Cavalleria Rusticana and Other Stories

by Giovanni Verga, G.H. McWilliam (Introduction)

The stories of Giovanni Verga (1840-1922) are wonderful evocations of ordinary Italian life, focusing in particular on his native Sicily. In an original and dynamic prose style, he portrays such eternal human themes as love, honour and adultery with rich and colourful language. The inspiration for Mascagni's opera, 'Cavalleria Rusticana' depicts a young man's triumphal return home from the army, spoilt when he learns that his beloved is engaged to another man. Verga's acute awareness of the hardships and aspirations of peasant life can be seen in stories such as 'Nedda', 'Picturesque Lives' and 'Black Bread', while others such as 'The Reverend' and 'Don Licciu Papa' show the dominance of the church and the law in the Sicilian communities he portrays so vividly.

Genres: Short Stories, Classics, Italy, Fiction, Italian Literature, 19th Century, Literature

272 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1896

About the author

Giovanni Verga was an Italian realist writer, best known for his depictions of life in Sicily, and especially for the short story Cavalleria Rusticana and the novel I Malavoglia.

The first son of Giovanni Battista Catalano Verga and Caterina Di Mauro, Verga was born into a prosperous family of Catania in Sicily. He began writing in his teens, producing the largely unpublished historical novel Amore e Patria (Love and Country); then, although nominally studying law at the University of Catania, he used money his father had given him to publish his I Carbonari della Montagna (The Carbonari of the Mountain) in 1861 and 1862. This was followed by Sulle Lagune (In the Lagoons) in 1863.

Meanwhile, Verga had been serving in the Catania National Guard (1860-64), after which he travelled to Florence several times, settling there in 1869.
He moved to Milan in 1872, where he developed his new approach, characterized by the use of dialogue to develop character, which resulted in his most significant works. In 1880 his story collection Vita dei Campi (Life in the Fields), (including Fantasticheria, La Lupa, and Pentolacchia) most of which were about rural Sicily, came out; it included the Cavalleria Rusticana, which was adapted for the theatre and later the libretto of the Mascagni opera. Verga's short story, "Malaria", was one of the first literary depictions of the disease.

He then embarked on a projected series of five novels, but only completed two, I Malavoglia and Mastro-Don Gesualdo (1889), the latter of which was the last major work of his literary career. Both are widely recognized as masterpieces.
In 1894 Verga moved back to the house he was born in. In 1920 he was elected a senator. He died of a cerebral thrombosis in 1922.

The Teatro Verga in Catania is named after him.

In the book by Silvia Iannello Le immagini e le parole dei Malavoglia (Sovera, Roma, 2008), the author selects some passages of the Giovanni Verga' novel I Malavoglia, adds original comments and Acitrezza' photographic images, and devotes a chapter to the origins, remarks and frames taken from the immortal movie La terra trema (1948) directed by Luchino Visconti.

Reviews

[Ian · Rating 4 out of 5]

A set of 19 short stories by a Sicilian author who lived between 1840 and 1922. I won’t be able to cover them all in this review, but I’ll try to mention as many as possible.

This Penguin Classics edition has an Introduction (which I recommend you read after the stories themselves) explaining that Verga wrote in a genre called verismo, influenced by the French writers Balzac and Zola. The stories are realist and mostly based around the day to day lives of ordinary people. Some of his characters appear in several stories, notably one character called in this translation “The Reverend”, a hypocritical and venal priest.

Many of the stories might be described as “character sketches”. The collection opens with Nedda, a peasant girl on the bottom rung of the ladder, who suffers a series of calamities. Nedda is fatalistic and accepting of her status, unthinkingly putting herself last in everything and even defending the landlords who exploit her work in the fields. She has been beaten down by the relentless humiliations she suffers. Another of the most memorable sketches is Rosso Malpelo. A note explains that malpelo is literally “evil-haired” because of a local belief that red hair indicated an evil personality. From early childhood, the unfortunate Malpelo is punched and kicked from pillar to post by everyone else in his community. When a man starts courting his older sister, she insists that he must hide, in case her suitor finds out she has a red haired sibling. Even his mother shows him no affection. Unsurprisingly, the view of Malpelo’s character becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

In Jeli the Shepherd, the title character grows up from childhood on his own, looking after herds or flocks of animals. His lifestyle means he does not understand the wider world or other people, something which has consequences as he moves into adulthood. Gramigna’s Mistress features a woman who develops an obsession with a notorious brigand. This story reminded me of that (very small) subgroup of modern day women who write letters proposing marriage to convicted serial killers they have never met. The She-Wolf, about a sexually voracious woman, is said to be one of Verga’s best known stories, though personally I found it one of the less impressive.

