LONDON
England, and London especially, are of great importance in the
"journey" through Tomasi's life. Tomasi went to London
for the first time in 1920; he returned there several times, sometimes
for long periods, staying with his uncle Giulio Tomasi della Torretta,
an Italian ambassador at the court of England.
But the comfortable, privileged and family hospitality of Don
Fabrizio's "heretical town" certainly wasn't the only
aspect luring him to London. Actually, Tomasi had already been
infected by that love and admiration for English culture and civilisation
that would characterise him for the rest of his life and that
would result in 1954 in the lessons in English literature that
the author gave to Francesco Orlando. There was something in that
culture that deeply fascinated him. The British spirit and temperament,
so strong, determined and practical in the pursuit of clear goals,
yet so naturally distinguished with its halftones, its understatements,
its irony, its eccentric practices, its discretion.
To him all this was so immeasurably distant from Italian vainglory
and provincialism, and even opposed to the nature of Sicilian
culture and societies, so permeated, in his opinion, with a basic
irrationality that conjugated a deep feeling of distrust in action,
manifested through idleness and fatalism, with the absurd conviction
that they were "salt of the earth".
Tomasi may have raved his own "redemption" for some
time. The idea of moving to England, of deserting his "too
comfortable existence, in the wealth of Palermo" to become
a bourgeois living on his own, even humble, job must have crossed
his mind. But perhaps it was already too late to take this step:
"when you're twenty it's too late, the crust has already
taken shape", he will make Don Fabrizio say, with a touch
of regret.
But London is still the place where Tomasi tried to start on a
professional career, as a man of letters, of course. His uncle
had provided him with a small room at the embassy with a desk
and a small sofa, providing him also with a typewriter, and probably
with a typist, seeing that Tomasi could not type, nor did he ever
learn to. It was in that room that Tomasi spent long hours during
his stay in London reading and writing essays, among which the
one on Yeats, which he published in 1926 in the magazine "Le
opere e i giorni" (Works and Days).
The rest of Tomasi's days were spent indulging in mundane life
and in solitary explorations of the city following in the footsteps
of his most beloved authors. He often accompanied uncle Pietro
to official ceremonies, to watch the horse racing at Ascot and
to St. James' Park.
In St. James' Street, in the incredible emporiums selling luxury
articles for men, he discovered a shop window displaying a single
book, The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton, "the most English
among Englishmen: the typical Englishman".
At Will's Coffee House he found the table where, towards the middle
of the XVII century, John Dryden, with his unmistakable Baroque
touch, wrote sublime love poems and extravagant tragicomic plays.
In South Kensington he discovered the portrait of Mary Fitton,
the Dark Lady loved by Shakespeare and by his friend the Earl
of South Hampton. He was fascinated by it; just as he was by another
female figure, Maude Gonne, the inspirer of Yeats's poetry. Several
years later, he would write about her in his notes on English
literature: "she remains in my memory as the most beautiful
creature I have ever seen".
And more, he loved wandering through the forest of buildings,
through the intricate maze of the old town, in Dickens's London,
discovering its atmosphere, so magical and real at the same time,
and its multicoloured human types, so tragic as to be comical.
But starting from 1925 Tomasi was no longer alone in experiencing
the emotions of his extremely personal "sentimental tour"
through the English capital. That same year, in fact, he had met
Licy, who would become his wife five years later. The intellectual
understanding between the two young people was deep from the very
start, and it remained so for the rest of their lives even through
the changing fortunes of a particularly complex and difficult
conjugal relationship.
RIGA
With its indefinable geopolitical position and its ancient cultural
heritage, the town of Riga plays an important role in Giuseppe
Tomasi's biography, especially in the sentimental one.
One could say that the prince of Lampedusa's attraction for foreign
things, more directed to the East, found in Riga its alcove, with
implications that involve the depths of his psyche.
It was in fact in the Latvian capital - founded in 1201 and long
contended by Poland, Sweden and Russia - that he married Alessandra
Wolff Stomersee (known as Licy) in an Orthodox church, on 24th
August 1932.
The two of them had met in London, at the Italian embassy, in
1925, and two years later, Giuseppe had gone to visit Stomersee
castle in Latvia.
Although the couple had settled at Palazzo Lampedusa in Palermo,
between 1933 and 1939 Licy divided her life between Stomersee
and Riga, spending in Palermo only occasional short periods. Her
husband on the other hand generally moved to Riga in the summer
periods.
In spite of its neutrality, Latvia was annexed to USSR on 4th
August 1940. But Licy had already left Latvia the previous year,
after the Ribbentrop-Molotov pact had been signed, and had taken
refuge in Rome.
