This Slavitt translation is NOT a COMPLETE Orlando: it omits ten complete books, not counting individual lines from some cantos. Very disappointing, as Amazon etc. omit this detail; the index is rubbish. The translation tries awful hard to be 'modern.' ( )

I read the 1831 verse translation by William Stewart Rose. However there are a small number of pieces missing in that translation which i filled in using the 1591 translation by John Harrington.

Epic italian poem, featuring knights, damsels, magic and the occasional monster. Its not so much a single story as an entire library of them all mixed together. Set against the backdrop of the Moors invading France. This gives the work a lot more cohesion than other epics like the Faerie Queene.
The author does a pretty good job of reminding you who's who and whats been happening, whenever he switches characters. This helps a lot and i wasn't often confused about which character was which.
The best thing about this is the moral greyness of it all. It really is almost 'Game of Thrones' in places. Heroes lie, make bad deals to save their own skin, kill hundreds of soldiers or farmers, and in one intance tried to rape some woman who they just rescued.
I do have to say it has a LOT less attempted sexual assaults than the Faerie Queene, but a lot more consensual sex. It also has less monsters and magical creatures than than Spenser's work but i like that, it means that when things do get strange it has more of an impact.
A few of minor issues, one is the lists of famous people rammed in to the work here and there, these are only of interest to people of the day or historical scholars, but are easily skippable.
The other thing that can annoy is the structure, most of the switches between character are fine but occasionally it happens at an exciting moment and instead of hearing what happens next your forced to get through a completely unrelated plot before getting back to the action.
Also this is a direct sequel to the unfinished 'Orlando Innamorata' and while the version i read contained a quick summary of events from that work i still felt confused at the start and on occasions when it refers back to previous events from Innamorata.
Overall despite not being able to read it in its native language, its REALLY good. There's just so much in here and some of it is just the right amount of morally gray for a modern audience to appreciate. Oh and there's some kick ass females in here aswell. ( )

A wonderful verse translation of a major European romance cycle. When you couple this book with the "Orlando Innamorato" of Boiardo, you have the story of Roland nailed down. And it's a big story, with many more magical elements than the Arthur cycle. I understand that in Italian it is a satire of Roland, but simple English-speaking readers will read this for information, I think.
Still he was the first writer to tell the reader to look at the amount of remaining unread book, when the heroine is in peril. ( )

Bought after hearing an interview with the translator, David R. Slavitt (listen at the following link):

World Books Podcast: Of Naked Maidens and Sea Serpents (February 2, 2010)

The Italian Renaissance epic “Orlando Furioso,” was once a hot volume, at least among the literati, such as Shakespeare, and musicians, such as Scarlotti and Haydn. But Ludovico Ariosto’s long tale of knights and monsters duking it out largely dropped off the radar screen in the 20th century, though it was Italo Calvino’s favorite work of literature. Translator David R. Slavitt wants to rectify that with his English translation of the poem, the first in 30 years. World Books Editor Bill Marx talks to Slavitt, a veteran translator of over eighty volumes of poetry and fiction, about how his playful version reflects the giggly, surrealist mischievousness of the original.

I thought that, since I hadn't read more than excerpts in undergrad, I should try to read the entire work. Well, not really - let's just say the first half, since the entire text is even more massive than this version. Note this fact from the wikipedia page:

Ariosto's work is 38,736 lines long in total, making it one of the longest poems in European literature.

So at 658 pages this isn't the complete poem. From the preface:

"What we have in this volume is slightly more than half of what Aristo wrote - primarily because the production costs of an enormous and unwieldy volume (or volumes) would have made for a discouragingly expensive book, which would have defeated my purpose of broadening Aristo's Anglophone audience."

I read a used copy which has been marked and underlined, with notes added here and there, by former owner Kate Miley (I think). Kate has won me over by the odd doodles and the random cartoon bear she sketched on the last page. At first I was rolling my eyes over the "lol" added here and there, but then I began to really get into the reading, and when I'd come to a "lol" I'd say to the book "I know, right?!" Because yes, there are some really funny moments. (And of course I had to quote them, see below.)