Cavalleria Rusticana is probably the best known of all, since it indirectly led to the well-known opera of the same name. Apparently Verga adapted the story into a one-act play, and that was adapted again into the opera. For me it wasn’t one of the best stories though. How, When and Why is one of two that are set in Milan. This one is set amongst high society people and seems out of place in the collection. I also found it a bit melodramatic. By contrast, Springtime, the other Milanese story, is an extremely touching tale about lovers forced apart by poverty and circumstance.

19th century Sicily is portrayed as a place of casual violence. Employers routinely beat their employees, and men beat their wives (though sometimes the latter fight back). Freedom is a disturbing tale, based on real events that occurred when Garibaldi’s forces arrived on the island. In one community the peasants rose up and massacred the middle and upper classes (including children) in an orgy of mob violence. The story is strong in illustrating how individuality disappears within the hive mind of the mob. The story entitled Malaria is a disturbing in a different way. In the 19th century southern Italy was the only part of Europe affected by the highly virulent falciparum form of that disease, and Verga’s story illustrates the terrifying, heartbreaking toll that it took.

There are a couple of stories within a lighter touch. War of the Saints features the inhabitants of different quarters of the same town knocking ten bells out of one another over the merits of their patron saints, and had me laughing throughout. Getting to know the King features a litter-driver who has to carry the Queen of Naples during a royal visit, and who is terrified the King is going to cut his head off if anything goes wrong.

GR Friends have sometimes commented that social realist novels are to my taste, and I would agree with that assessment. I would rate a number of these stories as five stars. They will all be in the public domain by now so I daresay some might be found online for free. Take your pick!

[The Lost Dreamer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unexpectedly shocking. I chose this brief compilation of short stories by Giovanni Verga, considered one of Sicily's more relevant writers, to prepare a trip to the Mediterranean island. The first stories, especially the well-known 'Cavalleria rusticana', caused me a deep rejection, obviously a consequence of my low tolerance to misogyny, no matter when or where it comes from. But as the topics shifted to rural jobs, people, and the complexities of the Sicilian society in the late 19th century, the tales became absorbing and hypnotic. They even shed new light upon the first stories, turning what I had interpreted as misogyny into bitter sarcasm and bold portraiting of unique female characters.
A couple of stories have left me particularly shocked and will probably lead to new dives into Verga's literature in the close future. His brutal and asphyxiating narration makes you think, at some points, of Capote's cold hyperrealism, although the distance between the two authors is vast, and Verga's way of telling stories is far from 20th-century journalism. But it catches you with no mercy. And he does so without even making one of his characters friendly or even relatable. Verga won't allow you to establish any empathic connection with any of his characters like he only wanted his stories to move fueled by their own rhythm and narration.
The compilation gets read very quickly and easily, making me only wish I could have read it in the language it was originally written (I read a Spanish translation). It leaves a deep feeling of distress, that lingers around and presses one's chest like summer dust. But it's a thrilling experience.

--

Inesperadamente impactante. Escogí esta breve recopilación de relatos de Giovanni Verga para preparar un viaje a Sicilia con el que es considerado uno de los grandes autores de la isla. Los primeros tres relatos de la colección me causaron hondo rechazo, sin duda consecuencia de la baja tolerancia hacia la misoginia, proceda de la época que proceda, que tengo en la actualidad. Pero en cuanto la temática de las historias empezó a girar en torno a los oficios del campo, sus gentes y el tejido social siciliano del siglo XIX, las narraciones se volvieron absorbentes e hipnóticas. Incluso arrojaron una luz totalmente distinta, claramente sarcástica y amarga, sobre los primeros cuentos de la colección.
Un par de relatos me han dejado profundamente marcada y es posible que profundice más en la obra de Verga en un futuro cercano. Su narración descarnada y asfixiante, que por momentos te hace pensar en el frío hiperrealismo de Capote, sin tener estilísticamente apenas nada que ver con las narraciones periodísticas; atrapa sin piedad. Y lo consigue sin presentar un solo personaje amable o con el que el lector vaya a establecer una conexión empática, sino a fuerza pura de narración y de ritmo.
La recopilación se lee rápido y con poca dificultad, solamente dejando lugar a lamentarse por no tener capacidad para leerla en su lengua original. Deja un poso de angustia que se cuela por todas partes y le oprime el pecho a una, como el polvo que se levanta en el campo en verano.