However, even after the German occupation in 1941, Riga remained
a regular destination for Licy, who, besides, did not give up
her frequent visits to Stomersee. It was only in December 1942
that Licy left the Baltic for good, just before the Soviet advance
absorbed it.
ROME
Giuseppe Tomasi's geographical biography repeatedly and fatefully
involves Rome. It was in Rome that he enrolled at the Law Faculty
on 26th April 1915. And it was there that, after four years, he
took his exam in Constitutional Law, the only one in his career,
in July 1919. We see him again in Rome in 1930 with Licy Wolff
Stomersee. And in 1932, again in Rome - while he was staying at
the Hotel Quirinale and she was staying in Via Brenta, with uncle
Pietro, the marquis of Torretta - that the two fiancés
exchanged love letters. But in 1939 the war prevailed over feelings,
and Tomasi was recalled for military service and summoned, on
14th December, to Nettuno. His appointment with fate was still
distant. It was only in 1957 that Tomasi became aware of blood
traces in his expectoration. After being first diagnosed lung
carcinoma by Professor Turchetti in Palermo, Tomasi left for Rome
on 29th May with Licy. He was treated with cobalt radiotherapy
at Villa Angela nursing home. But on 1st July he moved to his
sister in law Olga Wolff Bianchieri's home. He hardly had a month
left to live. On 23rd July he died at dawn. Two days later the
funerals took place in the Basilica del Sacro Cuore di Gesù.
He wasn't even given Don Fabrizio's consolation, that of going
back home to die there, after a useless consultation with professor
Semola in Naples, an omen that he expressed with heart-rending
resignation in his last letter bearing the date Rome 12th July:
"all I long for - he wrote to Gioacchino Lanza- is to be
able to come back home to spend there peacefully, these last months
or weeks, whatever they might be, seeing every now and then my
dear young men if they are willing to".
But who knows if Don Giuseppe, in his last moments of agony, also
saw a young veiled lady, of a mischievous yet chaste loveliness,
that is death, always "yearned for" and searched for,
that opens The Leopard: Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.
TURIN
Turin is apparently a secondary stop in Lampedusa's biographical
itinerary. There are in fact very few important episodes connected
with the Piedmontese regional capital: we know that Tomasi was
in Turin on 5th May 1917 to attend a course for cadet officers,
and that on 26th August he was appointed aspirant reserve second
lieutenant. Turin therefore appears as one of the places more
directly connected with Tomasi's military career: a notoriously
fundamental experience in the Sicilian writer's life; he was also
a careful scholar of strategy and he particularly studied Von
Clausewitz.
However, Turin also left an important mark in Tomasi's literary
works. In particular, all the first part of the short story Lighea
reconstructs, with a light and almost satirical touch, the life
of a young Sicilian journalist, immigrated to Turin, who copes
with superficial love affairs and evenings spent in a spectral
café reading a pile of newspapers, all alike, (as prescribed
by Minculpop) found at the editorial office.
In this prologue we find more than one autobiographical element,
although hidden behind the screen of a cutting irony with a tinge
of misogyny (the draft of the two antagonist "totes"
that join forces against the traitor lover) that prepares the
reader for the denigration of the unreliability of southern people.
If Tomasi's antifascism - exclusively theoretic - is only hinted
at through the implicit criticism of the regime's lack of information,
Turin's somewhat provincial and tiresome air emerges more evidently
through the quick draft of the visitors to the gloomy café,
compared to Hades, where the old Greek scholar, who once loved
a mermaid, passes his days. But it is rather a kindly form of
criticism, which already allows us to guess, although veined with
scepticism, the respect for the righteous Chevalley in The Leopard.
GENOA
For some time Giuseppe Tomasi remained an unfathomable and almost
unknown writer and, as it were, character. His pupil Francesco
Orlando, with his booklet " A Memory of Lampedusa" published
in 1962, had shed a gleam of light on this atypical and solitary
author. Among the inaccuracies that filled the first biographies
of Tomasi, perfunctory and incomplete, we find the news, obviously
false, that he took a degree in law and, according to Felini,
even with excellent marks "with a dissertation that seemed
partly a masterpiece of juridical insight and partly the offspring
of an extravagant mind".
Tomasi, certainly endowed with both insight and extravagance,
did enrol at the Faculty of Law in Rome in 1915, but he only took
one examination. In January 1920 he moved to the University of
Genoa, but never took any exams. Nor did he get better results
later at the University of Palermo. However, his stay in Genoa
was fruitful in other ways.
Between 1926 and 1927 he in fact published in the Genoese magazine
"Le Opere e i Giorni" (Works and Days) three articles
(Paul Morand, W. B. Yeats And The Irish Risorgimento, A Story
On Caesar's Fame) which make up the bulk of his apprenticeship
as an essay writer and critic.
