Customer Reviews

Orlando Furioso, Part Two (Penguin Classics)

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4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(0)
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I've given this book 4 stars, because I love this translation. But other reviews have covered that ground already.

Beware, if you buy this on the kindle, that it was very poorly edited. Like vol. 1, footnotes don't appear in the body of the text. But, in addition, this was obviously scanned and then released into the wild, with no further editing. Last letters are routinely dropped off the ends of lines. Ls and 1s are interchangeable. Some stanzas are missing numbers. The line that inspired me to write this review (canto XXXV, stanza 19, l. 4) reads "A laue such as ou saw the old man cas".

I expect better out of Penguin.

Orlando Furioso, translated in two parts by Barabara Reynolds, is a sprawling work. A romance of the Renaissance period (first published in 1516 but written over 25 years), it covers the chivalrous and not-so chivalrous deeds of a huge cast of characters. The themes of the book are love, war and chivalry although one suspects Ariosto, the author, might have just enjoyed telling a good yarn, one tale leading to another in a vast jumble which, while not entirely undirected, only moves gradually towards a rather dimly seen goal.

Ariosto picks up from Boiardo's Orlando Innamoratto and assumes the reader has some knowledge of that poem, alluding tangentially to it throughout the work. The basic plot revolves around Charlemagne's defense of France from the Saracens, although, for most of the book, this is just back story. The siege of Paris is described in detail as are several smaller engagements - although their veracity is questionable - but primarily the story follows a panoply of characters through numerous quests, conflicts and magical interludes. The tales are drawn from many sources, contemporary to the time as well as historical and mythical. The Greek myths, in particular are woven throughout, although often gloriously unrecognizable. The tale jumps around the world - literally, as characters fly and sail from Europe to Africa, Asia and the newly discovered North America. Even the moon is a destination.

The characters range from the well known Orlando (Roland of the Charlemagne legend) and Charlemagne himself, to lesser known lights of the time drawn from other romances. The Saracens and Christians are treated almost equally - at times you have to refer to the dramatis personae to figure out which side an individual is on - and there is very even-handed treatment of both sides. Ariosto also has a rather advanced, for his time, view of women, casting several as military heros every bit the equal of men and giving almost all of his female characters strong, independent roles. No fainting wall-flower princesses here. Even the modern Disney princess pales in comparison to the fierce Marfisa (Saracen and female and a knight) and the magnificent force that is Bradamante.

The male characters are also headstrong, proud to a fault and seem more like rutting mountain goats at times, than men. They display few weaknesses, and are always ready for a challenge. The complicated plot seems designed to pit each of the heroes against each other in a complicated play-off scheme worthy of college football.

The tale ranges from brutal to poetic with scenes of beauty, nobility, cruelty and violence juxtaposed in close succession. The occasional bawdy interlude lightens the mood occasionally but this is no Decameron. The emphasis here is on chivalry and nobility of heart. Comparisons with Tasso are inevitable but probably unfair. Tasso's work is a much tighter, uniform work which reads more like a modern novel. Ariosto's work, in my opinion, belongs to a different genera entirely, consisting, as it does, of a loosely woven set of tales, held together by the slenderest of threads. Tasso and Ariosto each have their own particular charm but should not be ranked against each other.

Repeated encomiums for the house of Este, Ariosto's patrons, cloud the narrative somewhat. The fawning praise and false histories do, however, weave the thing into a whole, providing an overarching theme (the union of Ruggiero and Bradamante) which is otherwise somewhat lacking. The madness of Orlando, which lends the poem its title is really only one of many threads in the tale.

This version of the poem, translated as it is into 4000 octavo stanzas, is remarkably readable. The translation manages to retain a noble air, not sounding forced, in spite of rhyming lines and fixed form. The end notes are long enough to aid the reading and short enough to avoid snowing the reader under with useless details. Many pertain to Ariosto's use of historical figures and places of his own time. The two books of Reynold's translation each have an introduction. The first introduction is lengthy but very readable while the second is brief but fills in the gaps of the first quite nicely. A dramatis personae is presented in each book as well although the second only covers new characters introduced in the second half of the poem. These character lists are actually quite necessary for an intelligent reading of the poem as the number of characters approaches infinity. Finally, the book contains a lengthy index which concentrates on the characters and their actions.

The two volume translation is, I imagine, a bit daunting to the average reader, being nearly 1400 pages in length. It is a fairly smooth read, however, and rewards with many literary jewels. The book can be read as a whole quite easily but would also be useful to the scholar given its fairly extensive notes and indices. The one drawback for scholars would be that the paperbacks, given their enormous length, are unlikely to survive repeated readings. A hardcover version of this translation would, however, be an excellent investment.

Begging you pardon: I say Western World Literature because my reading of Other World Literature is wanting--and I really don't know how many 'Wonders' there are. But like Walter Scott I would learn Italian to feed on this work in the original, it is so enrapturing. In my reading Pantheon is Quixote, Divine Comedy, Ulysses (Homer and Joyce), Huck Finn, and the indomitable Will Shakespeare: I gladly submit to those reads that take me epochally away and demand a great and gruesome gestation. I have taught and directed for the stage various of Shakespeare's works for forty years now and still revel in their creations. So Orlando for me is now at this later date in my experience vaulted into the firmament. It's Awesome! I would learn Italian because there are those unexpected moments Reynolds' otherwise swooping translation hits a traffic bump, (admittedly, Ariosto's own rhetorical patterns run so different than anything we commonly use) but this work never (well, once) let me go, (even reading passages out loud, marveling and laughing) and I've gone back for a second dose immediately, this time beginning with the Introduction. It's the threading of descriptive extravagance and seeming random and distracted narration with an embracing humor that lifts one away as though on Pegasus--although in Orlando it's a Hyppogriff. Yes, one must occasionally toil through Ariosto's honoring of his patrons, the d'Este family, but that done, one can disrespectfully reflect upon who we treasure more--the barbaric barons or the humanely inspired. That said, if you yearn for a soaring, roaring, and delectable literary feast for to last longer than anything you imagined--I kept putting off finishing--indulge in, not just Orlando's, but Humanity's continuing Madness, glazed with a sauce of exquisite taste. There is nothing like it. Nothing. It is unique.

Barbara Reynolds' classic translation, which captures the overwhelming dazzle of Ariosto's over-the-top epic, is a gift to the English-speaking world. Another gift from Reynolds is the index of proper names at the end of volume 2. This allows the reader to isolate a character and follow his or her adventures throughout the work. This may seem like sacrilege to many, like unraveling a beautiful tapestry to study one strand, or breaking a kaleidoscope so you can sort the various colors into piles, but the very effect that makes this a fascinating work (its kaleidoscopic nature) also makes it completely baffling.

Hundreds of names come cascading by, surfacing for a page or two, a paragraph, or even just a line or two, only to disappear, perhaps forever. If they reappear at all it may be a page, ten pages or a hundred pages later. Using Reynolds' index allows you to follow, say, Bradamante (not to be confused with 'Brandimarte') and her adventures throughout. My recommendation would be to slam through the book from cover to cover (the Italian Renaissance lit version of channel surfing for three weeks straight), then use the index to re-experience the stories in greater detail. This classic work, after all, is approximately 180 books in one. It deserves as many reads.