litanic patterns are mainly based on repetitive rhetorical schemes. In Govoni’s poetry we can also find the invocative mode. As we shall not start a new analysis, we quote here only a few titles, such as “Quia pulvis” from Fuochi d’artifizio, “Passeggiata dell’anima convalescente” (“Walk of a convalescent soul”) from Gli aborti, and others. The calls, which sometimes contain chairetismic semantic elements, are rarely organizing structures of the poems. This is the reason for their weakness from a litanic perspective.

75 Targhetta defines it as “il mastodontico sistema di ripetizioni che trama la raccolta,” see Targhetta, “Introduzione,” 27.

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25  Marinetti’s Litanic Layout “Anima della nostra fiamma” (“The soul of our flame”) is a definition of Marinetti given in the dedication of Palazzeschi’s Futurist book of poems entitled Incendiario. Marinetti was the author of the Futurist Manifesto that was published in February 1909 in the French daily newspaper Le Figaro.76 Before the 1910s, the first Italian avant-garde group had already begun to have an influence on the arts. For purposes of the present monograph, Futurism transformed the way of considering literary genres from several points of view. In fact, it is not always possible to clearly distinguish poetry from prose; often the two categories are woven together in a unique work. One important feature of Marinetti’s works is the special emphasis on being recited.77 For Futurist events78 Marinetti usually made declaimers: Eravamo reduci della prima serata futurista avvenuta pochi giorni prima a Trieste […]. Avremmo dovuto essere cinque a quella prima manifestazione ma fummo invece tre giacché soltanto io ebbi il fegato di intervenire, a Armando Mazza, un simpatico e gigantesco giovinotto siciliano che Marinetti invitava quale declamatore cannone di poesie e al tempo stesso ottimo coadiutore non appena si trattava di doverle difendere […].79

The second aspect that signals an important trend in twentieth-century Italian poetry is a blending of visual and poetical features marked by an avant-garde trend, which became “a second nature of all the modern art.”80 Typographical elements used to construct the meaning are a new feature. One might say that non-literary components are introduced in Marinetti’s work. As Daniele Barbieri argues, Marinetti’s poetry goes beyond sonorous illegibility, but remains effective because of its “violent charm.” In certain compositions the borders between painting and poetry are blurred, but Marinetti clearly remains a poet.81 On the 76 Cf. Luciano de Maria, “Marinetti poeta e ideologo,” in Tommaso Filippo Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione futurista, ed. Luciano de Maria (Milan: Mondadori, 1996), XXXI. The manifesto itself was a new literary genre, which characterized the movement. See e.g. Manifesto dei pittori futuristi (1910) and Controdolore, Palazzeschi’s manifesto from 1913. 77 Recordings of the reading of Marinetti’s Zang tumb tuuum. Adrianopoli ottobre 1912. Parole in libertà (Milan: Edizioni Futuriste di “Poesia”, 1914) are very interesting. 78 Called “serate futuriste.” 79 Aldo Palazzeschi, “Prefazione,” in Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione, XX–I. 80 De Maria, “Marinetti poeta e ideologo,” XXX, a definition quoted from Renato Poggioli. 81 Daniele Barbieri, Il linguaggio della poesia (Milan: Bompiani, 2011), 253–6.

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other hand we infer that the printing techniques that had been introduced four centuries before had became an integral part of artistic expression. Marinetti himself considered this aspect of his artistic work to be revolutionary: La mia rivoluzione è diretta contro la così detta armonia tipografica della pagina, che è contraria al flusso e riflusso, ai sobbalzi e agli scoppi dello stile che scorre nella pagina stessa. […] Con questa rivoluzione tipografica e questa varietà multicolore di caratteri mi propongo di raddoppiare la forza espressiva delle parole.82

The typographical arrangement of the page had often been considered a stylistic factor, but in Marinetti it became a literary one. Visual poetry, as Barbieri writes, […] resta una forma di poesia, è non è invece una forma di pittura […]: perché pur in forma mediata della dimensione visiva, ha comunque una dimensione musicale, immersiva, di fondo.83

We agree that, in Marinetti’s “poems,” which are analyzed in the present chapter, the visual aspect appears coordinated with aspects of recitation. The latter interrupts a continuous stream of apparently prosaic discourse. This recalls one of the important characteristics of litanies, namely their oral purpose. A short series of considerations will be devoted to a few of Marinetti’s works which are part of his avant-garde production. It is impossible to analyze here all the works by this artist, and the manifestos themselves, which are closer to the prose, are not here under examination. As one may remember, Futurism was directly engaged in the public debate concerning the possibility or necessity of participating in the First World War.84 After a symbolic (not always entirely pacific, we should add…) battle against the “old” art, knowledge, etc., involving the whole movement, Marinetti and other Futurists were ready to support participation in the war. As Emilio Gentile writes: Fino alla guerra mondiale, le manifestazioni politiche del futurismo erano state limitate a qualche manifesto, a qualche manifestazione irredentista contro l’Austria, alla

82 Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, Manifesti e scritti vari, ed. Luciano de Maria, online version accessed on August 15, 2017, https://www.liberliber.it/mediateca/libri/m/marinetti/ manifesti_e_scritti_vari/pdf/marinetti_manifesti_e_scritti_vari.pdf. Other so-called extra-literary elements are described in Manifesto tecnico della letteratura futurista. The Futurists employ here the use of mathematical signs, but also figures of noise, weight, and smell. Cf. Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione, 46–54. 83 Barbieri, Il linguaggio della poesia, 255–6. 84 The Futurists, as they were convinced that the war meant a world-wide cleansing, endorsed Italian participation. They were active in the faction of interventisti.

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esaltazione della conquista delle Libia […]. Ma, a partire dalla guerra di Libia, l’interesse per la politica diviene più intenso e più presente nelle manifestazioni futuriste. L’impulso a una azione politica è provato da una lettera di Marinetti a Papini, scritta nell’ottobre 1913, per protestare contro l’articolo Freghiamoci della politica […].85

In a long prose work entitled Guerra sola igiene del mondo, which is composed of fragments of manifestos (“Manifesto futurista ai Veneziani,” “Futurist Manifesto to Venetians”), dialogues, registrations of Futurists events, polemics (“Contro l’amore e il parlamentarismo,” “Against love and parlamentarism”), and visionhypotheses (“La Guerra elettrica,” “Electric war”) we find an autonomous piece, which at that time appeared as a leaflet, “Sintesi futurista della Guerra” (“A futurist synthesis of the War”).86 We could define it as a sample of visual poetry, which completes a collection of prose on the war. The piece was signed by Marinetti, Umberto Boccioni, Carlo Carrà, Luigi Russolo, and Ugo Piatti. It was published in 1914 from the headquarters of the movement. Observe eight groups of words, which are placed in the left part of page, inside the wider part of the triangle, together with two groups of words (please note the mathematic symbols) placed above and below the term “passatismo” (“traditionalism”). The immediate impression is one of the similarity to the layout of litanies printed in books of prayer.87

85 Emilio Gentile, “Il futurismo e la politica. Dal nazionalismo modernista al fascismo,” in Futurismo, cultura e politica, ed. Renzo de Felice (Turin: Edizioni della Fondazione Giovanni Angelli, 1988), 115. 86 Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione, 326–7. 87 Ore di grazia. Preghiere cristiane per la gioventù, ed. Giovanni Borsieri (Milan: Tenconi & C. Editori, 1905), 143. The upper, ornamental part is printed in red.