I should also note here that the earliest version of this came out in around 1516. So when you read the more modernized text of this version - the sentiments are still original and some wildly unusual for that time. (Here's the William Stewart Rose translation on Gutenberg, from 1823-31.)

So what's the book like? Hmmm, how to describe this to you...well, it's not like reading your average piece of 16th century poetic literature, not in this translation anyway. Think of this as a cross between a pulp novel, a comic book, a session of Dungeons and Dragons (where the DM has a great sense of humor), and a bodice-ripper romance that's heavy on the near-rape scenes (some of those made me wince, some made me say "oh great, not again" - because yes, it's a trope). In fact it's now inspired me to go read other translations just to see how others have translated some of these words. (Though I'm probably not going to get around to doing that anytime soon.)

I should add that I started reading this book during a particularly crappy time in my life, and I vaguely hoped that reading it might get my mind off of reality. But I was also expecting it to be a standard poetic epic that I'd have to work to understand what's going on - like, say, The Faerie Queene (which I still have not finished). I was actually trying to use it as Put Yourself To Sleep Reading at Bedtime. Instead I ended up reading it, enjoying it, and laughing every so often. And forgetting the crappiness I was in the midst of. Which I very much needed, and not at all what I expected from an epic. Also I'm the quietly-snickering-to-herself type more than laughing type - but I confess, I did laugh. So now I'm going to regard the book fondly just for helping me out. It gets a special bookshelf place. (After it's loaned to my father who's dying to read this translation.)

How much did I enjoy this read? Read the following quotes, and then the Reading Progress section. The amount I've bothered to quote is always a sign I'm having fun. For those wanting the quick version without having to read the HUGE amount of quotes - I think I quoted this book more than anything else I've read. Because I wanted a place to quick reference some of these lines. And then note how many stars I gave it.

IMPORTANT! My reaction is completely due to this particular translation. Having looked at one or two examples of previous translations - reading them would be a completely different experience.


Quotes:
(Not always copying the full stanza, just the funny and interesting bits.)

Canto II, 10
Rinaldo raises up Fusberta, which,
believe it or not, is the name of his broadsword.

.......

Canto II, 11
She's fleeing from Rinaldo, and here he stands,
victorious, and no one is left to protext her.
Unless she wants to give in to his demands,
as, if she remains there, he would expect her
to do, she had better make some other plans
and leave at once, out of self-respect or
simply fear. She does not make excuses
but with a twitch of the reins of her horse vamooses.

.......

Canto II, 58
The knight once more falls silent. You remember the knight
is talking to Bradamante. Those quotation
marks were reminders of this. But his story was quite
long, and during the course of his narration,
you may have forgotten the frame. But that's all right.

.......

Canto II, 72
And there it is, easy as pie, although
why pie is easy is difficult to explain.

.......

Canto II, 76 (last stanza before Canto III)
And then? Is this the end? But surely not.
The smaller twigs of the elm branch break her fall,
as you might have guessed, with all those pages you've got
in your right hand. So this cannot be all
there is. She doesn't die here, but just what
happens to her after this close call
that leaves her on the bottom, stunned and hurt so
we'll get to soon, perhaps in Canto Terzo.

.......

Canto III, 67
"...the odds would still be against you, for that mad
necromancer inside that arrogant
steel castle of his rides about on that bad
hippogryph that flies in extravagant
aerial maneuvers. But worse, you'll find,
is his shield with which he can render his foes blind.

68
"when he uncovers it. And do not expect
that you can contrive some stratagem - to fight
with your eyes closed perhaps. ..."

.......

Canto III, 77
She does not let him sit too close to her knowing
that he could rob her and then absquatulate.

.......

