And now rushed the unfortunate wildly through the streets of Venice. He railed at fortune; he laughed and cursed by turns; yet sometimes he suddenly stood still, seemed as pondering on some great and wondrous enterprise, and then again rushed onwards, as if hastening to its execution.
Matthew Gregory Lewis was an English novelist and dramatist, often referred to as "Monk" Lewis, because of the success of his classic Gothic novel, The Monk.
Matthew Gregory Lewis was the firstborn child of Matthew and Frances Maria Sewell Lewis. Both his parents' families had connections with Jamaica. Lewis' father owned considerable property in Jamaica, within four miles of Savanna-la-Mer, or Savanna-la-Mar, which was hit by a devastating earthquake and hurricane in 1779. Lewis would later inherit this property.
In addition to Matthew Gregory Lewis, Matthew and Frances had three other children: Maria, Barrington, and Sophia Elizabeth. On 23 July 1781, when Matthew was six and his youngest sister was one and a half years old, Frances left her husband, taking the music master, Samuel Harrison, as her lover. During their estrangement, Frances lived under a different name, Langley, in order to hide her location from her husband. He still, however, knew her whereabouts. On 3 July 1782, Frances gave birth to a child. That same day, hearing of the birth, her estranged husband returned. Afterwards, he began to arrange a legal separation from his wife. After formally accusing his wife of adultery through the Consistory Court of the Bishop of London on 27 February 1783, he petitioned the House of Lords for permission to bring about a bill of divorce. However, as these bills were rarely granted, it was rejected when brought to voting. Consequently, Matthew and Frances remained married until his death in 1812. Frances, though withdrawing from society and temporarily moving to France, was always supported financially by her husband and then later, her son. She later returned to London and then finally finished her days at Leatherhead, rejoining society and even becoming a lady-in-waiting to the Princess of Wales. Frances and her son remained quite close, with her taking on the responsibility of helping him with his literary career. She even became a published author, much to her son’s dislike.
Matthew Gregory Lewis began his education at a preparatory school under Reverend Dr. John Fountain, Dean of York at Marylebone Seminary, a friend of both the Lewis and Sewell families. Here, Lewis learned Latin, Greek, French, writing, arithmetic, drawing, dancing, and fencing. Throughout the school day, he and his classmates were only permitted to converse in French. Like many of his classmates, Lewis used the Marylebone Seminary as a stepping stone, proceeding from there to the Westminster School, like his father, at age eight. Here, he acted in the Town Boys’ Play as Falconbridge in King John and then My Lord Duke in High Life Below Stairs. Later, again like his father, he began studying at Christ Church, Oxford on 27 April 1790 at the age of fifteen. He graduated with a bachelor’s degree in 1794. He later earned a master's degree from the same school in 1797.
This is a fantastic short read/Gothic novella which I truly enjoyed reading. The setting is the always impossibly romantic setting of Venice - opening with a beautiful evocation of the city by moonlight (I recently read a critical essay which claimed that Shelley "borrowed" this very same beautiful opening for his own gothic work, Zastrozzi, and it has to be said, the descriptions are very similar!) In this same beautifully moonlit city, we come across the hideously deformed Abellino, starving, outcast and with no option but to fall in with the Banditti "which infest" the city. (I'm not sure if I'd call 5 Banditti an "infestation" but never mind). Needless to say, all is not as it appears. Abellino might have one eye (or two? the author forgets himself at times), might be hideously deformed or might actually be quite pleasing. He might be a ruthless cut-throat, or he might be an honourable man - I couldn't possibly spoil it for you - there is so much fun to be had in the finding out.
Along the way, there is Rosabella, our heroine - naturally she is beautiful, pure of heart and full of enlightened sensibility. Also there are a few members of the Venetian Royal family, the dreaded Consiglio di Deici and some very nice scenery. Absolutely FREE on kindle - and such a joy to read.
[These notes were made in 1981:]. The Bravo of Venice, by Matthew G. (Monk) Lewis, translator/adaptor, from the German original by Zchokke. 1805. I begin to understand the contemporary critical distaste for the German novel. One does not know quite how much to blame Lewis, for he admits to sundry alterations, additions and deletions, but almost certainly the bald, almost folk-tale like structure, and the insistence on (almost ritual) slaying are from the original, for we have seen how elaborately Lewis can fill out a narrative when he feels like it. Besides the absence of any characterization, even at the usual perfunctory Gothic novel level, we have also the double-identity hero/villain (who turns out to be morally proper enough to marry the heroine) to make this almsot a fairy-tale. The thing is not without a certain appeal, but that appeal has almost nothing to do with any outstanding qualities in the telling of it.
Di solito, la figura del “bravo” viene associata ad Alessandro Manzoni e naturalmente alla simpatica combriccola che, diciamolo, rende più movimentata la storia: Griso, Nibbio, Biondino, Carlotto, Tanabuso, Sfregiato, Tiradritto, Montanarolo, Grignapoco, Squinternotto e spero di non aver dimenticato nessuno. Ne “I Promessi Sposi” i bravi sono figure esclusivamente negative, mercenari al servizio del più forte, del più potente e del più danaroso. Li abbiamo visti far bene il loro lavoro: minacciare il curato, rapire Lucia, ma li abbiamo visti anche tradire quando la situazione avrebbe potuto volgere a loro svantaggio come nel caso più celebre che vede il Griso come protagonista d’eccellenza. Sulla figura del Griso, ci sarebbe molto da dire e avrei parecchi argomenti in difesa della sua figura (non me ne voglia Manzoni, ma “abominevole” mi sembra un termine un po’ esagerato considerando altri personaggi con la morale ben più sporca della sua), ma credo che lascerò a tempi migliori la sua apologia. Sì, perché nel romanzo di Lewis, già autore de “Il Monaco” lo ricordiamo, la figura del bravo non è che risollevi le sorti, tutt’altro. Si potrebbe considerare Abellino, il protagonista del romanzo e appunto il bravo in questione, come un personaggio camaleontico e forse antesignano di quei personaggi inetti che caratterizzeranno la produzione sveviana e pirandelliana. Del resto, i romanzi gotici sono celebri per la creazione di quei personaggi grigi e anti eroici, solo che a differenza di Svevo e Pirandello, all’interno dei quali l’inettitudine è motivo di rovina e di ostacolo alla realizzazione personale del personaggio, all’interno dei romanzi gotici questi inetti hanno la fortuna sfacciata di cadere sempre in piedi.
