First, I want to clarify about the pasta. It's written that there was a cheese crust with cinnamon and sugar on top, but the pasta itself underneath this crust was with meat and not sweet. Is it common to make a sweet cheese crust?
I really liked the image of the stars, where Fabrizio imagines a face made of stars looking down at him. I wonder, is this some kind of ancient god for him? And the fact that for Fabrizio his dog is like a celestial deity is actually very sweet. I have a dissonance in Fabrizio's image here - I've always perceived that people who are kind to animals are good. But in theory, Fabrizio is only kind to his dog. And although this makes him very likeable to me, I still can't see him as a real dictator and tyrant.
The correspondence of the blessed Corbera with the devil and the display of their letters is something else. Such formal relations with the devil himself, and he politely replied to her. Amazing.
And Concetta - well done in this chapter. I hope her infatuation with Tancredi will pass. Her sarcasm and joke about "knocking down" the monastery doors with a log. That story at dinner disturbed me, it's immediately clear that Angelica doesn't understand the horror of what's happening there at all.
I looked that dish up, it's a kind of timbale called "pasticcio del monsù" AKA "monsieur pie" because it was invented by French cooks. Here's a recipe with a bit of historical context, you can use the auto translate function to read it, it's not perfect but good enough! https://mariaadelecipolla.com/2019/12/28/il-pasticcio-del-gattopardo/
It's true that Fabrizio is kind to his dog, but I think his love is selfish, just like everything about him is selfish. A dog is submissive, loves you unconditionally and never talks back or rebels. The same way he loves Concetta because (he thinks) she's submissive. He likes the uncomplicated feeling of being a master and obeyed.
I read theories that the Blessed Corbera, or rather Isabella Tomasi, the real ancestor who wrote the letters, was schizophrenic, and her noble family in the 15th century built a convent around her to keep her safe, away and silent. Much to think about the treatment of women and the mentally ill, and I'm also reminded of how Rodion's illness in Crime and Punishment is talked on religious and moral terms.
Angelica is... in a sense she is revolutionary, because she takes her sexuality in her own hands (next chapter Fabrizio wishes he lived a couple centuries in the past, so he would get to rape her without consequences!) She's so young though, and in no way ready or mature enough to choose a life partner at 17.
The article is fascinating, and the recipe—I must try making such a pie. It's intriguing; I've never baked pies with pasta before. If they each ate an entire pie at the table, that would've surely overwhelmed them!
Isolation and forced confinement in monasteries were, I believe, practiced universally. I've learned about special chambers built as extensions to monastery church walls, with no door and only a small window. Supposedly, nuns who experienced visions lived there—these were called anchoress houses. These women couldn't leave at all; food was brought to them, and they offered predictions and guidance through the window. I've seen church plans depicting such extensions. So, if one could actually leave this monastery, those were comparatively excellent conditions.
I didn't know about anchorites and anchoresses, I just read the wikipedia article. I wonder if there was an age limit, and how many volunteered vs how many were forcibly imprisoned. Like I said, much to think about!
It's remarkable how a prison cell and this church chamber can be nearly identical in terms of living conditions and human rights, yet differ so drastically in public perception and significance.
I loved it that Concetta had her sharp response ready, on the tip of her tongue. It’s the kind of retort I’d have only come up with hours later. Bravo Concetta.
I'm the same, I can never talk back and only come up with a good biting answer days and months later. Concetta is both very smart and very angry, I wish she were born anywhere or anytime else, she's be unstoppable.
About books… Umberto Eco immediately comes to mind, but I suppose a lot has already been written and said about him. I love his books, although I haven't read them all. I have an unhealthy love for "Foucault's Pendulum" and conspiracy theories.
Also Italo Calvino and Alessandro Baricco. These are the ones I love. I also have a small list of those I'd like to read, but haven't gotten around to yet. Donato Carrisi — as far as I remember, he writes some detective stories. I wanted to read "The Girl in the Fog". And also Giorgio Faletti's "I Kill".
Yes, I was thinking both about Calvino for some lighter reads and Eco, it's a pity that the Name of the Rose would be a perfect November read. Maybe next year? I also want to read books by women, definitely Elsa Morante.
I would gladly reread The Name of the Rose. I've read it before and it fascinated me, even though I don't know much about medieval history. Also, not long ago, I played a game inspired by The Name of the Rose. It's called Pentiment. It's beautifully drawn in the style of a manuscript.
I don't know anything about Elsa Morante. It will be interesting for me to get acquainted with a new author.
Concetta day dreaming of poisoning, wanting to kill….does not bode well.
Not for herself, at least! I wish this book was entirely about her, sometimes.