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Following this interpretative model the names of countries (“Serbia,” “Belgio,” “Francia,” “Russia,” “Inghilterra,” “Montenegro,” “Giappone,” “Italia” (Serbia, Belgium, France, Russia, England, Montenegro, Japan, Italy) correspond to the formulas, while the nouns that are listed close to them are antonomastic descriptions. In this perspective, while Japan is symbolized by “Agilità / Progresso / Risolutezza” (“Agility / Progress / Resoluteness”), Italy is seen through “Tutte le forze / Tutte le debolezze / del GENIO” (“All the forces / All the weaknesses / of the GENIUS”). The spatial opposition between the right and left “litanies” corresponds to the parts of the conflict, even if Italy had not yet entered it. These columns are litanic in both visual and rhetorical aspects. They are accompanied by an invocation set under the title. We are dealing here with a religious lexicon used to glorify war. We might conclude that the most interesting aspects of the litanic leaflet involve the typographic elements, which are used to promote political and propagandistic purposes. 364

Zang Tumb Tuuum is a long prose piece on war, published in reviews starting from 1912. The work discusses the Bulgarian–Turkish war and the siege of Adrianople. We can find here many new literary devices which had previously been postulated in the manifestos. Litanic elements can be found in the book as well. They are set out both as in the analyzed leaflet from Guerra sola igiene del mondo, and in still more innovative ways, one of which is represented by a passage of “Mobilitazione.”88

The litanic formula is accompanied by a list. The latter is organized using not a line for each element, but a mathematical symbol that divides the enumerated elements. In this way the typographic rule of litanies, which normally is “starting a new line for each element,” we would say, here is replaced by the plus sign. An innovative litany, whose meaning is completely changed, occurs in a passage from the “chapter” “Hadirlik quartier generale turco:”89

We observe the formula, which is—so to say—typographically rotated. The orthogonal relation between the fixed litanic element and the list is preserved. Numbers, which follow the horizontal position of the formula, are added. Our short litany, which interrupts the stream of prose, introduces new spatial and 88 Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione, 655. 89 Ibid., 709.

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mathematical elements. The topic is violence, as the formula tells us who should be hanged (i.e. traitors, professors, and Bulgarians90). Such litanic set slackens the rhythm of the reading if we consider aspects of recitation. “Bilancio dell’assedio” (“The costs of the siege”)91 which follows “Fucillazione di massa” (“Mass shooting”), represents a similar litanic and graphic type. The numbers are here used to give dates, statistics of attacks, destroyed buildings, and dead Bulgarians. A triple litanic column containing a fixed formula together with an antonomastic list and accompanied by mathematical symbols can be found in “Ponte” (“giornale=”92). In Dune, a short work published in 1915, we find a formula which is purely onomatopoeic. We can observe how two visual poetical litanies are inserted into a frame of the page.93

90 Bulgarians because of their participation on the opposing side in the Great War. 91 Marinetti, Teoria e invenzione, 725. 92 Ibid., 729. “giornale=” is the litanic formula. 93 Ibid., 788.

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The frame comprises litanic lists enclosed between two repetitions of the noun “sole” (“sun”). The first “litany” represents the type we have seen in other samples, while the second is based on an alliterative onset, which marks the elements of the enumeration. Typographically the lines that correspond to the traditional invocations of litanies are here separated by a wider white space in one line. The experimentation concerns not only what is written, but also the white spaces. As the spelling of the onomatopoeias in the second “litany” underlines sequences of vocals, we believe that in the piece under discussion the formulas slow down the rhythm of recitation. Marinetti’s and the Futurists’ litanic references are highly original. Visual and typographical devices are here exploited in a litanic manner. This seems to be the first time in Italian poetry and literature that such techniques were used. The way of reciting the works is suggested as well. Moreover, the visual litanies are never monotonous, as the invented techniques are often reinterpreted and refreshed. For the new genres, Futurism also introduces the use of original litanic schemes, which combine poetical words and graphic art. The aim is not only esthetic— political propaganda is created in such manner as to influence the opinion of the masses. We can conclude that Futurism breaks with traditional iterative devices in order to implement modernized ways of thinking by means of the potential of litanies. As the Futurists were deeply anti-clerical, it seems to legitimate to ask if their use of litanic devices could have been intentional. As in many other works which are cited in this monograph, the litany often is employed for religious or patriotic purposes. Often litanic references can be taken for granted. In other cases litanies are a part of a cultural background: the reinterpretation of the typographical setting of books of prayer might be included among this type of circumstance. Nevertheless, to such background other elements are added that recall litanic formulas—and in these situations the use cannot be casual or aleatory. Concluding, the first decade of the twentieth century is marked by the use of litanic means based on repetitive patterns. The period, at least in the authors we have considered here, is at the same time characterized by the rapid development of free verse. Even if often the latter is created starting from traditional meters, poets freely work with different licenses in the matter. As Carlo Ossola observes, the years which opened the century did not produce any new system: […] altri, certo, avevano teorizzato, sperimentato, il “verso libero” prima (Lucini), le “parole in libertà” poi (i futuristi), ma la rottura del patrimonio metrico tradizionale s’era risolta in accumulo, in coacervo.94

94 Carlo Ossola, Ungaretti, poeta (Venice: Marsilio, 2016), 28.

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In the first decade, litanic techniques largely mean rhetorical devices. Sometimes the recognizability of the internal schemes of stychic poems is determined by iterative, litanic elements. At the same time, authors are interested in the typographical presentation—the layout would become a relevant point of experimentation at the birth of Futurism. In fact, the second decade of the century put the focus on the visual aspect of literary creation. Other patterns seem to be replaced by a visual rhythm. This concerns the poetic use of litanies, for which the Futurists find new expressive means, and other aspects of their poetry.

