Valentino and Sagittarius: Two Novellas

by Natalia Ginzburg

One of Italy's modern writers explores the theme of the break-up of families, with the subsequent destruction of dreams held by family members, in two novellas, with young woman narrators

Genres: Fiction, Italian Literature, Italy, Short Stories, Novella, Literary Fiction, 20th Century

134 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1957

About the author

Natalia Ginzburg (née Levi) was an Italian author whose work explored family relationships, politics during and after the Fascist years and World War II, and philosophy. She wrote novels, short stories and essays, for which she received the Strega Prize and Bagutta Prize. Most of her works were also translated into English and published in the United Kingdom and United States. An activist, for a time in the 1930s she belonged to the Italian Communist Party. In 1983 she was elected to Parliament from Rome as an Independent.

Reviews

[Adam Dalva · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this pair of novellas - I really like Ginzburg - but they share a frustration, which is that the twist in each is quite telegraphed, and then there are no turns afterward. Valentino is much stronger than Sagittarius.

[Alan (on December semi-hiatus) Teder · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Man of Consequence
Review of the NYRB Classics paperback (September 15, 2020) including an Introduction by Cynthia Zarin (2020) of a translation by Avril Bardoni first published in Valentino and Sagittarius: Two Novellas by Henry Holt & Co. (1988) of the Italian language originals Valentino (1951) and Sagittario (1957).

We also had to support my student brother whom my father believed was destined to become a man of consequence.

I only recently discovered Sicilian-Italian author Natalia Ginzburg (1916-1991) through a chance sighting on Twitter (see below). After reading Sagittarius, I then came across The Dry Heart, and I was hooked after another 5-star read. I then searched for more and snapped up this combo as the solo edition Valentino wasn't available in Canada. So this is really only a review of the 1st novella.

Valentino doesn't have quite the same impact as my earlier reads of Ginzburg, but it is compelling reading nevertheless. It is the story of a family with a ne'er do well elder son, the Valentino of the title, who is pampered and spoiled by parents who have high hopes for him. They ignore the needs of their daughters as a consequence. Younger sister Caterina is the narrator and we hear how Valentino ends up marrying a rich older woman who can support his desired high-end lifestyle. His own family is disturbed by this and finally realize he has no ambition to fulfill any of their expectations. You know that it isn't going to end happily, but there isn't the tension and suspense of my earlier reads. A 4-star read regardless.

Nothing like this has ever happened in our family before; not one of us has ever done anything just for money.

The excellent introduction by Cynthia Zarin makes mention of Ginzburg often being compared to Chekhov. I can see that, but what especially strikes me is her manner of the emphatic repetition of phrases which cycle through the narrative, reminiscent of Gertrude Stein and early Hemingway. In Valentino it is the regular refrain of "a man of consequence," in place of the "enough and to spare for the village poor" in Sagittarius. I will definitely seek out further Ginzburg.

Trivia and Link

Actor Bill Nighy reading the Daunt Books edition of "Sagittarius" by Natalia Ginzburg. Image sourced from Twitter.

[Tony · Rating 3 out of 5]

In each of these two novellas there is a female narrator, indifferent of appearance, a student or teacher of literature. We would not be wrong to recognize the author in the role, a voyeuristic role mainly. Meaning she's there, but not particularly involved in the moving plot; there just so the other characters can play off her. Had she (they) been more involved maybe the stories would have had more immediacy for me. Oh, the stories were well-told, even if the denouements were not particularly well-hidden. There was character-development, but again predictable and like something observed.

If there was ever a 3-star read (I liked it; no more, no less) then this was it.

[Baz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Two excellent pieces of fiction, Valentino the long short story, and Sagittarius the novella. And I expected nothing less from this exquisite Italian queen. Her stuff is always emotionally potent. The sentences as the stories got closer to their conclusions felt increasingly like the blows of a hammer. I loved both these works. Dark and disturbing and so compelling – her writing has a rare magnetic pull on me.