First, I want to clarify about the pasta. It's written that there was a cheese crust with cinnamon and sugar on top, but the pasta itself underneath this crust was with meat and not sweet. Is it common to make a sweet cheese crust?
I really liked the image of the stars, where Fabrizio imagines a face made of stars looking down at him. I wonder, is this some kind of ancient god for him? And the fact that for Fabrizio his dog is like a celestial deity is actually very sweet. I have a dissonance in Fabrizio's image here - I've always perceived that people who are kind to animals are good. But in theory, Fabrizio is only kind to his dog. And although this makes him very likeable to me, I still can't see him as a real dictator and tyrant.
The correspondence of the blessed Corbera with the devil and the display of their letters is something else. Such formal relations with the devil himself, and he politely replied to her. Amazing.
And Concetta - well done in this chapter. I hope her infatuation with Tancredi will pass. Her sarcasm and joke about "knocking down" the monastery doors with a log. That story at dinner disturbed me, it's immediately clear that Angelica doesn't understand the horror of what's happening there at all.
I looked that dish up, it's a kind of timbale called "pasticcio del monsù" AKA "monsieur pie" because it was invented by French cooks. Here's a recipe with a bit of historical context, you can use the auto translate function to read it, it's not perfect but good enough! https://mariaadelecipolla.com/2019/12/28/il-pasticcio-del-gattopardo/
It's true that Fabrizio is kind to his dog, but I think his love is selfish, just like everything about him is selfish. A dog is submissive, loves you unconditionally and never talks back or rebels. The same way he loves Concetta because (he thinks) she's submissive. He likes the uncomplicated feeling of being a master and obeyed.
I read theories that the Blessed Corbera, or rather Isabella Tomasi, the real ancestor who wrote the letters, was schizophrenic, and her noble family in the 15th century built a convent around her to keep her safe, away and silent. Much to think about the treatment of women and the mentally ill, and I'm also reminded of how Rodion's illness in Crime and Punishment is talked on religious and moral terms.
Angelica is... in a sense she is revolutionary, because she takes her sexuality in her own hands (next chapter Fabrizio wishes he lived a couple centuries in the past, so he would get to rape her without consequences!) She's so young though, and in no way ready or mature enough to choose a life partner at 17.
The article is fascinating, and the recipe—I must try making such a pie. It's intriguing; I've never baked pies with pasta before. If they each ate an entire pie at the table, that would've surely overwhelmed them!
Isolation and forced confinement in monasteries were, I believe, practiced universally. I've learned about special chambers built as extensions to monastery church walls, with no door and only a small window. Supposedly, nuns who experienced visions lived there—these were called anchoress houses. These women couldn't leave at all; food was brought to them, and they offered predictions and guidance through the window. I've seen church plans depicting such extensions. So, if one could actually leave this monastery, those were comparatively excellent conditions.
I didn't know about anchorites and anchoresses, I just read the wikipedia article. I wonder if there was an age limit, and how many volunteered vs how many were forcibly imprisoned. Like I said, much to think about!
I discovered a fascinating article that sheds light on their identities.
https://www.thecollector.com/medieval-anchorites-immured-walled-up-alive/
It's remarkable how a prison cell and this church chamber can be nearly identical in terms of living conditions and human rights, yet differ so drastically in public perception and significance.
I loved it that Concetta had her sharp response ready, on the tip of her tongue. It’s the kind of retort I’d have only come up with hours later. Bravo Concetta.
I'm the same, I can never talk back and only come up with a good biting answer days and months later. Concetta is both very smart and very angry, I wish she were born anywhere or anytime else, she's be unstoppable.
About books… Umberto Eco immediately comes to mind, but I suppose a lot has already been written and said about him. I love his books, although I haven't read them all. I have an unhealthy love for "Foucault's Pendulum" and conspiracy theories.
Also Italo Calvino and Alessandro Baricco. These are the ones I love. I also have a small list of those I'd like to read, but haven't gotten around to yet. Donato Carrisi — as far as I remember, he writes some detective stories. I wanted to read "The Girl in the Fog". And also Giorgio Faletti's "I Kill".
Yes, I was thinking both about Calvino for some lighter reads and Eco, it's a pity that the Name of the Rose would be a perfect November read. Maybe next year? I also want to read books by women, definitely Elsa Morante.
I would gladly reread The Name of the Rose. I've read it before and it fascinated me, even though I don't know much about medieval history. Also, not long ago, I played a game inspired by The Name of the Rose. It's called Pentiment. It's beautifully drawn in the style of a manuscript.
I don't know anything about Elsa Morante. It will be interesting for me to get acquainted with a new author.