[Carlos Cano · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mi primera incursión con el verismo de Verga, que me ha parecido un naturalismo soso, salvo en los dos mejores relatos de esta antología, durísimos y emocionantes: "Malpelo, el pelirrojo" (muy zolanesco) e "Historia del asno San José".

[Paul Jellinek · Rating 5 out of 5]

OK, so not every story is a gem, but there are enough gems in this collection of Giovanni Verga short stories to easily score five stars. Verga has a voice all his own, which I first encountered years ago in his amazing novel "Under the Medlar Tree," about life in a small Sicilian village around the turn of the (last) century. The best stories in this volume take place in that same corner of the world, and he tells them simply and beautifully, despite the fact that the stories themselves are often harsh, even brutal. Probably not everybody's cup of tea, but I love this stuff.

[Matthew · Rating 3 out of 5]

Giovanni Verga is the writer much praised by D H Lawrence, which you might consider to be a recommendation or a deterrent, depending on your view of Lawrence. He was a member of a wealthy Sicilian family, and yet mostly writes (in this collection) about the poor country folk around him.

The stories are varied, but recurring themes include adultery, poverty and murder. Verga writes with a degree of sensitivity about the poor people of his region. None of the characters are entirely unsympathetic, not even the almost feral Rosso Malpelo, a young boy who is savage but more of a force of nature than a malicious brute.

The characters are at the mercy of forces beyond their control. They live in dire poverty. Malaria and cholera threaten their lives and livelihoods. There is no succour to be gained from government and church, who do not appear in the stories as supporting agents. Possibly god may be kind, but god seems absent. Employers are harsh, and self-employment (people who own the land) often ends in bankruptcy.

Verga’s compassion only extends so far. Most of the stories end on a pessimistic note. While Verga cares about his characters, he appears to have a low opinion of them too. The rustics are as much in danger from their own shortcomings as they are from external agencies.

They are like children, driven by passions beyond their control. They lust after married partners. They fall in love with absurdly unsuitable people. They become angry and get into fights, or kill other people.

In the ironically-titled ‘Freedom’, the locals are moved to revolt against their conditions, but Verga does not see this as a gesture of solidarity or a welcome workers’ movement. Rather they are rabble driven by rage into acting against their own interests, and committing cruel and savage acts of murder against innocent women and children until they are arrested and punished.

The stories here are readable and there is plenty of colourful description. Perhaps what is lacking is any kind of spark or excitement. Thrilling things happen in theory, but there is something so downbeat about them that even they fail to set the stories alight, and many just peter off.

Admittedly Verga says that he is not writing stories with an intended message. In ‘Gramigna’s Mistress’, Verga dedicates the first five paragraphs to explaining his manifesto that the author should be absent from his own works. This is stated without irony.

Do stories need to have a message? Certainly not. Nonetheless a focus helps. Otherwise it is merely the life-history of a character or a sequence of meaningless events. Sometimes in spite of himself, Verga points out the moral. In ‘Property’, the final lines indicate the futility of acquisitiveness when the dying owner kills his ducks and turkeys to stop anyone else owning them after his death.

I would have liked to see more stories of that kind. An abdication of viewpoint is not always a bad thing, but it leaves the stories without a moral centre, and the final result is a passive neutrality.

[Ray LaManna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Verga was one of the greatest short story writers Europe ever produced. He ushered in the style of verismo writing depicting the lives of ordinary...AND he wrote primarily about Sicily my ancestral homeland. In many of these stories, I could envision my own grandfather, who was raised there, working in the same fields.

[Richard · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 rounded up

[Tim Martin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very readable and relatively short (232 pages not counting maps and end notes) collection of a number of works of Italian author Giovanni Verga (1840-1922). This collection of short stories is proceeded by an introduction by G. H. McWilliam, an expert on Italian literature as well as the translator, who discusses Verga’s career and accomplishments, how Verga became known especially to the English speaking world (thanks in large part to the efforts of D.H. Lawrence, an admirer of Verga), and discusses especially the verismo or realist style in the stories as well as discussing elements of particular stories, McWilliam writing that writers of verismo concerned themselves with “the presentation of the day-to-day affairs of ordinary people” and with two exceptions in the collection, these stories deal with the trials and tribulations of regular people mostly in Sicily (Verga was born in Sicily). With two exceptions (“Springtime” and “How, When and Why”, both of which deal with Milanese high society), these stories reveal “with amazing clarity and understanding the conditions under which the Sicilian peasants attempted to grind out a living for themselves and their families.” McWilliam also noted that most of the stories, which are often end poorly for the main character, show people who are “the victims of life itself,” often ground down by poverty, debt, the caprices of local lords, injustice, malaria, malnutrition, and the brutal summers of Sicily, but often have no actual villain.