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26 The Profane and Sacrum of Giuseppe Ungaretti From his early books of poems, Porto sepolto (1916), La guerre (1919; in French), Allegria di Naufragi (1919), and Sentimento del Tempo (1933),95 it is clear that in his education Ungaretti had absorbed the most recent literature, from Symbolism to both Italian and French avant-gardes,96 together with the poets of “new” France,97 as Carlo Ossola observes. Ungaretti had an intercontinental—not simply a national—education, which shaped his wide and rich worldview. La poesia di Ungaretti è così, subito, quella di una generazione—di poesia e pittura, e cinema—europea che, senza mediazioni di crepuscoli, si è trovata alla frontiera della morte e dell’assoluto, nella vita e nelle arti […].98

He created a unique and original style, which would be of fundamental importance for the whole twentieth century. Of his first collection, Ungareti himself spoke about a “precision in both words and rhythm.”99 This trend opposes the metrical studies of the early years of the century, which now appear generally unsystematic. In the 1920s Ungaretti reprinted his published poetry, establishing it in a final way. As for further poems, the poetics of those years is close to a more classical spirit,100 and at the same time to the hermetic trend in poetry.101 Religious and mystical elements become relevant during the 1920s and 1930s. 95

The early books were written in the course of a few years, while the first poems from Sentimento del tempo were published starting from 1923. Ibid., 21–38. 96 Giuseppe Ungaretti was born in Egypt and from 1912 studied in Paris. He knew Apollinaire, Cendras, Breton, Modigliani, and de Chirico, and he followed the most recent trends in arts. Ibid., 21–24, 253. 97 Ibid., 33. Ossola lists Breton, Cendrars, Salmon, Soupault, Aragon, and Reverdy. 98 Ibid., 23. 99 A passage of a letter to Giovanni Papini from 1919. Ibid., 27. 100 The phenomenon was called a return to order (“ritorno all’ordine”). It concerns the period after the Great War. For Ossola it is, once more, a result of a close acquaintance with recent European trends. Ibid., 35. 101 Ermetismo, or the so-called Italian school of obscure poetry, a definition which perhaps calques quite a negative judgment given in Italy by the early critics of the school (in 1936 Francesco Flora published his La poesia ermetica). However, during the twentieth century this view changed. Some scholars consider Ungaretti to be one of the fathers of the hermetic school, others think of him as properly a hermetic poet, while still others speak about hermetic concepts and means as elements of his poetics.

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The final edition of the first stage of his poetic work was prepared by Ungaretti himself in 1931. The book is subdivided into several sections, which allow us, at least to a certain extent, to retrace the series which had been previously either composed or published.102 To open our analysis we shall say that the invocation is present in Ungaretti’s collections, which are mentioned above. This concerns his early works, for example, “Popolo” (“People”),103 in which the subject addresses the homeland (“O Patria,” l. 24). The calls increase in Sentimento del Tempo. In other poems we find simple invocations, for example: to death (“Canto secondo,” “Second song”104), memory (“Canto sesto,” “Sixth song”105), moon (“Preludio,” and “Quale grido,” “Prelude,” and “Which cry”106), brother (“Se tu mio fratello,” “If you my brother”107), God (i.e. in “Pietà. 1, 2, 4” “Piety. 1, 2, 4”108), and others. Sentimento del Tempo contains several examples of invocations which are accompanied by antonomasias and attributes. Real litanic potential is exploited in these poems. We may cite “Le stagioni. 1” (“The seasons. 1,” ll.1–6).109 It opens a sequence of four short poems: O leggiadri e giulivi coloriti Che la struggente calma alleva, E addolcirà, Dall’astro desioso adorni, Torniti da soavità, O seni appena germogliati,

The first and last lines of the passage address abstract receivers, who are richly described. In a hymn to death (“Inno alla morte,” “Hymn to death”110) a double anaphora together with an anaphora–epiphora mark four out of eight stanzas. Each time we find devices which are used at the beginning of the concerned units. The calls are as follows (ll. 1, 10–11, 15–18):

102 To a certain extent because a number of texts from the previous editions were left out. Those poems were edited in 1945 as Poesie disperse. Ibid., 31. 103 Giuseppe Ungaretti, Vita d’un uomo, ed. Leone Piccioni (Milan: Mondadori, 2007), 16–7. 104 Ibid., 182. 105 Ibid., 186. 106 Ibid., 192; 193. 107 Ibid., 202. 108 Ibid., 168–71. 109 Ibid., 105. 110 Ibid., 117–8.

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Amore, mio giovine emblema, […] Amore, stella lucente, Mi pesano gli anni venturi. Morte, arido fiume… Immemore sorella, morte, L’uguale mi farai del sogno Baciandomi.

The first stanza is significantly longer than the rest. As we note, the second call is accompanied by a Marian reference. In fact, the isolated, single-line stanza, which is here quoted, is followed by a litanic line, in which the order anaphora– epiphora is reversed. The second call to death contains a reminiscence of Franciscan discourse. “Canto primo” (“First song”)111 abounds with litanic descriptions of death (ll. 1–3, 13–20): O sorella dell’ombra, Notturna quanto più la luce ha forza, M’insegui, morte. […] Madre velenosa degli evi Nella paura del palpito E nella solitudine, Bellezza punita e ridente, Nell’assopirsi della carne Sognatrice fuggente, Atleta senza sonno Della nostra grandezza,

As before, the receivers derive from Laudes creaturarum by Francis of Assisi, but the initial reference is developed in a descriptive, litanic sequence. We note a trend to isolate one of the invocations, a typographic expedient, which increases the relevance of the litanic devices. This influences recitation or even a silent reading as well. The following poem continues to invoke death in the opening of the second stanza. We shall quote “Canto secondo” (“Second song,” ll. 6–8):112

111 Ibid., 181. 112 Ibid., 182.

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Morte, muta parola, Sabbia deposta come un letto Del sangue,

In this short litanic extract we find a meta-poetic association, in which death is described through a “mute word.” “Ultimo quarto” (“Last quarter”)113 begins with a litany properly said, in which the moon is addressed (ll.1–4): Luna, Piuma del cielo, Così velina, Arida,

As is typical the lines used by Ungaretti in his poetry tend to be isolated and essential,114 and the litanic phrases can be condensed even into a single word. In “Caino” (“Kain”),115 another poem from Sentimento del tempo, we find an invocation to memory, which is a tactless daughter of the tedium that is incessant (“Figlia indiscreta della noia,  / Memoria, memoria incessante,” ll. 22–23). The short litanic passage is here divided into two lines, which are metrically uniform. Only in the second do we know the litanic intention of the subject. Such an approach to versification is related to the early twentieth-century experiences, especially among the avant-gardes. We note that Ungaretti’s typographical setting also gives relevance to his lists. In a particular manner it draws attention to the litanic sequences. Two other poems can be mentioned here: “Preludio,” in which the subject opens by calling “Magica luna” (“Magic moon,” l. 1); in “Quale grido” the invoked moon is slow and allusive (“Lenta luna,” l. 3; “Luna allusiva,” l. 6). Ungaretti uses anaphoric repetitions as well. Perhaps their frequency is not as high as that of the invocations, but some of the best-known poems of our author manifest litanic enumerations provided with a kind of formula. We are convinced that efforts to make uniform lists exist in some of Ungaretti’s poems. In “Silenzio” (“Silence”),116 a poem from the first collection, such an attempt is clear in the final lines (ll. 9–14): ho visto la mia città sparire

113 Ibid., 138. 114 Stefano Agosti speaks about essential language (“parola essenziale”) for the first Ungaretti collection. Cf. Stefano Agosti, Grammatica della poesia. Cinque studi (Naples: Guida Editore, 2007), 119. 115 Ungaretti, Vita d’un uomo, 172–3. 116 Ibid., 33.

