beamjockey | Something Signor Boccaccio Left Behind

Jo Walton has been reading Boccaccio's Decameron and has remarked amusedly on the difficulties a translator had in conveying the idea of "ravioli" to 19th-century English readers.

When I was in Florence last year, I visited Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, the Laurentian Library, because
(a) I wanted to see a great Old World library,
(b) Ada Palmer had written about this one, and
(c) it was among the few institutions open on a Monday.

Giovanni Boccaccio (1313-1375), "author and copyist."
I learned that an exhibit called "Boccaccio: Autore e Copista" was in progress. The literature of fourteenth-century Italy was a whirlwind, as classical texts were revived and new works were written in the vernacular, and Giovanni Boccaccio stood at the center of the excitement. I haven't read his work, but I welcomed the opportunity to learn more about the beginnings of the Renaissance.

Though the lighting in most of the galleries was quite dim, to protect the 13th-century manuscripts, photography was allowed. With a very steady hand and a long exposure, I was able to take some worthwhile pictures.

So Jo, I wanted to show you this: an "autograph," a couple of pages of the Decameron in Boccaccio's own hand. Not a great photo, but the best I could manage. Below are some details in which I've stretched the contrast.

Right-hand page with illustration.

Left-hand page text detail.

The thirsty Decameron gang sends someone to the well for a refill.

In the book, ten people each tell ten stories over the course of ten nights. It stands to reason that they got thirsty now and then. I don't know whether Signor B. drew the pictures himself.