There are nineteen stories in the collection, some rather brief at just few pages, almost vignettes or character sketches, while others are lengthy tales, almost novellas. I will talk about a few. We get the opening story “Nedda”, which is a heartbreaking tale of a very sympathetic Sicilian peasant girl dealing with poverty, malnutrition, and being a social outcast. Every bit as depressing as the most depressing Russian literature I have read. Centering on a less destitute but in the end as much a “victim of life itself” is the tale “Jeli the Shepherd” which is one of several tales that becomes surprisingly violent with really almost no warning, the story centering less on grinding poverty as in “Nedda” but on being trapped by traditions of honor. “Rosso Malpelo” was a well-written tale with great foreshadowing but also kind of disturbing and would almost be labeled weird fiction if it were more recent, about a really strange red-haired man pretty much viewed as cursed and despicable, eking out of living in the dangerous sand mines near Mount Etna. Despised by all around him, he loses a lot of sympathy points for passing on his trauma and abuse to a person lower down even then him, an unfortunate coworker nicknamed The Frog for his deformities, one of those tales that shows rather than says that just because you were traumatized and abused doesn’t excuse you from passing on the same to those even less fortunate. “Gramigna’s Mistress” is a story about a woman named Peppa, a woman who was on her way to a happy and maybe cushy life as a married woman but who throws it all away to go live in the Sicilian scrub and be a follower of a famous wanted man, a dangerous brigand named Gramigna. “War of the Saints” was a more humorous and light-hearted tale about two rival factions each devoted to a particular saint, spirited followers of San Rocco versus fanatic followers of San Pasquale. “Wolf-hunt”, the final story in the collection, had a very modern feel, not just from the writing (“…Lollo turned up unexpectedly at his house, like a piece of bad news”) but for being a story that isn’t what it first appears to be (a man hunting a wolf, or is he?).

Several of the stories had very evocative descriptions of the pitiless Sicilian countryside. “Malaria” talked about being “along lanes devoured by the sun” and meeting a herdsman “yellow from fever and white with dust.” “Jeli the Shepherd,” though mentioning those “fine April days when the wind swept in waves across the lush green grass” also practically in the next sentence mentioned the summer when “the countryside, bleached and overhung with leaden skies, lay silent except for the crackling sound of crickets on the farmland, as though the stubble had been set on fire.” “Rosso Malpelo” had some vivid descriptions of the sciara (which the translator noted was the term for the hardened lava scree on the slopes of Mount Etna), saying it was “deserted and melancholy, black and wrinkled,” the main character hating how it appeared “even more barren and desolate” on moonlit nights. In “Gramigna’s Mistress” the brigand faced “starving, dying of thirst in the boundless plains, that were burnt dry beneath the rays of the midsummer sun.”

Poverty is often described vividly, from actual malnutrition and starvation in “Nedda” to in
“Bigwigs” how one character’s wife was “forever pregnant” (the poor having a ton of kids they struggled to feed was a common theme in many stories) to “Black Bread” when thanks to the hard, hard life of the main characters, the husband remarks to his wife who “was twenty-seven now” that “We’re growing old” and how he no longer turned to admire her physical beauty but rather essentially saw her as “a she-mule.”

Though it mostly the poor who suffered, the rich who suffered in Sicily as well, such as when “Mongibello spat out fire” (Mount Etna erupted) in “Bigwigs” “the bigwigs who owned the land would have been better off buried under the lava.”

Most of the stories were surprisingly accessible. Quite a few were depressing, maybe most really. Some of the characters were very distinct and unusual individuals, such as the weird miser of sorts in “Property” (also, another example of a common thread in the stories, a traumatized person passing on trauma to others). Though a few stories made Sicily sound beautiful in plentiful times, most made it sound like a very hard place to live if you are poor, especially in summer. Good sense of place in a number of stories as well as showing rural Sicilian culture.