Misplaced confidence: these two words sum up the through-line between the two stories. In Valentino, a woman is worn down by a family she marries into, and in Sagittarius a woman is duped by someone with whom she forms an unlikely friendship. Both are narrated by young women who are clearly invested in all the shit, the sister or daughter of those at the center of the story, and they relate the events with detached voices, a detachment borne of grief, exhaustion, helplessness and surrender.

The concision and deceptive simplicity of Ginzburg’s style, the world of complexity, the sharp clarity, all make her intensely gripping. She’s brilliant and I’m so grateful to have discovered her.

[Adam McPhee · Rating 3 out of 5]

So is Natalia Ginzburg the Anti-Ferrante, the AnteFerrante, the Auntie Ferrante, or all three?

Valentino was okay, Sagittarius went on a bit too long.

I liked the writing style. Like a friend relating their own family drama, with something a little more lyrical popping through from time to time.

[cass krug · Rating 4 out of 5]

ginzburg pulls no punches with the endings of these two stories. i closed the book and said out loud to myself “dang that was kind of messed up!”

i love the way that she writes short fiction. the prose is so sharp and there is a dark undertone to it all. if you enjoyed the dry heart, this would be a great next ginzburg to read.

these stories have a lot of similarities, and i can see why they were published together. the narrators of both stories are quite detached from most of the action going on around them. both deal with unhappy relationships, family, class, and people striving to transcend their current situations.

valentino tells the story of a young man, seemingly having no ambition despite being in medical school, marrying a rich older woman (much to the horror of his family). sagittarius follows a mother who embarks on a suspicious friendship in pursuit of making her business ventures come to life.

you can read each story in a sitting, making this a great quick weekend read!

[Samuel Gordon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Natalia Ginzburg never disappoints. Two more memorable novellas with characters so sharply observed they leap out of the page. Great novelists can do more with less.

[D · Rating 4 out of 5]

Two beautiful and moving novellas, both illustrating how human naivety and stupidity may lead to disastrous consequences, for both the protagonist and her/his loved ones. Sagittarius is probably the better story but the shorter Valentino is less unforgiving.

[Ellen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Both these stories are vivid depictions of working class people, each with a female narrator. The women have strong voices and are merciless in their descriptions and analyses of the lives around them, primarily their mothers. They take place in post-World War II Italy and the characters are struggling with poverty, often of spirit as well as of money.

I found both stories to be painful and bleak., although I also found at times a bitter humor (particularly the difficult, complaining and overbearing mother in Sagittarius). There is in the end a hopelessness about life that I often find in Ginzburg which makes her--brilliant as she is--difficult for me to read.

[Marcus (Lit_Laugh_Luv) · Rating 3 out of 5]

[3.5 stars] Two thematically overlapping stories that both pack a punch and can be read in a single sitting. While the twist in each story feels relatively telegraphed, Ginzburg can draw such a vivid cast of characters and their relationships. The prose is simplistic, but it immediately drew me in, and I liked the subtle imagery (especially at the conclusion of Sagittarius). As others have mentioned, a good novelist can do more with less, and Ginzburg's ability to craft characters is unmatched.

Both stories feature complicated relationships between family and romantic partners, and the narrators are both quiet observers who recount the story's events with little input of their own. It adds an interesting layer to an otherwise straightforward story and places the reader directly in the conflict. I preferred Valentino to Sagittarius (which felt needlessly long at times), but both are solid entries on their own.

Very excited to dive into The Dry Heart sometime soon!

[James Murphy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Natalia Ginzburg wrote of families and the intricate webs of emotional alliances and fractures within them. Valentino and Sagittarius are 2 novellas set in postwar Italy about love and obsessions which lead to unhappiness. I think they're terrific.