Guinevere, a king's daughter, is accused of being unchaste and thus law decrees she will be put to death. Rinaldo thinks this is a bad law, even if Guinevere has slept with someone:

Canto V, 66
"If the same ardor moves both men and women
to the sweetness of love, it is unfair
that women should be punished for being human
once, while men are praised as debonair
for doing it as often as they can do. Man
and woman should be treated the same. I declare
that I mean, with the help of God, to right this wrong
that is so outrageous and has gone on so long."

.......

Canto VI, 20
The island was like the one that Arethusa
lived on (it was Ortygia, I recall),
fleeing the river god. (You have to use a
book of myths to get these stories all
in order.) Let's say it was nice (and who's a
critic of islands anyway?) The small
island loomed much larger as they got lower,
and the hippogryph flew gentlier and slower.

.......

Ruggiero must fight the "cruel giantess" Erifilla:

Canto VII, 3
Her armor, first, was set with gems of many
colors - rubies, emeralds, chrysolite.
She was mounted, not on a horse that any
person might want, but a wolf on which she'd fight.
Ruggiero took a second look at this when he
approached and wondered if she had trained it to bite.
And it wasn't a normal wolf but enormous in size,
tall as an ox, and with gleaming yellow eyes.

.......

Canto VIII, 71
...He tries to focus his mind without
success and these notions, whirling about like perns
in a gyre, or, say, like moonbeams put to rout
as they bounce off the surface of water and one discerns
on the ceiling a dance of their tiny lights that are acting
as if they were terrified - it can be distracting.

.......

Orlando wondering where Angelica is, and worrying about her possible rape (because her loss of virginity would be such a trauma for *him* because of course she belongs to him - all males in this story seem to have this attitude towards Angelica), among other dangers:

Canto VIII, 77
"And where are you now, my hope, my love, without
my protection? Do wicked wolves surround you,
their slathering jaws agape as they circle about
their prey? That delicate flower that I found, you
beautiful blossom the angels gave me. I doubt
that you can survive untouched, unplucked, your dew
still on those lovely petals. Or have they by force
taken you? I worry about that, of course.

78
"And if the worst that I can imagine has come
to pass, what can I wish for but a quick
death? O God, I pray to you to have some
mercy. Afflict me some other way, sick
crippled, blind, dishonored, deaf and dumb,
but spare her. Otherwise, I shall have to pick
some painful form of suicide." ...

.......

Must give you three stanzas here so that you can see how fun Aristo is - what at first seems a pacifist rant then becomes something else in stanza 90. All about the modern technology of destruction - in this time period - the cannon.

Canto IX, 88
And neither is Orlando hanging around.
He departs, having taken but one
thing - that machine of fire, iron, and sound,
a weapon of mass destruction, that terrible gun,
which he does not want for his own use, having found
it to be unfair and unsporting: only a son
of a bitch would think to use it in a fight.
It isn't at all appropriate for a knight.

89
It ought to be destroyed, he thinks, to keep
anyone from ever making use
of it against men to kill and to estrepe.
He cannot think of any sane excuse
for it to exist, and he throws it into the deep
of the sea to make men and women safer, whose
futures will not be blighted by such an obscene,
inelegant, and dangerous machine.

90
He also finds it politically incorrect
in the way it makes a weak man equal to
the strongest, so that all rank and respect
are fundamentally threatened, for otherwise who
would know his place or observe the correct
distinctions? Civilization as he knew
it would be over, equality would reign.
The very idea gives our paladin pain.

.......

I had no idea orc had so many definitions. In this case it's a sea monster:

Canto X, 101
Ruggiero, however, has his lance at the ready,
and with it he strikes the orc, a writhing mass
that is more a blob than a beast, except for the head he
is aiming at. Its mouth is a dark crevasse
with protruding teeth like a boar's. Ruggiero's steady
lance strikes at the forehead but he has
little success. It's as if he is striking blows
on granite or iron. It's perfectly otiose.

.......

Hey look, it's more cannon ranting! And the devil is to blame!

