Baldassare Castiglione - The Book of The Courtier

In 1528, the year before his death, the book for which Castiglione is most famous, The Book of the Courtier (Il Libro del Cortegiano), was published in Venice by the Aldine Press run by the heirs of Aldus Manutius. The book, in dialog form, is an elegiac portrait of the exemplary court of Guidobaldo da Montefeltro of Urbino during Castiglione's youthful stay there at the beginning of the sixteenth century. It depicts an elegant philosophical conversation, presided over by Elisabetta Gonzaga, (whose husband, Guidobaldo, an invalid, was confined to bed) and her sister-in-law Emilia Pia. Castiglione himself does not contribute to the discussion, which is imagined as having occurred while he was away. The book is Castiglione's memorial tribute to life at Urbino and to his friendships with the other members of the court, all of whom went on to have important positions and many of whom had died by the time the book was published, giving poignancy to their portrayals.

The conversation takes place over a span of four days in the year 1507. It addresses the topic, proposed by Federigo Fregoso, of what constitutes an ideal Renaissance gentleman. In the Middle Ages, the perfect gentleman had been a chivalrous knight who distinguished himself by his prowess on the battlefield. Castiglione's book changed that. Now the perfect gentleman had to have a classical education in Greek and Latin letters, as well. The Ciceronian humanist model of the ideal orator (whom Cicero called "the honest man"), on which The Courtier is based, prescribes for the orator an active political life of service to country, whether in war or peace. Scholars agree that Castiglione drew heavily from Cicero's celebrated treatise De Officiis ("The Duties of a Gentleman"), well known throughout the Middle Ages and even more so from his De Oratore, which had been re-discovered in 1421 and which discusses the formation of an ideal orator-citizen. Jennifer Richards points out that the question put forth by De Oratore, namely, can rhetoric be taught or is it an inborn gift, parallels that of The Courtier. The genre is also the same in The Courtier and De Oratore: a comfortable, informal, open-ended discussion, in Ciceronian rhetoric called sermo (conversation), in which participants, set out the various sides of an argument in a friendly (rather than adversarial) way, inviting readers, as silent participators, to decide the truth for themselves.

Since republics were dying out in Italy when Castiglione wrote, in order to participate in an active life of public service, as recommended by Cicero, the model Renaissance gentleman had to win the respect and friendship of his peers and of a ruler, or prince, i.e., he had to be a courtier, so as to be able to offer valuable assistance and advice on how to rule the city. To do this, he must be a worthy friend, accomplished—in sports, in telling jokes, in fighting, writing poetry, playing music, drawing, and dancing—but not too much. To his moral elegance (his personal goodness) must be added the spiritual elegance conferred by familiarity with good literature (i.e., the humanities, including history). Furthermore, he must excel in all he does without apparent effort and make everything look easy and natural. In a famous passage, Castiglione's friend Lodovico da Canossa, whose views arguably represent Castiglione's own, explains "the mysterious source of courtly gracefulness, the quality which makes the courtier seem a natural nobleman": sprezzatura. Sprezzatura, or the art that conceals art (in the words of another ancient rhetorician, Quintillian), is not simply a kind of superficial dissimulation, for grace may also be the result of such assiduous practice that what one does becomes second nature and seems inborn. At the outset of the discussion Canossa also insists that the art of being a perfect courtier is something that cannot be taught (that is, broken down to a set of rules or precepts), and therefore, he declares (rhetorically—and with sprezzatura) that he will refuse to teach it. The implication, however, is that those interested in acquiring this art must do so through practice and imitation, which is—like the dialog itself—a form of teaching—teaching without precepts. To perfect oneself is not selfish, but fulfills a public and private moral duty for the individual to act as a model for others.

The ideal courtier, then, must act with noble sprezzatura, and Canossa maintains that because the ideal courtier must a man of arms, skilled in horsemanship, he needs to be of noble birth. To this, another interlocutor, a very youthful Gaspare Pallavicino, age twenty, objects that many outstanding and virtuous men have been of humble origins. The other participants eventually agree that even someone who is lowly born can be a perfect courtier, since nobility can be learned through imitation of the best models from life and history until it becomes ingrained and natural. This, at least, is the theory; but in practice, they concede, it is easier to become a perfect courtier if one is born into a distinguished family. In any case, the ideal courtier should be able to speak gracefully and appropriately with people of all stations in life. The French are wrong to assert that a knowledge of letters conflicts with fighting ability. The courtier should be deeply versed in Greek and Latin and should know enough to be able to discriminate between good and bad writing (as well as the other arts) for himself, without relying slavishly on the word of others. The participants also deplore what they consider the rude and uncultivated manners of the French, who they say look down with disdain on what they call a "clerk" (or someone who can read and write), though hope is expressed for Francis of Valois, the future king of France. This is a bitter topic, since the French, who had just invaded Italy, had shown themselves clearly superior in fighting to the Italians. It is noticeable, however, that though skill in fighting in insisted on at the outset as a requisite for the Italian courtier, it is scarcely alluded to in the rest of the book. Pietro Bembo, who was a poet and arbiter of elegance in the Italian language, in fact, even questions whether it is necessary.