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lasciando un poco un abbraccio di lumi nell’aria torbida sospesi

The syntax is here strained in order to create a sequence between the two penultimate lines. Certainly this does not make a poetic litany. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that the poet is testing an order which can be purely typographical. This brings us to anaphoras, which are more often used in L’Allegria. Some of them accompany litanic lists. Two symmetric anaphoric orders at the beginning of each stanza can be found in “La notte bella” (“The beautiful night”).117 A stanzaic anaphora appears in the last six stanzas of “I fiumi” (“The rivers”).118 Likewise in “Trasfigurazione” (“Transfiguration”)119 and “Preghiera” (“Prayer”).120 We find a couple anaphora–anaphora, and anaphora–epiphora in the opening of three out of six stanzas of “Malinconia” (“Melancholy”).121 In “Ritorno” (“Come back”)122 the anaphoric lines comprise two out of four: Trinano le cose un’estesa monotonia di assenze Ora è un pallido involucro L’azzurro scuro delle profondità si è franto Ora è un arido manto

The layout contains an additional white space which divides the lines of the poem. As is found in certain religious poetry, the litanic formula is followed by a predicate. In traditional litanies this is an implied element, which sometimes in poetry needs to be made obvious in order to emphasize the character of the litanic device that is being used. This capacity of the litanic recall concerns the definitional or descriptive potential of the mentioned technique of discourse.

117 118 119 120 121

Ibid., 48. Ibid., 43–45. Ibid., 69. Ibid., 97. Ibid., 37. “Calante malinconia lungo il corpo avvinto / al suo destino // Calante notturno abbandono / di corpi a pien’anima presi / […] // Abbandono dolce di corpi,” (ll. 1–4, 8). 122 Ibid., 91.

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One more poem, written during the war, in the trenches,123 very short and condensed, can be analyzed here in litanic perspective. We mean the well-known “Sono una creatura” (“I am a creature”).124 We shall cite a part (ll. 1–10): Come questa pietra del S. Michele così fredda così dura così prosciugata così refrattaria così totalmente disanimata Come questa pietra è il mio pianto

Now, a list of essential terms preceded by litanic formulas (“così,” “so”) expresses a semantic field centered around a still element, a stone, and its lack of animation. In a fourteen-line poem such a litany is a relevant part of the whole number of lines. It emphasizes the opposition between the title, which brings us toward living beings, and the content, which concerns both sorrow and death. Such an antithetical combination ties together the feelings and the fears of the subject. Moreover, the still nature of the stone is underlined by the calm and regular rhythm of line one together with lines 3–4 and 5–7. The versification is composed of even-syllable lines with only three exceptions (ll. 2, 8, 10). After the litany, the poem is incisively closed by a famous stanza divided into a sequence of three lines, which are a typical mark of Ungaretti’s poetry of that period.125 This ending opposes the calm character of the even-syllabic litanic part—it corresponds perhaps to the stillness of stone—which appears as carved from the remaining part of the poem. To complete our analysis we may add that declared poetic prayers are present in two collections that are here analyzed. The fact can be explicit in the titles—as in “Preghiera,” “Prayer,” and “La preghiera,” “The prayer”126—or within the texts, 123 As any reader infers from the paratextual indication of place and date added after the title. 124 Ungaretti, Vita d’un uomo, 41. 125 Ossola, Ungaretti, poeta, 29. The scholar speaks about “isole metriche,” which in the present case re-compose a nine-syllable verse, if read together. Giovanardi defines this phenomenon as “dissectioned” traditional verse. Cf. Giovanardi, “Metrica: tra norma e interpretazione,” 274. 126 Ungaretti, Vita d’un uomo, 97; 174.

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as in “Noia” (“Ennui”).127 An early, published version of “Noia,” which was significantly shortened in the final edition of L’Allegria, contains the lines “La litania ai numeri degli usci serrati / che seguo per accompagnarmi” (“The litany to the closed doors  / that I follow to accompany myself,” ll. 11–12). Litany is clearly present in the worldview of the author. In conclusion, L’Allegria and Sentimento del Tempo represent the highest results of literary experiment during the early decades of the twentieth century. We have seen that starting from the newest elements are related to typographical and visual components. Those new aspects enrich the number of litanic means available for poetic use. This is also the case of silence expressed through typographic pauses between lines. The crumbling of the traditional metrical structures takes place from the last years of the nineteenth century. Niva Lorenzini, after Franco Fortini, speaks about the violence of Ungaretti’s verse.128 The novelty of the entire epoch, the change properly characterized, is the visual exploration, which leads poets to mark versification with brand new devices. In fact, Palazzeschi, Govoni, Marinetti, together with the Futurists and Ungaretti, concentrate their artistic energy on the new typographical appearance of the page. Litanic techniques are used well in this renewed framework, and the innovation refreshes them. The range of action of litany in poetry changes, too. Any sacralizing capacity and meaning seems to be left aside in the most experimental works. At the same time, verbal and visual communication counts more and more—in this field litanic devices are recognizable, and so remain very useful. Religious poetry continues to employ existing and associated litanic qualities. Although rather consolidated, this link is up-to-date in Ungaretti’s mature poetics thanks to the meaningful literary and artistic experiments of the early decades of the century on the one hand, and the poet’s study of Italian tradition on the other. In such manner we may conclude by going back to the roots, because for Ungaretti, Petrarch, and Jacopone da Todi, among others, were two of the most important connections in his “exile from the past.”129

127 Ibid., 6. The first version, now in Poesie disperse: ibid., 388. 128 Niva Lorenzini, La poesia italiana del Novecento (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2005), 79–80. 129 An expression by Ungaretti, from the epigraph to his Sui sonetti del Petrarca. Ungaretti published important studies of Petrarch, Jacopone, Dante, and Leopardi, on Umanesimo, and on the origins of Italian Romanticism. Cf. Giuseppe Ungaretti, Invenzione della poesia moderna. Lezioni brasiliane di letteratura (1937–1942), ed. Paola Montefoschi (Naples: Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, 1984).

