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Part of the book series: The New Middle Ages ((TNMA))

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Abstract

A striking example of Boccaccio’s modernism occurs in the seventh tale of Day VIII, when the young scholar Rinieri, who has been sorely jilted by the Florentine seductress Elena, upbraids her as follows: “io mi conosco, né tanto di me stesso apparai mentre dimorai a Parigi, quanto tu in una sola notte delle tue mi facesti conoscere” (VIII. 7.85) (I know myself, for you made me learn more about myself in a single night than I learned during the entire time I lived in Paris) (516). Rinieri’s ironic praise holds both specific and general meaning. Specifically, he is telling Elena that her cruelty to him has educated him about the world’s wicked ways and his own innocent vulnerability to them. Generally, Boccaccio suggests that theoretical knowledge (which Rinieri acquired as a student in Paris) cannot avail us unless seasoned by worldly experience; and that we cannot achieve self-knowledge without considering ourselves within our social context.

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Notes

  1. Cicero, The Republic, The Laws, trans. Niall Rudd (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 8. We have used Rudd’s translation here for the sake of clarity; the Latin is from the Loeb Classical Library: Quibus de rebus, quoniam nobis contigit, ut idem et in gerenda re publica aliquid essemus memoria dignum consecuti et in explicandis rationibus rerum civilium quandam facultatem non modo usu, sed etiam studio discendi et docendi essemus … auctores, cum superiores ali fuissent in disputationibus perpoliti, quorum res gestae nullae invenirentur, ali in gerendo probabiles, in disserendo rudes. De re publica, I. viii.13; see also II.xi.22 and II.xxx.52.

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  2. All of these characters were based on real Florentine personalities. Calandrino (Nozzo di Perino, fl. 1301–1318) was known as an unexciting painter and an utter fool. Buffalmacco (ca. 1262–1340) was an able painter, whose elegant “Triumph of Death” still survives. His biographer, Giorgio Vasari, makes much of Buffalmacco’s pranks. When his early master Andrea made him rise to work before dawn, “This being displeasing to Buonamico (Buffalmacco), who was made to rise out of his soundest sleep, he began to think of finding a way whereby Andrea might give up rising so much before daylight to work, and he succeeded; for having found thirty large cockroaches, or rather blackbeetles, in a badly swept cellar, with certain fine and short needles he fixed a little taper on the back of each of the said cockroaches, and, the hour coming when Andrea was wont to rise, he lit the tapers and put the animals one by one into the room of Andrea, through a chink in the door. He, awaking at the very hour when he was wont to call Buffalmacco, and seeing those little lights, all full of fear began to tremble and in great terror to recommend himself under his breath to God, like the old gaffer that he was, and to say his prayers or psalms; and finally, putting his head below the bedclothes, he made no attempt for that night to call Buffalmacco, but stayed as he was, ever trembling with fear, up to daylight. In the morning, then, having risen, he asked Buonamico if he had seen, as he had himself, more than a thousand demons; whereupon Buonamico said he had not, because he had kept his eyes closed …” Giorgio Vasari’s Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, trans. Gaston de Vere (New York: Knopf, 1996), vol. I, pp. 142f.

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  3. For notes on the original word-play, see Giovanni Boccaccio, Decameron, 2 vols, ed. Vittore Branca (Turin: Einaudi, 1992), pp. 987–93.

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© 2012 Michaela Paasche Grudin and Robert Grudin

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Grudin, M.P., Grudin, R. (2012). Boccaccio’s Ship of Fools: Day VIII. In: Boccaccio’s Decameron and the Ciceronian Renaissance. The New Middle Ages. Palgrave Macmillan, New York. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137056849_9

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