Valentino tells the story of a young man given all the financial and educational resources his working class family could provide. His 2 sisters were denied any advantages so that Valentino could fulfill the family's expectation that he become "a man of consequence." While completing his medical studies he marries a woman of means who can easily support his entire family. The story Caterina tells of a brother who doesn't have to earn his way displays her generosity in the face of the bitterness and disappointment she and her sister Clara have had to accept. Sagittarius in the 2d story is the name of an art gallery the novella's dreamy, dilettantish mother plans to open with her new friend Scilla. Another story of uneven love, the mother navigates her precarious course toward an entry into the town's artistic life while neglecting and devaluing her own family.

A lot of the success of these stories lies in the voice and points of view in which they're written. Both are told by youngest daughters in neutral tones helping to keep them some distance from the discord and disputes arising from the entanglements of plot. Also, Ginzburg uses the tension between rural or village origins and cities with great success to motivate her characters. The families are originally from smaller localities where their innocence fit easily into quieter lives. Their troubles begin with their moves into bigger towns where they encounter deceit and decay. There's not only the atmosphere of the homes with new activities outside them, like coffee bars or riding stables. Both stories balance the family home with that of the home that fascinates them. It's like the 2 ends of a dumbbell where emotion and energy flow along the bar.

[Mari Janssen · Rating 5 out of 5]

alsof Natalia mij ooit teleur zou stellen 💞

[Misha · Rating 4 out of 5]

"In the drawer of his bedside table we found a letter addressed to Valentino which he must have written some days before, a long letter in which he apologized for having always believed that Valentino would become a man of consequence; there was, indeed, no necessity for him to become a man of consequence, it would be enough if he became a man at all, because at present he was merely a child."

Valentino and Sagittarius are two novellas, both revolving around the downfall caused by a delusion of grandeur. Valentino is the story of a young man whose middle-class parents and sisters sacrifice everything so that he can become a 'man of consequence', who then only ends up marrying a rich woman, spending his days lazing away, leaching both money and emotions from his wife. Sagittarius is the story of a dominating mother with unrealistic aspirations around starting an art gallery with rich patrons - all the while being condescending, manipulative and resentful to her own family - all of which ultimately leads to a fall from her grand illusions.

I have a Goodreads tag called "family and other animals''- this book fits right in. Ginzburg writes unflinchingly about all the ugliness that can constitute a family. The selfishness, jealousy, gaslighting. Mostly, she writes about how some members of a family become the pivot around which everyone's lives oscillate. When the pivot goes awry, there are devastating consequences for all involved. Ginzburg writes about mundane details with such clarity and a tiny bit of schadenfreude (think Iris Murdoch).

Disillusionment is the common theme in both the novellas. Our social hypocrisies, our unrealistic dreams about having more money, more culture, more friends, more more more. Our intangible hopes built around tangible, unreachable objects, people and things. Most of all, our grand ability to deceive ourselves into believing we are someone who we are not. Search for meaningless meaning resulting in thwarted ambitions and tragedy.

At first, I was not a fan of Sagittarius which meandered quite a bit, and felt a bit detached. But I ended up loving both the novellas. Ginzburg's writing is so deceptively simple, underneath which is a turbulent sea of chaos, emotions running riot. Both the novellas feel like a family comedy, inevitably ending in a feeling that one has been punched emotionally, repeatedly. Oh gosh, the endings of both! It felt like I couldn't breathe at first.

This is just the start of my relationship with Ginzburg.

[Story · Rating 3 out of 5]

I quite enjoyed these two novellas, both sharing common themes about our search for meaning and our tragi-comic inability to see ourselves and others as they truly are and how our blindness ultimately affects our lives and the lives of those around us.

The first novella, Valentino, is narrated by Valentino's sister. It tells the story of a family who decides that Valentino is their golden boy, their ticket to a beautiful tomorrow. All of the family's resources are put into the dream of Valentino into a physician. His sisters' ambitions are neglected even though it's quite easy to see that vain, lazy Valentino will never succeed.

The second novella, Sagittarius, narrated from a young woman's POV--in this case, a daughter who describes, step-by-disastrous-step, how her mother's ambitions lead to her downfall. 

