BOOKS: The Leopard

From Luchiano Visconti's film version of The Leopard.

Ever try do save something good, something that’s disappearing__like a relationship or a situation. But as hard as you try nothing that you do will prevent it from slipping away. There is a certain sadness at that point, a pause in life, a sobering moment, a realization of how temporary life is. The Japanese call it mono no aware, which means an empathy for the ephemeral nature of life. A similar notion is at the heart of Guiseppe Lampedusa’s, The Leopard, a beautifully written novel about the waning days of Sicilian nobility during the Italian Risorgimento of the 1860’s. Sounds boring, but give it a chance. The Leopard is a breathtakingly evocative novel. Lampedusa takes the idea of the fleeting nature of “things” and puts it into a plot that doesn’t move much, but instead lingers on the sadness of this passing moment; which in this case is the passing away of a genteel aristocracy and its gracious and vibrant lifestyle. The main character is the refined and erudite, Fabrizio, Prince of Salina and the plot follows the events that surround his life. When Fabrizio enters a room the reader follows his every thought as he takes in the details of his surroundings, learning about the history of the objects before him. As such the reader can feel the pang of regret that such things will disappear and no longer be appreciated, but forgotten. Lampedusa through his plot and dialogue is able to communicate a strong sense of the Sicilian character. When a representative of Italy’s new government asks Fabrizio to join the newly formed Italian Senate he declines and when pressed further by the representative who describes all the new improvements coming to Sicily, Fabrizio responds that Sicilians “don’t want improvements.” He continues, "They are coming to teach us good manners...But they won't succeed because we think we are gods." Interestingly, Fabrizio is based on one of Lampedusa’s ancestors. This novel is one of modern Italy's greatest literary achievements and beautifully rendered in the original Italian. Archibald Colquhoun's lyrical English translation is a fine one and does the original justice. Recommended.