The Leopard: A Novel

Don Fabrizio, the aristocratic Leopard of the title, first appears reciting the Rosary with his family.

The Rosary is a prayer at once ornate and simple. Simple because it is assembled from just a few formulaic prayers: the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria, framed by the Credo and the Salve Regina. Ornate because of the pattern in which the prayers are arranged and the mysteries on which the recitor meditates as part of saying the complete Rosary. Like much about the Roman Catholic church, the Rosary is flamboyant, formal, and majestic but as most often it is said in a private or family setting, it is also understated, meditative, and intimate.

This prayer wonderfully illustrates Don Fabrizio's character. He is flamboyant, formal, traditional, rich and yet thoughtful, respectful, considerate, kind, and intellectual.

Don Fabrizio is an expansive man, a benevolent Sicilian aristocrat towering above the peasants living on his domains but without a threat and ultimately overjoyed that his beloved nephew Tancredi is to marry Angelica, a beautiful girl born of peasant stock. Despite his position above his tenants, whose irregular rents he accepts in chickens and other kind, the Leopard knows his place and supports the monarchy, behaving as humbly towards the King of Italy as the village mayor does towards him. There is structure.

Living in the last days of the old regime as Italy finally is becoming a single nation, Don Fabrizio refuses a senatorial position; he prefers instead to devote himself to astronomy. He medidates while history runs its course, letting the younger generation run the world. His time has passed.

Vincent Poirier, Dublin

il Gatto Pardo (The Leopard) by Giuseppe di Lampedusa seems to be listed as a classic piece of Italian literature. Personally, I did not find it to be as "classic" as I thought it might be.

The story line follows the ending days of a Sicilian "Don" and his time period during the onsalught of the "Italian unification" (Risorgimento)which was basically forced upon the Sicilians by Garabaldi in the 1860's.

The authors descriptions of the lifestyles of those, rich and poor was extremely descriptive, and of course interesting. However, somewhere along the line, my interest in the story faded like the world around Don Fabrizio.

The story of Don Vito Corleone in the "Godfather" seems to paralell the same basic familial structure of wife, daughters, and sons (however,not in the Gangster sense).

Don Fabrizio eventually realizes that the times are quickly changing as is his power, and yet...there is nothing to do but accept it.

Perhaps, I am not Sicilian enough to have appreciated the true message and story line quality of this book, but, "The Leopard" just seemed to loose it's spots for me.

The vigour and audacity of this novel is never compromised throughout its scope and vision, and moreover it is persistently haunted by spectres of an apocalyptic doom loitering lustfully. To read this novel is to witness the expression of a community in distress as it finds itself fidgeting to keep its composure while arrested amidst a stalemate, as it were a cultural limbo. The author fashions a circumventing microcosmic portrait that is nostalgic and entertaining. Episodes of ribaldry abound yet they always steer clear of expressing disrespect for a tradition and a cultural milieu that preserves its ambiguity and its inconsolable propriety. The discomfort of the probing characters is strung and picked so as to strike a melodious ravishment that transgresses all values and disarms the structural apogee of the narrative. In its many particulars, and brusque, yet delicate lyrical tendencies, this novel gives delusional recordings of an island distant and beyond memory. Here we hear the tourbadour's chant nearing with incredulous apathy, both the harmony of a siren song and the discordant twang of a swan song lingering beyond the sheets prescribed. It's as if a protracted melancholia overtook a whole culture and a poetic instinct becomes embalmed in its people. Sicilians have a heritage of millions of years which resonates throughout, and apologizing for my not being a Sicilian, I would suggest a visit to Siracusa, Palermo, Catania, or even off the coast to Taranto (Calabria) to remind us that the Odyssey's tales mostly take place in and around this island. Di Lampedusa is a classic man of letters, with an Odyssyan propensity for exploring the whims of human nature and exposing the forces that cross the devide that stands between loyalty and desire. I have found such a high quality of "delightful disturbance" only in a handful of artists. Primaraly in De Chirico's paintings, which parallels astoundingly well alongside any reading of "Il Gattopardo," much more incisively than any Surrealist writing ever has; In literature one may well liken Di Lampedusa to the late Thomas Mann (esp. "The Magic Mountain"). In Di Lampedusa a uniique stunning clarity pervades. It is only in accepting the fading and palliating of life's "truth" that the ensuing beravement of sorrow commences to compose a tale that focuses on the cultural decadence, such occurs here but it is in keeping with a classical tradition that is proverbial. However Di Lampedusa conspires to invite us on a voyage with sails withdrawn, impressively seized within a standstill. Chimed from afar floats a decadent sweltering heat, while basking underneath is found the novel's storyline. Please plug your ears, or have someone tie you to something or other, else would that you were to identify yourself with one of the novel's lives you'd never leave: In blissfull doom you'd perish along this shoreline! Hereby the island's lure is a perfect lie that speaks fables of yesterday in daring, lingering overtones, consonant with the cunning splendid mirage of sex appeal. A Book for all and none....

The book I purchased used was in very, very good condition. I am pleased to have Amazon as a resource for used books. It was also delivered in a very timely fashion. It came to me in just a fews days.

Honestly, I don't usually fall for books like "The Leopard"; it's not the most innovative work out there nor does it make attempts towards such a goal; in fact, at first it appears to be crushingly ordinary and even conservative. But, don't let appearances fool you, for "The Leopard" is that special book that is more than it at first appears. Lampedusa is a graceful, exact and imaginative writer who, more than anyone I've read since I first tackled Flaubert himself, almost makes me a believer in "le mot juste." Most impressive is the form of the work, where details are worked to a full, rich detail for a specific time and place, and then, suddenly, with the next chapter, all the action is shifted months, years and miles away from the last. If anyone, Lampedusa's approach to time reminded me of Virginia Woolf's treatment of the same in "To the Lighthouse." Indeed, it seems to me that, with its flash-backs and leaps in time and space, "The Leopard" is a modernist-damaged attempt at writing the prototypical 19th Century novel.

The best success of "The Leopard," however, and what truly sets it apart as a notable novel of the 20th Century, is that it actually succeeds at what all historical fiction attempts (and where most of it falls flat): it almost effortlessly evokes the general sense of a historical era while concentrating on the minutiae. I feel, somehow, that even the most well crafted historical study will never give me as true and complete feeling for the Risorgimento and its impact on the nobility as this tale of Don Fabrizio and his family has. And for that reason alone, "The Leopard" stands a true masterpiece of literature.