San Pellegrino Terme
In the preface to the 1958 edition of The Leopard Giorgio Bassani
tells of the first time he met Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa.
It was the summer of 1954 and at San Pellegrino Terme Giuseppe
Rovagnani had organised a literary convention during which ten
well-known Italian authors were to introduce ten debutants. Eugenio
Montale was godfather to the poet Lucio Piccolo, by then an over
fifty-year-old baron, but destined to be, in Bassani's words,
"the true revelation of the convention".
An older cousin accompanied Piccolo, "a tall, stout and taciturn
gentleman" whose face, pale and "greyish" already
showed the marks of an incipient illness. This man, who had the
slightly martial air of a "general at rest", "heavily"
leaning on his stick as one who staggers because of an exhausting
sickness, was obviously Giuseppe Tomasi, prince of Lampedusa.
And his cousin's sudden success had obviously aroused in him an
obscure and subtle illness: the desire to write. The more so,
since he himself (and Sciascia immediately guessed so) had written
the letter of presentation that accompanied the volume containing
the nine poems that Piccolo had printed at Sant'Agata.
In San Pellegrino Terme Lampedusa therefore evidently felt his
literary vocation spring, or spring again, in him, to emulate
his cousin's success. But, by then, he only had very few years
left, although he feverishly devoted them to writing.
Palermo
The Tomasi family reached Sicily in 1577 with Mario, a captain
of arms from Capua, following the Viceroy Marcantonio Colonna.
The family's actual settlement in Palermo did not take place until
a century later, when Ferdinando died prematurely in 1672 and
his son Giulio moved to the regional capital.
Already under the latter's successor, Ferdinando II, the Tomasi
acquired great importance in Palermo. Three times town magistrate,
Ferdinando used all the town administration's money to organise
the feast in honour of Santa Rosalia, the patron saint.
We again find a Giuseppe Tomasi and Colonna still magistrate of
Palermo, as well as administrator of Santa Lucia theatre, at the
beginning of the XIX century. His son was that certain Giulio,
fond of astronomical studies, who would partly inspire the character
of Don Fabrizio in The Leopard.
The writer Giuseppe Tomasi was born in Palermo on 23rd December
1896. His birth was immediately saddened by a terrible loss: two
weeks after he was born, his little sister Stefania, who was only
two, died of diphtheria.
A destiny of solitude, which would become a true vocation, thus
awaited Giuseppe. And his forefathers' house, the palace in Via
Lampedusa, was to become his refuge. It is no chance that the
Places of My Infancy are centred on the writer's two dearest dwellings,
the one in Palermo and the summer one in Santa Margherita Belice,
which arouse in him a feeling of love abandon.
Hence, the "places" of Giuseppe's childhood are homes
and not towns. In his "biography in images" of his adoptive
father Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi writes: "after being dismissed
from military service Giuseppe remained away from Palermo as long
as he could". However, after the friction between his wife
and his mother, he didn't consider leaving the town; on the contrary
he wrote to Licy, who had left for the Baltic, asking her to come
back to Palermo.
As a matter of fact, after taking a diploma with a bias for classical
studies at Liceo Garibaldi, Giuseppe travelled a lot, but he would
never be able free himself completely of the double influence
exerted by Palermo and by his mother.
When in Palermo, he led a secluded and almost dark life, though
frequenting a few circles such as the Bellini, with its annexed
film club, which gathered Palermo's aristocracy. His own home
in Via Butera, which he bought in 1947, after the 1943 bombings
had destroyed his native home, was a meeting place, where lessons
and discussions took place, and which acted as an irradiating
force to a significant part of the town's cultural life, thanks
also to the presence of a pioneer psychoanalyst such as Licy was
(suffice it to think of Francesco Corrao and Francesco Orlando).
The Leopard actually took shape on the tables of such cafés
as Caflish and Mazzara, where Giuseppe was a regular visitor.
His life was methodical and frugal, almost claustral. His only
luxury were his books, which he bought at Flaccovio's, the editor
bookshop, who fruitlessly acted as intermediary in the first attempt
to publish The Leopard through Einaudi.
Palermo, like Sicily after all, was to Tomasi the object of an
intense love and, at the same time, of equally strong contempt.
But some pages of Places of My Infancy reveal the exceptionally
azure brilliance of Palermo portrayed as radiant and almost capable
of luminous spells, in strong contrast with the description of
a "grim" town that we find in The Leopard.
Tomasi died in Rome with an unsatisfied wish to see his native
town again; he was buried in Palermo, in the Cappuccini cemetery,
on 28th July 1957, where his wife joined him on 22nd June 1982.