I enjoyed Guinzberg's ability to turn these two stories that at first seem to narrate the insignificant details of daily life  into something much deeper and more meaningful. Her writing style reminded me of another favourite Italian author, Elena Ferrante.

[JacquiWine · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 Stars

In recent years, there has been something of a revival of interest in the Italian neorealist writer Natalia Ginzburg, driven by reissues of some of her novels and essays by Daunt Books and NRYB Classics. Valentino and Sagittarius are two separate yet related novellas from the 1950s, reissued together in one stylish edition from NYRB. Both stories deal with the messy business of family relationships, the tensions that arise when one person behaves selfishly at the expense of those around them. When viewed together, they highlight how foolhardy we can be, especially when investing all our hopes in a particular individual or venture – the fallout for the surrounding family members is often painful in the extreme.

Central to the first novella is Valentino, the much-fêted son of an impoverished family who have collectively sacrificed everything to invest in this young man’s education. The father, a retired school teacher, is convinced that Valentino is destined for great things, a belief borne out of a combination of pride and delusion. While the father dreams of a time when his son will be a famous doctor, Valentino himself is lazy, vain and self-absorbed, content to neglect his studies in favour of idle pursuits. It’s a situation typified by the following passage relayed by Caterina, the mild-mannered younger daughter of the family.

My father spent his days in the kitchen, dreaming and muttering to himself, fantasizing about the future when Valentino would be a famous doctor and attend medical congresses in the great capitals and discover new drugs and new diseases. Valentino himself seemed devoid of any ambition to become a man of consequence; in the house, he usually spent his time playing with a kitten or making toys for the caretaker’s children out of scraps of old material stuffed with sawdust… (p. 9)

One day, entirely out of the blue, Valentino announces his engagement to Maddalena, an older woman whose age and appearance cause consternation within the family. Gone are the teenage girlfriends of Valentino’s youth, only to be replaced by this unattractive yet wealthy woman whose looks are marred by her ‘hard, round eyes’ and noticeable facial hair. Catarina wonders how on earth she will explain the situation to her elder sister, Clara, who, despite being married with three children, still relies on her family for financial support.

It was not easy to explain to my sister Clara the turn that events had taken. That a woman had appeared with lashings of money and a moustache who was willing to pay for the privilege of marrying Valentino and that he had agreed; that he had left all the teenagers in berets behind him and was now shopping in town for sitting-room furniture with a woman who wore a sable coat. (p. 12)

Even though relations between Valentino’s mother and Maddalena are strained, the marriage goes ahead, prompting the family to get into debt over the wedding preparations – new clothes must be purchased to avoid losing face in front of Maddalena’s relatives, an expense Valentino’s father can ill afford. Unsurprisingly, Valentino remains largely blind to the impact of his actions on the rest of the family, preferring instead to squander Maddalena’s money on unnecessary luxuries.

To read the rest of my review, please visit:

https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2021...

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

These two novellas by Ginzburg are good. I preferred Valentino over Sagittarius, whose ending you could see coming. There is something very engrossing about the language. They are quiet stories about the dramas that family and friends go though.

[Jarrett Neal]

Two novellas. The first, Valentino, is a slow burn about a pseudo-gigolo who marries a wealthy, older, unattraive woman and the ripple effects his actions have on his family and everyone around him. (The gigolo seems to be a stock character in a lot of Italian literature and films. It makes me wonder . . . well, it just makes me wonder.) That novella is great. Sagittarius, the other novella, is less successful: a story about an overbearing that's all narrative, all telling, which makes it boring to read. Overall, this is a good book and it makes me want to read more of Natalia Ginzburg's work.

