Reader's file: the fascist archives - Italian publisher's reader's reports on foreign books from fascist period

Literary Review, Spring, 2002 by Minna Proctor

This novel is over six hundred pages, but it never gives the slightest hint of being gratuitously long. For translation, one would need perhaps to cut some descriptive passages here and there that are too realistic--maybe fifteen or so total.

unsigned report

Schiavo d'amore, translated by A. Salvatore, was published in 1940 in Mondadori's "Omnibus" series.

WILLIAM SOMERSET MAUGHAM The Summing Up (W. Heinemann, London, Toronto, 1038, 317 pp)

In terms of genre, this counts as literary autobiography done in the style of [Giambattista] Vico or [John] Stuart Mill, to cite some examples. This is Maugham's narrative of his own literary experiences, not his life. It's an accounting of his literary education with occasional sweeping or directed, critical digressions (which are too summary for Italian readers--not exhaustive enough to follow) through the field of English literature. And along with this comes an accounting of the richest human interest, life in general, the true ideals of a man, his convictions and how he came by them. This is finally a work of ideas, a meditation. And yet no matter how worthy and laudable a work it is, it can not be said to be of great importance in the field of ideas. It has the intellectual heft that all of Maugham's novels have, without the artistic advantage of being a novel. It is unlikely that the regular Maugham audience would find it of interest, and it's even more unlikely to draw a whole new audience of scholars and educated people. It begs a reader who is both extremely well-versed in literature, and who knows and loves all of Maugham's novels. Does such a reader exist in Italy? Does such a reader exist at all? I'll advise against the translation of this book.

--ELIO VITTORINI

FRANCOIS MAURIAC Les anges noirs, roman (B. Grasset, Paris, 1936) (The Dark Angels, trns Gerard Hopkins & That Which Was Lost, trns J. H. F. McEwen, Eyre & Spottiswoode, London, 1951)

Francois Mauriac is today's most celebrated Catholic writer--an honor bestowed and then confirmed by the success of his last book The Life of Jesus, which was translated by A. S. Novaro of the Italian Academy for the Medusa imprint. Mauriac's ongoing theme, almost his obsession, is the rendering of sin. His art is harsh, severe, even distancing for the common reader. He depicts lost souls and drags us down into the darkest abysses of the human spirit--then through some perfect narrative parallel shows us a flash of grace which forces us to contend with the misery of the character who has never known such grace--or the character who once had grace and lost it. Dark Angels is among this great writer's most powerful and significant work. It combines two novels: the first, Ce qui Etait Perdue, was published several years ago. The second is Mauriac's most recent work, Le anges noir, which lends its title to this volume. The two books share several main characters.

Mauriac's art has never perhaps been as terrible and severe as it is in these pages. The "sinners" are drawn in such a potent, unforgiving manner--the way faith, fortitude, and torment all come together in the character of Brother Forcas. Nothing, absolutely nothing is conceded to the easy whims of the average reader. There are no "enticements" to be found in these pages, not even subconciously through the characters of the sinners and torturers. It makes perfect sense that despite being a celebrated novelist, Mauriac is not a popular novelist. His books are difficult and resist equivocation. These are books for a self-selecting and relatively small audience, like that of the Medusa imprint. When it comes to criticism, Mauriac's novels will slip through the filter of both literary and ethical criticism (which is all Catholic in France) and come out the other end with nary a scratch.