Florence and Beyond: Culture, Society and Politics in Renaissance Italy. Essays in Honour of John M. Najemy ed. by David S. Peterson, Daniel E. Bornstein (review)

REVIEWS 286 point to a possible raid on a large ransom delivery for the captured French king. Giannino, despite having spent a considerable sum to outfit himself with three different suits of armor (one made of turtle shells) was unable to attend. The battle’s outcome was hardly desirable: the routiers had taken Pont-Saint-Esprit, which possessed one of the four bridges that crossed the Rhône, thus making it profoundly important both for military and trade reasons. Pope Innocent VI declared a crusade to recapture the bridge and the town, but response was lukewarm, and once the commander was taken in by a trick and killed, the Pope bribed the rest of the mercenaries to leave. The effect on Giannino was cataclysmic . He was imprisoned first in Provence, then, in Marseille at the Pope’s behest, kept in irons for over four months, tortured, and accused (for want of a clearer crime) of counterfeiting and heresy. After a transfer to Naples in 1362, where he was better treated, Giannino began to write his memoirs. Nothing is known of his death. That’s the story, anyway. As Falconieri clearly states, we have little to go on in terms of sources about the little king: the primary resource is a manuscript mostly likely (in Falconieri’s view) derived from Giannino’s lost memoirs and compiled by a close relative. He makes a compelling case: the final line of the Istoria del re Giannino di Francia ends with Giannino’s imprisonment and the line, “And I am chained here inside,” which is certainly not the usual way to end a late medieval history. But nothing is that easy, especially not in a tale that seems pulled straight from contemporary romances and oral folktales. Giannino himself, befitting his mercantile roots, placed great faith in the written word, and forged documents to help him establish his credibility. It seems a contradiction , but it is nearly impossible to disagree with Falconieri’s portrayal of the hapless would-be king as something of a wily Forrest Gump, mixing innocence and skill with astonishing acumen. The admixture of truth and lies, of documents that must be read as fakes but trusted to impart something real, of a forger who must make truth out of whole parchment, provides a unique glimpse onto the creation of bureaucratic, royal, and civic identity as constructed through seals (and who owns them), documents (and who writes them and why), and receipts (for goods purchased and monies given). The innumerable characters and personages addressed in the text all seem to traffic in lies, halftruths , and deceptions, but what emerges is a vivid portrait of the complex interplay of power relations across Europe. It is difficult to strain the fact from the fiction in terms of the specifics, particularly as far as Giannino’s own convictions are concerned, but The Man Who Believed He Was King of France traces a telling and evocative paper trail across class lines, national boundaries, and shifting allegiances, and makes from it all, a thrilling read. KATHERINE MCLOONE, Comparative Literature, UCLA Florence and Beyond: Culture, Society and Politics in Renaissance Italy. Essays in Honour of John M. Najemy, ed. David S. Peterson with Daniel E. Bornstein (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies 2008) 518 pp., ill. Peterson and Bornstein’s collection of essays in honor of John Najemy offers an interesting mix of articles focused on Renaissance Florence and its environs. REVIEWS 287 The work begins with an introduction that includes an affectionate overview of Najemy’s career and contributions to the study of Florentine and Renaissance history over the last thirty years, and then goes on to describe the collected texts which aim to pay homage to Najemy through their adherence to the close reading of primary source texts. Though these essays cover a range of interesting topics associated with Renaissance Florence, they do so with such specificity that their utility to a reader generally interested in understanding the period is doubtful. With few exceptions, the articles contained in this collection are less interesting for their content (many of the subjects are extremely narrow) but are useful as guides for how primary sources can, and should...