[Kaya · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m excited to explore more of Ginzburg’s work, this one didn’t pack the punch I was looking for though. RTC

[Cherise Wolas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Valentino (1951) and Sagittarius (1957), novellas published six years apart in post World War II Italy, share themes, moods, and methods, doomed marriages, sudden deaths, the unrealistic pursuits of domestic, familial, and financial contentment, and social and cultural elevation, the unexpected appearance of an outsider, seemingly of higher status, disrupting the unsatisfactory status quo at home and offering a family member the possibility of realizing those unrealistic hopes, but leading only down self-destructive paths. In Valentino, the narrator, 26-year-old Caterina, studying to be a teacher and without marital prospects, recounts how the family was deprived of most everything to give her brother Valentino everything, a lazy, indifferent and self-absorbed medical student her father believed would become "a man of consequence," and when he became an important doctor, the family would be rewarded with money and social ascent. The novella is set into action when Valentino announces he's marrying an ugly older woman with a fortune. In Sagittarius, the mother's dreams that her pretty daughter Giulia will marry very well are dashed when she marries a poor Jewish immigrant doctor, and her other plans, to create an art gallery in the town, are dashed when she falls for a con woman. These highly accomplished novellas are committed to an uncompromising moral realism and are fascinating.

[Uzu(khanye) · Rating 1 out of 5]

Had to DNF this cause why wasn’t ending😭
Struggled through this like a soldier in vietnam cause I was bored out of my mind.
Overall it was just okay? I think this just wasn’t for me, the writing style reminded me of the taste of plain white bread.
Both novellas felt like someone telling me a long story that I don’t really care about but I have to pretend I do.
I will say I enjoyed Valentino more than Sagittarius, it felt like there was more substance there and it was a little relatable. I also liked how the narrators in both stories were somewhat passive observers, everything was happening to them not with them and that’s real af.

[Giovanni · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I see Antoinetta Grossi… it’s on sight.

[Lauren · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75
I found Valentino just an okay read. Sagittarius was definitely the stronger of the two for me.

[Zain · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ginzburg illustrates that blind faith may also be a consequence of the human condition.

[Justine Kaufmann · Rating 4 out of 5]

Valentino and Sagittarius—Two early works by the Italian writer Natalia Ginzburg recently published together in English by @nyrbooks.

As in Ginzburg’s other works, The Dry Heart and Happiness, As Such, these two novellas revolve around the emotional terrain of family dynamics. In both of these works, these family dynamics are strained at the hands of one family member—a member who in the best light simply appears to be a dreamer, but in the worst light is plain delusional. In Valentino, the better of the two in my opinion, a family has sacrificed everything for a worthless son who, instead of becoming a promising doctor, marries an older, wealthy woman and passes his days lazing about and spending his wife’s money. Sagittarius, on the other hand, tells the story of an ambitious, yet naïve mother whose aspirations to open an art gallery lead to her downfall. While in these works we are treated to elements befitting a soap opera-- betrayal, jealousy, fraud, death—Ginzburg’s prose is clear and terse with a close attention to detail. And this is where Ginzburg’s strength lies—her ability to turn the banalities of ordinary life into something more meaningful.


“In the drawer of his bedside table we found a letter addressed to Valentino which he must have written some days before, a long letter in which he apologized for having always believed that Valentino would become a man of consequence; there was, indeed, no necessity for him to become a man of consequence, it would be enough if he became a man at all, because at present he was merely a child. “

[Janine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was the September selection of the New York Review Classics book club. Quick but enjoyable read. The book contains two novellas of people dreaming about what their lives should be without actually doing anything of substance to shape them into what they could be. In Valentino we are treated to a family who has sacrificed everything for a worthless, lazy son who marries a wealthy but ugly woman to the despair of his parents. That Maddalena is a woman of considerable wealth who is charitable and caring to all has no meaning to this vapid family nor to the son who uses it as a means to an end. The twist in the tale makes this the better of the two stories, I believe, because the sister who narrates it and with whom you feel some warmth and respect reverts back to excusing her worthless brother who had betrayed them all for his selfishness. In Sagittarius we are treated to a story of deceit and betrayal as well. Again narrated by a daughter who is not valued by the mother in the story as happened in Valentino, we are taken on a journey with a woman who delusion’s of grandeur and future wealth takes her straight into the path of a conwoman. This time the twist in the tale is less of a surprise as in Valentino but it still leaves you realizing that dreams with no firm basis in reality cannot be fulfilled and often leave you the lesser for them (in more ways than one). Ginzburg’s writing lends itself to a compelling read.