Ideally, the courtier should be young, about twenty-seven, at least mentally, though he should give the appearance of being graver and more thoughtful than his years. To do this he should wear subdued rather than bright colors, though in general attire he should follow the prevalent customs of his surroundings. The courtier should always appear a little more humble than his station requires. He should take care not appear scornful of the efforts of others and should avoid the arrogance shown by some French and some Spanish noblemen.

The discussion also touches on a variety of other questions, such as which form of government is best, a republic or a principality—the Genoese Fregoso brothers taking the republican side. There is a long discussion, too, about what are appropriate topics for joking (pleasantries), an essential component of pleasing conversation: one should not mock people's physical attributes, for example.

Music is brought up, and Ludovico Canossa declares that the courtier should be able to read music and play several instruments. When Gaspare Pallavicino objects that music is effeminate, Canossa answers that there is no better way to soothe the soul and raise the spirits than through music, and he names great generals and heroes of antiquity who were keen musicians. Grave Socrates himself began to learn the cithern when an old man. Indeed, the wisest ancient philosophers taught that the heavens themselves are composed of music and there is a harmony of the spheres. Music likewise promotes habits of harmony and virtue in the individual and should therefore be learned beginning in childhood. Giuliano de' Medici agrees that for the courtier music is not just an ornament but a necessity, as it is indeed for men and women in all walks of life. The ideal courtier, however, should not give the impression that music is his main occupation in life.

They then discuss which is superior, painting or sculpture? The answer is left open but seems to lean in favor of painting, for, as Canossa maintains:

Anyone who does not esteem the art of painting seems to me to be quite wrong-headed. For when all is said and done, the very fabric of the universe, which we can contemplate in the vast spaces of heaven, so resplendent with their shooting stars, with the earth at its center, girdled by the seas, varied with mountains, rivers and valleys, and adorned with so many different varieties of trees, lovely flowers and grasses, can be said to be a great and noble painting, composed by Nature and the hand of God. And, in my opinion, whoever can imitate it deserves the highest praise.

Another topic, that of the Court Lady, brings up the question of the equality of the sexes. One character, the young Gaspare Pallavicino, has been depicted throughout the discussion as a thorough-going misogynist (at one point he even declares that women are only good for having children). Elisabetta Gonzaga and Emilia Pia regard his attitude as a challenge and call on the others to come to women's defense. The following evening Giuliano de' Medici, who is more mature than Gaspare Pallavicino, is chosen to defend women. He rises to the occasion, affirming their equality to the male sex in every respect, and he points out how throughout history some women have excelled in philosophy and others have waged war and governed cities, listing the heroines of classical times by name. Pallavicino, piqued, hints that Giuliano is wrong, but in the end concedes that he himself has been wrong to disparage women. The reader is led to conclude that Pallavicino's bitterness toward the female sex may be the result of a sincere young man's deep disappointment in love, and this throws into question somewhat the sincerity of the smooth and affable Giuliano, the defender (or flatterer) of women (who as it happens, in real life was a well known philanderer). There is some doubt as to whether Pallavicino or Giuliano, or both, express Castiglione's real views on the subject of women. Interestingly, Giuliano de' Medici was also the person to whom Machiavelli had first planned to address his book The Prince, though he ended up instead dedicating it to Giuliano's brother Lorenzo. Giuliano was later given the title of Duc de Nemours by Francis I. (He died soon after, in 1517, and was memorialized in a celebrated statue by Michelangelo.) Gaspare Pallavicino, the most impetuous and emotional of the interlocutors in The Courtier, had died in 1511, after a life of almost constant illness, while still in his early twenties. The book ends on an elevated note with lengthy speech about love by the humanist scholar Pietro Bembo (later a Cardinal). Bembo was born in 1470 and in 1507, when the dialog is supposed to have taken place, would have been in his mid-thirties. Young men's love naturally tends to be sensual, but Bembo talks about a kind of imaginative, non-physical love that is available to young and old alike. Bembo's speech is based on Marsilio Ficino's influential commentaries on Socrates's speech on the nature of love at the conclusion of Plato's Symposium, except that in The Courtier the object of love is heterosexual not homosexual. Bembo describes how the experience of sublimated love leads the lover to the contemplation of ideal beauty and ideas. He talks about the divine nature and origin of love, the "father of true pleasures, of all blessings, of peace, of gentleness, and of good will: the enemy of rough savagery and vileness", which ultimately lifts the lover to the contemplation of the spiritual realm, leading to God. When Bembo has finished, the others notice that they have all become so enraptured by his speech that they have lost track of the time, and they rise to their feet, astonished to discover that day is already dawning:

So when the windows on the side of the palace that faces the lofty peak of Mount Catria had been opened, they saw that the dawn had already come to the east, with the beauty and color of a rose, and all the stars had been scattered, save only the lovely mistress of heaven, Venus, who guards the confines of night and day. From there, there seemed to come a delicate breeze, filling the air with biting cold, and among the murmuring woods on neighboring hills wakening the birds into joyous song. Then all, having taken leave of the Duchess, went to their rooms, without torches, for the light of day was sufficient.