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Index of Subjects A Agnus Dei  138, 257 Akathist Hymn 21, 23–25, 47, 49, 68 alliteration 201, 223, 349 amphibrachic pattern  283 anaphora  17, 27, 41, 42, 58, 59, 61, 62, 66, 68, 70, 73, 95, 97, 98, 101, 102, 105, 108, 115, 116, 122, 128, 130–133, 140, 144, 145, 149, 160–163, 169, 171, 172, 174, 176, 178–182, 185–191, 196, 197, 199–202, 205, 206, 208, 209, 212, 217–221, 232, 234–237, 240, 242, 243, 250, 251, 255, 259–261, 270, 274, 277, 281–283, 286–290, 292, 293, 297–300, 302, 303, 306–309, 311–313, 320, 322–325, 347, 354–358, 370, 371, 373 angelology, angles  101 anti-Christian 137, 142 antonomasia, antonomasias  16, 24, 25, 46, 49, 51, 53, 56, 58, 68, 75, 86, 89, 122, 123, 130, 135, 143, 144, 147–149, 167, 172, 211–213, 227, 233–235, 240–242, 244, 247, 249, 250, 257, 260–262, 271, 273, 275, 281, 296, 298, 303, 306, 310, 336, 339, 353, 356, 370 apostrophe  47, 54, 58, 59, 60, 150, 164, 199, 208, 212, 241, 276, 281, 312, 333, 339 approximate syllabic verse, anisosillabismo 35–37, 48, 73, 85, 91, 98, 102 ars moriendi  77 assonance 35, 41, 48, 83, 98, 99, 139, 202, 268 avant-garde  245, 260, 343, 350, 355, 361, 362

Ave Maria, Angelic salutation  23, 88, 89, 98, 129 B ballad, ballata, canzone a ballo 34, 35, 48, 73, 96, 102, 136, 139–141, 172, 204, 248, 275, 277, 280, 288, 314, 322, 323 Bible  59, 221 New Testament  43 Corinthians 171 Revelation of John  324 Old Testament  39, 276, 298 Book of Daniel  39, 41 Book of Judith  293–295 book of prayer  32 burlesque sonnet  157, 232, 254 C Cantasi come (to be sung as  122 Cantigas de Santa Maria  36 Catone in Utica 289, 292 chairetism, chairetismic  27, 42, 62, 74, 89, 98, 122, 123, 126, 128, 149, 162, 163, 167, 174, 227, 234, 243, 261, 272, 280, 309, 313, 354, 357, 360 Christ, Jesus  72, 85, 259 Christological 58, 95, 105, 345 classical meters  267, 329 cobla capfinida 72, 160, 170, 219 comic-realistic sonnet  157, 232 Confortatorio, book of religious comfort 81 confraternities of praise, compagnie dei laudesi, brotherhoods  31, 32, 103

395

Congregation of Saint Philip Neri, Congregation of the Oratory  116, 117 Crepuscolarismo 246 D da capo aria, air, aria col da capo 42, 275, 284, 285, 302, 303 dactylic verse, dactylic pattern,  330, 348 Dante, Dantean references  20, 33, 50, 51, 55, 88, 102, 103, 122, 130, 139, 145, 146, 153, 158, 159, 162, 165, 166–169, 171–173, 175, 177, 186, 187, 193, 208, 209, 216, 221, 223, 232, 234, 309, 335, 375 dei Battuti di Modena, 46, 85, 382 dei Disciplinati di Modena, 36 della confraternità di Santa Maria dei raccomandati in Gualdo Tadino, 49, 384 deprecations, deprecatio 20, 283 devotio populi, pietas populi, popular devotion 67, 111, 113 di antichi battuti comaschi,  85, 380 dialogic character  203, 217 dialogue  58, 61, 66, 72, 127, 135, 199, 200, 205, 206, 208, 217, 221, 233, 237, 270, 291, 298, 299, 303, 308, 345 Divina commedia, Commedia  122, 221, 242 Inferno 20, 122, 130 Paradiso 102, 172 Dolce stil novo, Stilnovo 58, 94, 158, 159, 162, 165–168, 171, 172, 177, 186, 216 double sonnet, 165, 245 E ektene, ektenial  22, 28, 62, 89, 172

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enjambment  130, 140, 144, 145, 152, 212, 240–242, 251–253, 259, 261, 335, 358 enumeration, enumeratio 46–48, 54, 89, 90, 100, 101, 102, 127, 130, 140, 141, 148, 149, 152, 164, 169–171, 174, 176, 182, 197, 201, 202, 210, 211, 217, 218, 220–223, 230–232, 240, 248, 249, 260, 273, 276, 278, 289, 297, 316, 319, 333, 334, 352, 353, 356, 367 envoy 86, 87, 100, 103, 222, 331 epiphora 59, 72, 240, 300, 308, 370, 371, 373 epithets  53, 58, 62, 100, 122, 236, 249, 323 F Fiorentino, 25, 36, 73 First World War  150, 153, 362 Flagellanti movement of, Disciplinati di Gesù  31 formula  20–24, 26, 27, 41, 51, 53, 54, 57, 59, 65, 66, 68, 72, 74, 75, 83, 84, 86–90, 96, 102, 103, 124, 129, 132, 138, 139, 149, 150, 160–162, 177, 182, 189, 190, 195, 201, 205, 224, 240, 243, 249, 250, 254, 273, 281, 291, 320, 325, 336, 346, 348, 350, 353, 357, 359, 364, 365, 366, 367, 372–374 free verse, verso libero 245, 343, 356, 357, 367 French alexandrine, 73 futurism, futurist  343, 344, 350, 352, 361, 362, 363, 367, 368 G giustinianee 104, 109 God, Father, 24, 82, 84, 150 Gospels 49, 74 Great Schools (Scuole Grandi) 94

H hexameter 329, 330, 338 Holy Spirit  32, 49, 51–53, 82, 100, 124, 145, 146, 198, 199, 210, 259 hymn  21–25, 29, 34, 35, 39, 41, 47, 49, 51, 53, 68, 78, 82, 118–128, 144, 171, 197–199, 280, 288, 370 I iambic pattern  62, 337 Index librorum prohibitorum, 137, 224 invocation, call  16, 22–24, 33, 54, 61, 62, 67, 70, 72–75, 85, 88, 97–99, 106–108, 124, 126, 128, 129, 131, 132, 140, 144, 147–151, 163, 172, 173, 199, 202, 210, 211, 212, 217, 234, 235, 240, 243, 245, 247, 248, 251, 252, 254–259, 261, 262, 272, 280, 281, 295, 296, 305, 306, 312, 331–337, 339, 348, 353, 356, 364, 370–372 J Jacoponic school  65 K Kyrie eleison 20, 24, 138, 295 L laisse 45, 48 lauda, hymn or song of praise, laudatory poem  15–17, 21, 23, 25, 26, 29, 32–37, 40, 41, 43, 45–59, 61, 62, 65–76, 82–91, 93, 95–107, 109, 111–121, 129, 135–139, 144, 153, 159, 163, 167, 173, 177, 179, 182, 183, 197, 203, 210, 211, 224, 245, 246, 258, 270, 272, 281, 282, 288, 294, 296, 297, 303, 337