[Dale Boyer · Rating 5 out of 5]

An Overlooked Master

I picked up this book because of a trip to Sicily, and as I read, I continued to be astounded at how good Verga was, and at the fact that he isn't better known (in the US, at least). I'd never heard of Verga, but his best work is right up there with Chekhov and Henry James. "The She Wolf" is shocking (there's really no other word for it); "Jeli, The Shepherd" unfolds almost biblically, and with a great deal of pathos; "Rosso Malpelo" is an enviably good character study (really trenchant psychologically); "Gramigna's Mistress"; "How, When, Why" (though I must profess I don't really understand this title at all); and "The Reverend" are all first rate. And the astounding first sentence of "Getting to Know the King" is so good at setting place, time and character, it should be used to teach writing classes. I heartily recommend this book to anyone interested not only in Sicily, but also in great literature. It's an amazing little discovery.

[Steven · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fun book with a lot of nice writing. Kind of repetitive stories though (all of them center on a wife's infidelity....) Notable for focus on uneducated people and having narration very close to the voice these people would use (speaking with village chorus, as James Wood would say). While sticking close to "peasant" language, he also has some poetic phrases, like some of the following I like:

"dried up grass, fuming silently in the distant heat-haze."

"they spent the very eyes out of their heads to do the thing on a grand scale."

"in this world justice is bought and sold like the soul of Judas."

"blows that would have felled an ox."

"The woman's eyes were dazed, avid, moist with dreams."

"He cried like men do when they've never cried before, with tears that burn a track in your soul."

[Cazzaman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Received as a gift in the belief this would be about the Sicilian countryside. These short stories are quite strong in sketching human character, in loose plot, telling stories of human relationships amongst the poor peasantry with their wealthy masters. The stories’ brevity sometimes leaves them incomplete, with occasionally baffling contradictory sentences. But the bigger picture is the timelessness of human nature set in a remote region. I can see why DH Lawrence was attracted to these often misogynistic dark tales of love and poverty, sharing something of his “ashes in the mouth” view of life.

[Ravi Singh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Shorts stories of life for the rural poor in Sicily, Italy. Very earnest and heartfelt people doing their very best to survive. They could have summarised the lives of many poor people around the world in rural areas in these stories, its seems so universal. The passions and motivations that spur people's lives on, really is caught in this very localised style of writing.

Good stories and recommended.

[J Bradbury · Rating 4 out of 5]

Short stories about life for the rural poor in Sicily in the 1800s & interesting description of peasant life but all the stories have depressing endings!

[Elisabeth Glas · Rating 4 out of 5]

As intense as promised. The colors, the emotions, the poverty. Many strong women!

[Gràcia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nouvelle de Verga. D’ací l’òpera de Pietro Mascagni.

[Samuel Whelpley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unos cuentos muy logrados de este escritor Italiano. No le doy 5, porque el verismo del autor ha envejecido.

[Recensioni in tre parole · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quotidiana. Popolare. Intensa.

[David Sogge · Rating 5 out of 5]

Most of these stories mirror lives of people in ways that draw you, the reader, into a kind of complicity in a spiteful, unforgiving semi-feudal society that demeans and abuses them. Like their mules other animals, these men and women live parlous lives, sometimes dying violently. Yet some characters, even on their deathbeds, remain deferential to their landlords. Some stories pivot on love rivalries and revenge, others on ruthless self-enrichment through abuse of power, debt traps and dispossession. Absurdity and humour pop up briefly in a few stories, but only one of them, ‘Getting to know the King’, is comic from beginning to end -- despite its unhappy theme of poor folk who are in awe of their betters, yet get shafted in the name of king and country.

Some of these stories are on a par, I think, with those of Chekhov.

Which makes it all the more surprising to find in this collection a trashy tale in the romantic genre, entitled ‘How, When and Why”, about posh people in the beau monde of Milan. Their intimacies are described in ways like this: “Maria trembled from head to toe…while Polidori whispered impassioned words into her ear, that caused the curls of her hair to quiver above the back of her lily-while neck.” Such steamy prose may have set readers’ pulses racing in the 1880s, and helped Verga pay his bills, but just doesn't measure up to his masterful, spare and unsentimental portrayals of life, love and death in the countryside.

Adding to the value of this volume are an instructive introduction by the translator, a bibliography of critical studies, notes on Sicilian titles and monies of the late 19th century, and a map of the region of Sicily in which most stories are set.

[Stefanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

These masterfully crafted stories read like an authentic slice of Sicilian life.

[Alyssa Tallama · Rating 3 out of 5]

"War Between Saints" - 5 stars
"Cavalleria Rusticana" - 3 stars
"The She-Wolf" - 2.5 stars
"Gramigna's Mistress" - 2.5 stars

[Joanna Cielecka · Rating 1 out of 5]

Boring.