Prima però di procedere, è necessario sfatare un mito: la figura del bravo non è priva di morale. Manzoni in questo ha fortemente influenzato il nostro giudizio, tuttavia Manzoni vive anche a cavallo tra due epoche in cui l’uomo aveva delle certezze ben salde che di per sé era anche difficile mettere in discussione. Il Novecento rimescolerà le carte in tavola, ma Manzoni il Novecento non l’ha mai visto. La figura del bravo una morale ce l’ha eccome, solo che non coincide con la nostra morale, cioè quella quasi universalmente riconosciuta. Ma se volessimo inquadrare il modo di vivere di un bravo all’interno di correnti filosofiche, dovremmo per forza di cose rispolverare: Diogene il Cinico e Hobbes. Anche la loro è una morale, del resto, la morale la crea l’uomo, non è una struttura universale e fissa. La morale dei bravi si riassume semplicemente nel: vivere rendendo conto a loro stessi e cercare di sopravvivere, cosa che avremmo fatto tutti se fossimo stati nella posizione di reietti o fuggitivi.
Abellino non fa eccezione, il punto è che l’autore attua uno stratagemma macchinoso per renderlo forzatamente positivo. Ora, l’espediente del Deus Ex Machina, (in greco antico: ἀπὸ μηχανῆς θεός) è uno dei trucchi più antichi per risolvere un dato conflitto all’interno della storia. Tipico della tragedia greca, è poi approdato nella letteratura latina. Nella sua accezione originaria, essendo nato per il teatro, l’espressione significava esattamente questo: un dio si calava dall’alto con l’ausilio di una macchina scenica e risolveva una situazione altrimenti irrisolvibile. Oggi, la tecnica viene usata dagli scrittori che sogliono complicare all’ennesima potenza il loro libro e i rapporti tra i personaggi, al punto da dover creare una coincidenza, o un fatto ad hoc che sbroglia la situazione. Il problema è che questa coincidenza, o fatto, stride con la struttura narrativa creata. All’interno di questo romanzo, l’espediente è talmente sorprendente da risultare passabile, anche se di fatto l’autore non fa nulla per camuffarlo.
Che sia un tributo dell’autore al teatro classico? In effetti, lo stile è poliedrico. Ci sono delle parti di narrativa, ma ci sono anche dei pezzi impostati a mo’ di canovaccio teatrale.
Non mancano ovviamente le tipiche eroine gotiche, sempre accompagnate da una donna anziana che è assurta al ruolo di confidente e amica saggia. In Rosabella non è difficile vedere l’Antonia che già avevamo visto ne “Il Monaco”, fortunatamente però, con un destino quantomeno più felice. Una donna sballottata dagli eventi che si rende Alcesti nell’ultima parte del romanzo (contribuendo a far parte di quel Deus Ex Machina) andando a rinnegare il comportamento tenuto nelle pagine precedenti.
Si apre quindi un tema che è quello del doppelgänger, particolarmente caro alla letteratura di fine Settecento- inizio Ottocento e che in questo romanzo costituisce un filo conduttore che coinvolge quasi tutti i personaggi.
Un romanzo breve, ma “da leggere” se si è appassionati del genere gotico e se si ha amato “Il Monaco”, oppure se semplicemente si vuole avere a che fare con un bravo diverso da quelli di manzoniana memoria.
This was completely the wrong book to read back-to-back with the Iliad. My rereading of the epic taught me that it's not nearly so much a good story as a good telling that counts, that digression is fabulous, and that we've already pretty much heard all of the stories we're ever going to hear in one form or another. This little ditty By "Monk" Lewis had none of the verve of that fabulous Gothic romance that provided his nickname. This seemed an exercise in brevity, more play than romance or novel (which, in fact, it later became) and something of a predictable snooze. Only murder? I'd hoped for so much more!
The edition of this novel that I read was published by Zittaw Press published in 2008. This edition also includes the play that Lewis wrote based on The Bravo of Venice. The introduction and editing was excellently done by K. Willis Lloyd. Although not a true Gothic like Lewis The Monk, it was more of a romance based on Z.H. D. Zschokke's German novel published in 1797. The name Aballino, the Bravo assassin strikes terror in hearts of all of Venice. Count Rosalvo will rid the city of this Bravo for the hand of Rosabella, the Doge's niece.
the writing was a little boring at times, but maybe that's just the polish version that i was reading. the ending makes up for all the cons, it was unrealistic but great
The story was pretty boring, it didn't really get good until the last two chapters. The setting was nice and the characters were ok, just a bit boring.
First romance I have read, and boy did it fulfil all of my expectations. Two people almost died from being spurned by their precious beloved, there are numerous plot twists and one single man is able to dispatch an untold amount of guards and fighters all by himself. I now understand Lennox and her heroine so much the better.
Enjoyed reading this, though it is a bit absurd - but fun as it took place in and around Venice, where we were as I read it. A far fetched (?) mystery (?) historical (?) novel about the 'bravo' who wins the fair maiden through his use of disguise.