dramatic, azione sacra 284, 285, 293, 294, 298–301 Laudes creaturarum, Cantico de Frate Sole 33, 36, 39–43, 57, 74, 145, 148, 371 lyrical, spiritual  16, 34, 112, 117, 119, 124, 167, 281 mystical 16, 53, 55, 68, 95, 153 narrative 15, 34, 53, 88, 277, 320, 347 polyphonic 48, 104, 106, 117 Rayna possentissima 45, 46, 75, 90 laudario 25, 26, 32, 36, 47–49, 53, 54, 68, 73, 74, 77, 81, 83–85, 87–91, 93–95, 100, 104, 106–108 anonymous 34, 35, 45, 55, 56, 86 authored 55, 113, 329, 343 della compagnia di San Gilio 47 di Cortona 35, 48, 50, 65, 74, 93 di Santa Croce di Urbino 65, 73 giustinianeo 93, 104, 108, 109 veneto 47 Les miracles de Notre Dame, 48 letana 20 libretto 286, 300, 303 list  22, 26–28, 66, 67, 80, 90, 101, 122, 123, 140, 141, 143, 149, 162, 165, 180, 183, 188, 197, 202, 217, 218, 220, 221, 223, 229–231, 240, 249, 250, 251, 256, 273–275, 288, 289, 294, 297, 300, 310, 312, 314, 316–319, 325, 331, 334, 346, 348, 350, 353, 354, 365, 365, 374 Litany of Loreto 21–24, 54, 181, 227, 243, 245, 256 Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Litanies of Venice (Aquileia)  21– 23, 46 Litany of the Sacred Heart of Jesus 85 Litany of the Saints 21, 22, 25–28, 80, 101, 146, 250, 348 397

M manifesto  221, 344, 361–363 Marian praise, 211, 354 melody, melodic or vocal line  35, 39, 48, 51, 53, 105–107, 116, 159, 201, 288, 289, 291–293 modules  46, 53, 59, 62, 72, 284, 344, 348 musical litany  105 musical set, musical arrangement 107, 291, 301 Mystical Betrothal  69, 70 mysticism  31, 56, 57, 59, 96, 113, 324 N negation 180, 181, 315 O onomatopoeia 367 oratorio  266, 301–303 origins  33, 34, 39, 69, 102, 112, 129, 137, 140, 146, 157, 158, 179, 190, 233, 266, 375 P pagan deity  58, 169 patriotic poem  152 Petrarchan sonnet  183, 187, 193 Petrarchism  194, 195, 201, 203, 206, 207, 209, 210, 213, 216, 220, 224, 225, 265 planctus 56, 66 Pléiade 268 polyonymy, polyonymic  17, 27, 28, 84, 271, 272, 274–276, 278, 319 popular sources  203, 268 portrait, self-portrait  227–230, 349 propaganda 367 Provençal  36, 41, 56, 60, 72, 158– 160, 162, 167, 170, 175, 190, 219 psalm, psalmic  40, 42, 280, 321

398

Purgatorio, 165 purgatory 79, 80 R recitativo 283, 298, 300, 303 refrain  34–36, 53, 59, 68, 70, 71, 74, 86, 96, 97, 105–107, 116, 135, 140, 141, 151, 204, 269, 275, 282, 285, 289, 290, 304, 314, 318, 319, 323–325, 346, 349 responsorial technique, responsorial character  33, 75, 84, 102, 208, 221, 291, 296, 298, 301, 302 rhythmical pattern, pattern of stresses  60, 70, 122, 142, 249, 261, 270, 275, 283, 296, 313, 329, 330, 334, 335, 337, 348 Risorgimento  153, 233, 305–307, 310, 314–316, 318, 319, 321, 322, 325, 327, 331, 334 S Scapigliatura, bohème  133, 239 Sicilian school  157–159, 163 siculo-toscani 165 singing, da capo 33, 35, 77, 104, 107, 284, 287, 297, 301–303 Siroe 286, 287 sonetto caudato, tail-end sonnet  225 stornello 321 strambotto, 157 stychic poem  346, 356 supplication, suplicatio 20, 26–28, 47, 82, 98, 101, 150, 243, 259, 271, 302, 321 syllabic verse  36, 46, 54, 75, 76, 91 decasyllable(s)  120, 313, 330 double seven-syllable  36, 47, 70, 75, 85 five-syllable(s)   66, 98, 127, 128, 132, 151, 242, 276, 280, 281, 294, 330

hendecasyllabe(s)  37, 54, 59, 60, 62, 74, 75, 83, 85, 91, 96, 98–100, 101, 123, 129, 139, 140, 151, 170, 171, 197, 199, 202, 212, 213, 225, 232, 234, 241–243, 247, 252, 258, 261, 269, 276, 294, 300, 329, 330, 336, 337, 355, 356 Italian alexandrine  45, 59, 73 nine-syllable(s)  48, 143, 330, 332, 348, 374 octosyllable(s)  35, 48, 54, 74, 120, 121, 135, 267, 269, 271, 294, 313 seven-syllable  36, 47, 54, 60–62, 70, 71, 73, 75, 85, 98, 100, 101, 116, 123, 170, 171, 247, 252, 258, 267, 270, 281, 284, 288, 291, 294–296, 300, 307, 308, 310, 311, 316, 322, 330, 336 six-syllable(s)  85, 308, 318 thirteen-syllable 355

T Theotokos 22, 24 Trinity  24, 26, 49, 97, 102, 217, 222, 223 trochaic pattern  269 tropes, 39 troubadour poetry, 158 troubadours, 158 U unification of Italy  233, 307, 309, 321 V Valkyrie 240 Veni creator Spiritus  198 Veni Sancte Spiritus, 53, 124, 144 vernacular litanies, 82 Z zéjel 35, 36, 61, 62, 67, 68, 71–73

399

Index of Names A Abbracciavacca Meo  59 Ageno Franca  53 Alfieri Vittorio  228, 231 Alighieri Dante  165 Anthony of Padua  49 Aranci Gilberto  25 Aretino Pietro  204 Ariès Philippe  80 Avalle d’Arco Silvio  41 B Baldacci Luigi  328, 330, 332 Barbieri Daniele  361 Belcari Feo  56 Bembo Pietro  193, 204 Benedict of Nursia  21 Benzi Elisa  286, 304 Berchet Giovanni  317 Bettarini Rosanna  68 Betto Mettefuoco  59 Blaise  83 Boccioni Umberto  363 Boito Arrigo  239 Boniface VIII  55 Bouchard Pierre  209 Branca Vittore  185 Brugnolo Fulvio  167 C Camerana Giovanni  120, 129, 228, 237, 239 Campanella Tommaso  215, 265 Canettieri Paolo  37 Carducci Giosuè  120, 125, 147, 149, 233, 266, 267, 327 Carpi Umberto  327 Carrà Carlo  363