[Janet · Rating 5 out of 5]

Natalia Ginzburg’s two gripping stories are about the hopes and dreams that parents pin onto children who will never and are indeed fundamentally incapable of living up to the fantasies harbored by the family. The stories are about family dynamics, the constant seesawing of coming together and pulling apart, the faith families put in their relatives even as they repeatedly disappoint, in ways sometimes hilarious and sometimes quite sad and poignant. Beautifully written, with memorable characters.

[Brooke · Rating 3 out of 5]

3/5 stars

[Rendezvouswithbooks · Rating 4 out of 5]

Translated by 𝒜𝓋𝓇𝒾𝓁 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑜𝓃𝒾

रस निष्पत्ति - शृंगार 🥰, करुण😭 (in readers)
भाव निर्मिति - शोक😪, रति 🥰( in characters)

I remember an author famously saying 'the purpose of human life is nothing, it's much like being an insect'

For once I completely disagree. 1 of the biggest demarcation b/w humans & animals is that purpose, that constant quest for something, which is as much as for a man, as for woman

Ginzburg's stories for me totally represent this pursuit of a purpose, it's search & strive to hold on to it

Published six years apart in post-World War II Italy (Valentino in 1951 and Sagittarius in 1957), both these novellas carry burdens of caste, education, beauty with elan

Valentino is the story of 3 siblings - Valentino the brother & sisters Caterina & Clara. Much like an Indian family, this family's hopes are also pinned on their son Valentino. Medical aspirant valentino's sudden decision to marry 'ugly as sin' but wealthy Maddalena, isn't met with happy acceptance by his parents. As life moves ahead, it's ultimately Caterina who takes the centre stage, by not only supporting herself after a failed engagement but also supporting her brother after his failed marriage. With subtle shades of queer love & plot ahead of its time this story definitely stands out

Sagittarius is a story of a mother, narrated by her daughter. A mother who is dissatisfied with life & is constantly searching for a purpose. First by changing city to live, then in her daughters life & their marriages. But when nothing works as per wishes, she looks for friends. Friends in whose company she forgets her own desires. Their life purpose becomes her Goals. But again life dupes her, pushing her on a journey of re-finding & holding herself

Both these stories work on fine lines of class differences. How people of higher social status create disorder. There is also emphasis on how important education is

Ginzburg's beautiful & simplistic writing elevates the whole experience while the translation is very easy on eyes

Read it for stories that will leave an indelible mark on you

[Nancy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reading Ginzburg is like engaging with a family genre scene that’s accompanied by a stark narration. Ginzburg has such a gift in observing intimate minutiae that troupes (eg the prodigal son Valentino or convalescent and mute Giulia) turn into distinct, inventive characters. Hope, selfishness, and endurance are on full display as quotidian agents of these people. Perhaps these stories serve as warnings against our desires, how such sentiments can be responsible for life-changing choices or humiliation.

There is something particularly heartbreaking about witnessing the provincial naivety of the mother in “Sagittarius” in action. She is grating and offers far too many unnecessary criticisms, as mothers do, but ultimately still undeserving of Scilla’s betrayal. Happiness and bounty are not to be chased. Rather, they are the ordinary hours you spend gossiping with a friend at a coffee bar or a day spent going on a walk with another.

[Holly · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book combines two of Ginzburg’s 1950s novellas, Valentino and Sagittarius, into one volume (translated from the original Italian). While I preferred the former, both were appreciated. They overlapped a bit thematically — ambition, money, and family were all major topics — and both had a detached (and only slightly involved) young woman as the narrator. Ginzburg’s writing here is solid, and the repetition of phrases was used well. Definitely leaned towards 4 stars for this one.

I’d recommend this to anyone who likes mid-century Italian lit or finds themselves entrusting NYRB with their next pick.