Canto XI, 22
Had it been up to Orlando we would all
be much better off. But the cannon's cruel inventor
was the one who tempted Eve and contrived the fall
of mankind from the garden, the arch tormentor,
whose clear intention was that what we call
guns and cannons would one day re-enter
the world of men, in our grandparents' time or before
and would transform both society and war.

23
A hundred fathoms down it wasm but some
necromancer raised it from the deep
and gave it to the Germans who learned from
repeated trial and error how to keep
from blowing themselves up. The curriculum
of the devil suited them well and with a steep
learning curve they rediscovered its use.
But secrets tend to spread and reproduce.

24
...And what this means is that anyone, high or low,
is the equal of anyone else. It has done away
with rank and order, and honor, and valor, too,
and the rabble are just the same as me and you.

.......

Enchantress Melissa (one of the good ones) explains the castle that's a magical trap set by the villain Atlas - and in which the reader can see as a metaphor...:

Canto XIII, 49
She reveals his trick of intuiting the desire
of every person and offering just that
for which the man's or woman's heart is on fire,
but whatever it is, it's just out of reach, which is what
keeps them there, searching through the entire
structure for that voice they keep hearing but
can never quite locate. It is a quest
that can never succeed but from which they can never rest.

.......
( )

After the famous protagonist of the French "Chanson the Roland" falls in love in Boiardo's "Orlando Innamorato", Ludovico Ariosto decides to give another turn of the screw to Orlando's humanity (something that had never happened before in the literature of this era, as the heros of the sagas didn't have human weaknesses) by making him go crazy. This happens during the time in which the Christian king of the moment is inmersed in a war against the muslin kingdom. Two other important characters weave their own plot line, Ruggiero and his beloved, a recognized knight of the kingdom herself. As she is Christian, and he is Muslin there are a number of twists of the plot until they are actually able to marry and live happily ever after. An incredibly complex plot with many alegoric situations. ( )

Perhaps it speaks more to the age I live in than that of the author, but I'm always surprised to find a reasonable, rational mind on the other end of the pen. Though his work is full of prejudice and idealism, it is constantly shifting, so that now one side seems right, and now the other.

His use of hyperbole and oxymoron prefigures the great metaphysical poets, and like them, these are tools of rhetoric and satire. Every knight is 'undefeatable', every woman 'shames all others by her virtue', and it does not escape Ariosto that making all of them remarkable only makes more obvious the fact that none of them are.

Ariosto's style flies on wings, lilting here and there, darting, soaring. He makes extensive use of metafiction, both addressing the audience by means of a semi-fictionalized narrator and by philosophical explorations of the art of poetry itself, and the nature of the poet and his patron.

As with most epics, Ariosto's asides to the greatness of his patron are as jarring as any 30-second spot. His relationship to his various patrons was extremely difficult for him, as he was paid a mere pittance and constantly drawn away from his writing to deliver bad news to the pope (if you're thinking that's a bad job, Ariosto would agree--the See nearly had him killed).

This is likely the reason that these moments of praise fall to the same unbelievable hyperbole as the rest. His patrons could hardly be angry at him for constantly praising them, but his readers will surely be able to recognize that his greatest compliments are the most backhanded, and merely serve to throw into stark contrast the hypocrisy of man.

Since we will all be oblivious hypocrites at some point (for most of us, nearly all the time), the only useful defense is the humility to admit our flaws. Great men never have it so easy: they cannot accept their mistakes, but must instead be buried by them.

Though Ariosto often lands on the side of the Christians, his Muslims are mighty, honorable, well-spoken, and as reasonable in their faith. The only thing which seems to separate the two sides is their petty squabbling.

Likewise, he takes a surprisingly liberal view of sex and gender equality, with lady knights who are not only the match for any man, but who need no marriage to complete their characters. He even presents homosexuality amongst both sexes, though with a rather light hand.