Castiglione Baldassarre  207 Catherine of Bologna, Caterina Vigri 97, 112 Catherine of Siena  79 Cavalcanti Guido  165 Cerisola Pier Luigi  267 Chiabrera Gabriello  265, 307, 329 Christina of Bolsena  83 Christopher I Damiata  21 Ciconi Teobaldo  319 Cino da Pistoia  165 Colonna Vittoria  194, 204, 206, 207, 235, 237, 276 Contini Gianfranco  33, 45 Corazzini Sergio  246 Cuva Armando  21 D D’Annunzio Gabriele  28, 119, 135, 246, 330 Da Lentini Giacomo  59, 157, 158, 160, 220 Da Siena Bianco  56, 86, 90, 96, 99, 102, 216, 274, 313, 324 Dall’Ongaro Francesco  319 Dammonis Innocentius  107 Dei Adele  345 Della Torre Renato  126 E Elste Martin  284 Emmi Silvia  164 Enotrio Romano  125, 327 Esposito Edoardo  246, 351 F Fasani Raniero  31 Filocamo Gioia  79 401

Fiorini Giovanni  245, 255, 256 Fortini Franco  375 Foscolo Ugo  228, 230 Francis of Assisi  31, 33, 36, 39, 49, 55, 57, 145, 148, 210, 371 Frederick II Hohenstaufen  157, 159 Frescobaldi Dino  168 Fubini Mario  280 Fusinato Arnaldo  321 G Galofaro Francesco  13 Gambara Veronica  194, 204 Garibaldi Giuseppe  233 Gavazzeni Franco  228 Gentile Emilio  362 Getto Giovanni  236, 246 Giannini Giovanni  23 Giustinian(i) Leonardo/ Lionardo 93, 95, 104, 109 Goldin Daniela  286 Govoni Corrado  343, 351 Gozzano Guido  253 Guinizelli Guido  165, 167, 216 Guittone d’Arezzo  35, 36, 96 H Händel Georg Friedrich  286 Hasse Johann Adolf  280, 286 Hugo Victor  147, 235 I Iglesias Recuoero Silvia  69 Il Bianco da Siena  56, 86, 96, 99, 102, 216, 274, 313, 324 Ive Antonio  26 J Jacopone da Todi  35, 53, 55–57, 65, 68, 71–73, 96, 97, 102, 216, 375 Janni Ettore  318 Joachim of Fiore  31, 32 402

John the Baptist  49, 83, 276 Jommelli Nicolò  293 K Kleinhenz Cristopher  163 L Lapo Gianni  169 Laurence of Rome  83 Le Goff Jacques  80 Leonardi Matteo  57 Léonin 48 Leopardi Giacomo  236, 279, 305, 307 Lorenzini Niva  375 Luisi Francesco  94 M Mameli Goffredo  232, 322 Manzoni Alessandro  119, 120, 152, 228, 230, 279, 309 Marinetti Tommaso Filippo  343 Mary Magdalene  49 Mazzini Giuseppe  233 Merolla Riccardo  315 Metastasio Pietro  266, 279, 293, 307 Mozart Wolfgang Amadeus  280, 293, 301 N Neri Philip  111, 116 O Ochino Bernardino  207 Ossola Carlo  368, 369 P Palazzeschi Aldo  343, 344, 350 Panziera Ugo  56, 96 Pascoli Giovanni  329, 330 Paul the Apostle  171 Pérotin 48

Persic Alessio  20, 22 Piatti Ugo  363 Piccinni Nicolò  289 Pirovano Donato  166 Pole Reginald  207 Pozzi Giovanni  41 Praga Emilio  239 Q Quondam Amedeo  314 R Razzi, Serafino (fra)  106, 108, 114, 117 Reutter the Younger, Johann Georg 293 Righetti Mario  20 Russolo Luigi  363 S Sadowski Witold  13, 28, 72, 75 Santagata Marco  175 Sarro Domenico  279, 286 Savonarola 207 Ser Garzo (dall’Incisa)  49, 53, 54 Sixtus V  26 Stampa Gaspara  194, 195, 196, 199, 203, 206, 208 Swinburne Algernon  148

T Targhetta Francesco  351 Tassoni Alessandro  265 Tellini Gino  352 Terrile Cristina  345 Tommaseo Niccolò  315 Tonelli Natascia  175 Tornabuoni (de’ Medici) Lucrezia 114 Troiano Alfredo  78 U Ungaretti Giuseppe  343, 369 V Vazzoler Franco  276 Vecchi Galli Paola  179, 183 Verlaine Paul  355 Viëtor Karl  15 Vinci Leonardo  279, 286, 289, 290, 292 Vivaldi Antonio  280, 286, 289 Z Zardin Danilo  111 Zeno Apostolo  293

403

Literary and Cultural Theory General editor: Wojciech H. Kalaga Vol.

1

Wojciech H. Kalaga: Nebulae of Discourse. Interpretation, Textuality, and the Subject. 1997.

Vol.

2

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Tadeusz Rachwał (eds.): Memory – Remembering – Forgetting. 1999.

Vol.

3

Piotr Fast: Ideology, Aesthetics, Literary History. Socialist Realism and its Others. 1999.

Vol.

4

Ewa Rewers: Language and Space: The Poststructuralist Turn in the Philosophy of Culture. 1999.

Vol.

5

Floyd Merrell: Tasking Textuality. 2000.

Vol.

6

Tadeusz Rachwał / Tadeusz Slawek (eds.): Organs, Organisms, Organisations. Organic Form in 19th-Century Discourse. 2000.

Vol.

7

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Tadeusz Rachwał: Signs of Culture: Simulacra and the Real. 2000.

Vol.

8

Tadeusz Rachwal: Labours of the Mind. Labour in the Culture of Production. 2001.

Vol.

9

Rita Wilson / Carlotta von Maltzan (eds.): Spaces and Crossings. Essays on Literature and Culture in Africa and Beyond. 2001.

Vol.

10

Leszek Drong: Masks and Icons. Subjectivity in Post-Nietzschean Autobiography. 2001.

Vol.

11

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Tadeusz Rachwał (eds.): Exile. Displacements and Misplacements. 2001.

Vol.

12

Marta Zajac: The Feminine of Difference. Gilles Deleuze, Hélène Cixous and Contempora-ry Critique of the Marquis de Sade. 2002.

Vol.

13

Zbigniew Bialas / Krzysztof Kowalczyk-Twarowski (eds.): Alchemization of the Mind. Literature and Dissociation. 2003.

