Ariosto’s Pathway to Posterity

Ludovico Ariosto faced a cultural landscape peppered with explosive issues, yet he managed to pursue a path to posterity. In the mid-nineteenth century, statesman Vincenzo Gioberti extolled Ariosto’s praises, declaring him divine, the prince of heroic poetry second only to Dante.¹ How Ariosto attained his status as the best-known poet of the Italian Renaissance has been explored by Daniel Javitch, who traced how the Orlando Furioso became legitimized throughout the sixteenth century. Here, I would like to explore aspects of Ariosto’s writings, which would seem to create impediments to his glory but do not. The focus will be on matters of religion, and language as it relates to the burlesque code so popular in its day; I will cite other writers of the era, Pietro Bembo, Teofilo and Giovanni Battista Folengo, to provide context for the positions taken by Ariosto.

Religious matters

One could say that in the fictional realm of the Orlando Furioso, Ariosto took a traditional stance on religion: he set his epic in the time of Charlemagne when Moors had invaded France and throughout the work Christian knights battle pagan knights. The author insists that Christian knights should try to win back the Holy Lands, which are in the hands of dogs (OF 17.73.8; OF 15.99.7–8). These Christian knights should not be fighting other Christians in Europe which is already Christ’s domain. Exhortations to Christian warriors reach a crescendo in Canto 17, where the authorial voice asks succinctly:

Se Cristianissimi esser voi volete,e voi altri Catolici nomati,perché di Cristo gli uomini uccidete?Perché dei beni loro son dispogliati?Perché Ierusalem non riavete,che tolto è stato a voi da’ rinegati?Perché Costantinopoli e del mondola miglior parte occupa il Turco immondo?

(OF 17.75)

The authorial voice may be intended to be humorous: when the pagan Dardinel seeks to avenge his bosom friend he prays to Mohammed, and the narrator comments, “s’udir lo puote,” (OF 18.55.2). This deafness on the part of Mohammed is alluded to again during the battle of Biserta. The Christians troops, led by Astolfo and Orlando, first warn the inhabitants that their city will be besieged in three days, then begin a pre-battle fast. Meanwhile the Muslim priests of Biserta join their flock in prayers asking for deliverance; they beat their breasts and weep copiously, and call out to their Mohammed who hears nothing: “chiamano il lor Macon che nulla sente” (OF 40.13.1–4). However, in the midst of the stupendous description of the assault on Biserta, Ariosto tempers the smugness of his Christian audience: first, he compares the onrush of Christians through the breached walls of the North African city to the haughty river Po flooding Mantuan plains and taking with it fields and huts, shepherds and dogs (OF 40.31). So, in this comparison, the invading Christian soldiers are portrayed as neither better nor worse than a river running riot. Next, in describing the devastation caused there by the Christians the poet uses words for criminal activities: “Omicidio, rapina e man violente / nel sangue e ne l’aver” (OF 40.32.5–6). Christian soldiers burn palaces and porticoes and mosques. They steal silver taken from the ancient pagan gods. What is worse, they rape [Muslim] children and mothers. Both Orlando and Astolfo know about these rapes (stupri) but cannot prevent them (OF 40.32–4).²

The authorial voice of Ariosto shines a light on serious crimes committed by Christian soldiers, and is also heard lightly mocking basic Christian beliefs. For example, there is an amused scoffing at the traditional image of hell when Astolfo chases off harpies who enter a grotto, and hears cries and yells there and thus recognizes the place as hell: “da pianti e d’urli e da lamento eterno: / segno evidente quivi esser lo ’nferno” (OF 34.4.4–8). Contrast this with the fate of Lydia, who, in an extended parody of a Dantesque encounter, tells how she has been condemned to infernal smoke by the loftiest judgment of God for...