His epic is not the stalwartly serious sort, like Homer, Virgil, or Dante. Ariosto is a humanist, and has none of the fetters of nationalism or religious idealism to hold him in place. His view of man is a contrary, shifting, absurd thing. The greatest achievements of man are great only in the eyes of man.

By showing both sides of a conflict, by supporting each in turn, Ariosto creates a space for the author to inhabit. He is not tied to some system of beliefs, but to observation, to recognition; not to the ostensible truth of humanity, but to our continuing story.

Ariosto took a great leap from Petrarch's self-awareness. While Petrarch constantly searched and argued in his poems, he found a sublime comfort in the grand unknown. Ariosto is the great iconoclast, not only asking why of the most obvious conflicts, but of the grandest assumptions. The grand mystery is only as sacred as it is profane.

Ariosto is also funny, surprising, and highly imaginative. Though his work is defined by its philosophical view, this view is developed slowly and carefully. It is never stated outright, but is rather the medium of the story: a thin, elegant skein which draws together all characters and conflicts.

The surface of the story itself is a light-hearted, impossible comedy. It is no more impossible than the grand heights of any other epic, but only seems so because it is not girt tightly with high-minded seriousness. Perhaps Ariosto's greatest gift is that he is doing essentially the same thing all other authors do, the same situations and characters, but he makes you laugh to see it.

To be able to look at life simply as it is and laugh is the only freedom we will ever know. It is all wisdom. For this gift, I hail fair Ariosto, the greatest of all epicists, all poets, all writers, all humanists, all men, and never to be surpassed. ( )

In 778 Charlemagne made an incursion over the Pyrenees into Spain. Needing to take his army to the Rhine to meet another challenge, he retreated, leaving a rearguard to protect his army as it withdrew. That rearguard, led by Count Hruodland (later known as Roland) was defeated at Roncesvalles.

This episode gave us the legend of the brave Roland, who died blowing his horn to summon Charlemagne to return and rescue the overwhelmed soldiers. The story grew ever more elaborate with every retelling. In Italy Roland became Orlando. By the 1400s France and Italy nostalgically looked back on a lost world that never existed, the world of chivalry. Roland (or Orlando) figured largely in this literature that grew up about knights, ladies, dragons and magicians.

The Italian poet Matteo Boiardo wrote his contribution to the Roland cycle, Orlando Innamorato (1495). Boiardo died before finishing the planned final third part of his poem.

That brings us to Ludovico Ariosto who set out to finish Boiardo’s epic. Ariosto was a superior poet and his Orlando Furioso is a truly major work and an important part of the Western Canon. It is also the most Italian book I have ever read. The mix of magic, history, humor, irony all combine in a way that ends up feeling Italian, yet that I can’t exactly explain why. But anyone who has a close familiarity with Italian culture will understand what I mean. I can give an example. A brave knight saves the beautiful damsel. She offers herself as a reward. The brave knight then starts unbuckling his armor in order to collect his payment. Finally the lady grows bored with the laborious, time-consuming knightly undressing and wanders off. This irreverent original twist on an old story, done with a sly smile is pure Ariosto and pure Italy.

Ariosto is not only a good poet, he is a great storyteller. Because of this Orlando Furioso becomes a wonderful book in Guido Waldman’s prose translation. I have rarely found translations of poetry to be satisfactory. As one man said, you can translate the words, but who can translate the music?

It’s a shame this terrific book has slid off the modern reader’s radar. The Renaissance was more than pictures and statues. It was a complete rebirth of the western mind. Orlando Furioso is as important a work of art as Botticelli’s Primavera or Raphael’s School of Athens.

It’s a big book. Give yourself some time to enjoy this burly, mirthful work. It’s worth it. ( )

The best book ever about going mad and killing everybody and everything in sight.

8432039829

Edizione antiquaria ( )

My edition is in the Bohn's Libraries (1907) 2 vols., 532 and 537 p.

Boswell in a letter to William Temple (see Note 6).

It gets mentioned so much in Don Quixote...maybe I'll try it at some point.