Vol.

14

Tadeusz Slawek: Revelations of Gloucester. Charles Olsen, Fitz Hugh Lane, and Writing of the Place. 2003.

Vol.

15

Carlotta von Maltzan (ed.): Africa and Europe: En/Countering Myths. Essays on Literature and Cultural Politics. 2003.

Vol.

16

Marzena Kubisz: Strategies of Resistance. Body, Identity and Representation in Western Culture. 2003.

Vol.

17

Ewa Rychter: (Un)Saying the Other. Allegory and Irony in Emmanuel Levinas’s Ethical Language. 2004.

Vol.

18

Ewa Borkowska: At the Threshold of Mystery: Poetic Encounters with Other(ness). 2005.

Vol.

19

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Tadeusz Rachwał (eds.): Feeding Culture: The Pleasures and Perils of Appetite. 2005.

Vol.

20

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Tadeusz Rachwał (eds.): Spoiling the Cannibals’ Fun? Cannibalism and Cannibalisation in Culture and Elsewhere. 2005.

Vol.

21

Katarzyna Ancuta: Where Angels Fear to Hover. Between the Gothic Disease and the Meataphysics of Horror. 2005.

Vol.

22

Piotr Wilczek: (Mis)translation and (Mis)interpretation: Polish Literature in the Context of Cross-Cultural Communication. 2005.

Vol.

23

Krzysztof Kowalczyk-Twarowski: Glebae Adscripti. Troping Place, Region and Nature in America. 2005.

Vol.

24

Zbigniew Białas: The Body Wall. Somatics of Travelling and Discursive Practices. 2006.

Vol.

25

Katarzyna Nowak: Melancholic Travelers. Autonomy, Hybridity and the Maternal. 2007.

Vol.

26

Leszek Drong: Disciplining the New Pragmatism. Theory, Rhetoric, and the Ends of Literary Study. 2007.

Vol.

27

Katarzyna Smyczyńska: The World According to Bridget Jones. Discourses of Identity in Chicklit Fictions. 2007.

Vol.

28

Wojciech H. Kalaga / Marzena Kubisz (eds.): Multicultural Dilemmas. Identity, Difference, Otherness. 2008.

Vol.

29

Maria Plochocki: Body, Letter, and Voice. Construction Knowledge in Detective Fiction. 2010.

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30

Rossitsa Terzieva-Artemis: Stories of the Unconscious: Sub-Versions in Freud, Lacan and Kristeva. 2009.

Vol.

31

Sonia Front: Transgressing Boundaries in Jeanette Winterson’s Fiction. 2009.

Vol.

32

Wojciech Kalaga / Jacek Mydla / Katarzyna Ancuta (eds.): Political Correctness. Mouth Wide Shut? 2009.

Vol.

33

Paweł Marcinkiewicz: The Rhetoric of the City: Robinson Jeffers and A. R. Ammons. 2009.

Vol.

34

Wojciech Małecki: Embodying Pragmatism. Richard Shusterman’s Philosophy and Literary Theory. 2010.

Vol.

35

Wojciech Kalaga / Marzena Kubisz (eds.): Cartographies of Culture. Memory, Space, Representation. 2010.

Vol.

36

Bożena Shallcross / Ryszard Nycz (eds.): The Effect of Pamplisest. Culture, Literature, History. 2011.

Vol.

37

Wojciech Kalaga / Marzena Kubisz / Jacek Mydla (eds.): A Culture of Recycling / Recycling Culture? 2011.

Vol.

38

Anna Chromik: Disruptive Fluidity. The Poetics of the Pop Cogito. 2012.

Vol.

39

Paweł Wojtas: Translating Gombrowicz´s Liminal Aesthetics. 2014.

Vol.

40

Marcin Mazurek: A Sense of Apocalypse. Technology, Textuality, Identity. 2014.

Vol.

41

Charles Russell / Arne Melberg / Jarosław Płuciennik / Michał Wróblewski (eds.): Critical Theory and Critical Genres. Contemporary Perspectives from Poland. 2014.

Vol.

42

Marzena Kubisz: Resistance in the Deceleration Lane. Velocentrism, Slow Culture and Everyday Practice. 2014.

Vol.

43

Bohumil Fořt: An Introduction to Fictional Worlds Theory. 2016.

Vol.

44

Agata Wilczek: Beyond the Limits of Language. Apophasis and Transgression in Contemporary Theoretical Discourse. 2016.

Vol.

45

Witold Sadowski / Magdalena Kowalska / Magdalena Maria Kubas (eds.): Litanic Verse I. Origines, Iberia, Slavia et Europa Media. 2016.

Vol.

46

Witold Sadowski / Magdalena Kowalska / Magdalena Maria Kubas (eds.): Litanic Verse II. Britannia, Germania et Scandinavia. 2016.

Vol.

47

Julia Szołtysek: A Mosaic of Misunderstanding: Occident, Orient, and Facets of Mutual Misconstrual. 2016.

Vol.

48

Manyaka Toko Djockoua: Cross-Cultural Affinities. Emersonian Transcendentalism and Senghorian Negritude. 2016.

Vol.

49

Ryszard Nycz: The Language of Polish Modernism. Translated by Tul'si Bhambry. 2017.

Vol.

50

Alina Silvana Felea: Aspects of Reference in Literary Theory. Poetics, Rhetoric and Literary History. 2017.

Vol.

51

Jerry Xie: Mo Yan Thought. Six Critiques of Hallucinatory Realism. 2017.

Vol.

52

Vol.

53

Paweł Stachura / Piotr Śniedziewski / Krzysztof Trybuś (eds.): Approaches to Walter Benjamin’s The Arcades Project. 2017.

Ricardo Namora: Before the Trenches. A Mapping of Problems in Literary Interpretation. 2017.

Vol.

54

Kerstin Eksell / Gunilla Lindberg-Wada (eds.): Studies of Imagery in Early Mediterranean and East Asian Poetry. 2017. Magdalena Kowalska: Litanic Verse III. 2018 Magdalena Maria Kubas: Litanic Verse IV. 2018

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Die folgenden Bände erscheinen als Reihe „Litanic Verse“ in der Reihe „Literary and Cultural Theory“: Sadowski, Kowalska, Kubas, eds., Litanic Verse I: Origines, Iberia, Slavia et Europa Media (ISBN: 978-3-631-66350-9). Sadowski, Kowalska, Kubas, eds., Litanic Verse II: Britannia, Germania et Scandinavia (ISBN: 978-3-631-66349-3). Kowalska, Litanic Verse III: Francia (ISBN: 978-3-631-75622-5). Kubas, Litanic Verse IV: Italia (ISBN: 978-3-631-74805-3). Sadowski, European Litanic Verse. A Different Space-Time (ISBN: 978-3-631-75624-9).