Santa Margherita Belice
The properties in Santa Margherita are linked to a branch of Tomasi's
family on his mother's side; they were the Mastrogiovanni Tascas
who, in the first half of the nineteenth century, had become related
to the Lanza di Trabias obtaining, as explicitly included in the
dowry agreement, the title of earls. Later, by marrying a woman
of the Filangeri di Cutò family, Lucio Mastrogiovanni Tasca
had acquired the feud of the barony of Misilindro, where Santa
Margherita lay.
This place, that both Giuseppe Tomasi and his mother loved dearly,
was therefore the outcome of a careful matrimonial policy, which
had allowed a family of entrepreneurs to enter the exclusive,
but forever needing new capital, world of Sicilian aristocracy.
Among the "country mansions", the one in Santa Margherita
was Giuseppe Tomasi's favourite, ever since he was a child. It
had been first built in 1680, but in 1810 the prince of Cutò
had it totally rebuilt to make it worthy of giving hospitality
to Ferdinando IV, who had fled from Naples, during Murat's reign.
A fundamental part of the attraction that Giuseppe felt for this
distant home as a little boy was due to the adventurous charm
of the journey there, partly by train and partly by carriage,
interminable (over 12 hours) and perhaps even dangerous, if we
consider that three carabinieri on horseback would join the convoy's
escort at Partanna.
The huge house - with its three hundred rooms, three courtyards,
guest quarters, stables, stores, big garden and orchard - was
"a kind of Vatican" in whose desolation one could move
around freely and safely as if in an "enchanted wood",
devoid of dragons, but rich in graceful wonders. Its boundless
extension, "full of jocund snares", was thus the ideal
place for a boy in search of fantasising solitude.
In this magical dwelling, compared to "a sort of eighteenth
century Pompeii", the young Giuseppe experienced the unforgettable
shock of the killing of two robins during a lesson in gun shooting
by a pitiless tenant.
But, among the places of his infancy, Santa Margherita has a central
role above all because it was there that, when he was eight, Tomasi
learnt to read thanks to the brisk lessons given him by Donna
Carmela, a humble but extremely effective farmer teacher, while
his mother taught him to write in French.
Hardly frequented - also because of the family's bad relationship
with the local authorities, the parish priest in particular -
the town is rarely and only indirectly hinted at by Tomasi. Some
pages of his Memoirs are instead dedicated, though briefly, to
the surroundings: the vineyards, the landscape spreading like
"a huge squatting beast", the walk to Montevago and
the one to Misilbesi, in a violent, sunny and "rogue looking"
environment, the Venaria, where the shooting lodge was, the destination
of gastronomic, not to say Pantagruelian, trips.
Palma di Montechiaro
The foundation of Palma is surrounded by a sort of mythical aura.
Mario Tomasi, a gentleman from Capua, the first of his family
to settle in Sicily, married Francesca Caro in 1583, and through
this marriage, which related him to a powerful Catalan seafaring
family, acquired the barony of Montechairo.
In this territory, his grandchildren Carlo and Giulio, who were
twins, decided to create the town of Palma in 1637. The following
year Fillippo IV made Carlo Duke of Palma, since he had been born
second. Carlo, however, took orders and therefore left the feud
and the title to his brother. Known as the "Saint Duke",
Giulio transformed his palace into a Benedictine monastery, where
his four daughters, as well as his wife Rosalia Traina retired
through the years, thanks to a papal dispensation.
The men in the family did not prove less pious: his eldest son
Giuseppe became a Theatine clergyman, he devoted himself to philological
studies, he became cardinal and was finally beatified by pope
Pius VII and canonised by pope John Paul II. Finally, the "Saint
Duke" himself, who had in the meanwhile become prince of
Lampedusa, retired to an enclosed life.
Palma di Montechiaro therefore had a sacred origin and it long
remained deeply linked to the hagiography of the saint Tomasis.
The place of origin of the Sicilian lineage, Palma remained inexplicably
unknown to Giuseppe Tomasi for almost all his life. The writer,
in fact, only went there for the first time in 1955, just a couple
of years before dying, and he very briefly noted in his diary
with the date 4th September: "Fine weather. Siculiana. Mass.
Set off by car at 3 p.m. with Agnello and Giò. Castle of
Montechiaro, huge photographies. Then to the cathedral with visit
to the dean. Lemon ices in the vestry. I was introduced to the
crowds. Then, visit to the lovely Benedictine convent: joyful
and kind welcome. The nice Abbess presented me with a birthday
cake and I was offered jasmine. Moved".
Giuseppe Tomasi went back to Palma on 10th October of the same
year. This was a particularly dense moment in his life in which
he developed two dreams, becoming a father and writing. The rediscovery
of his roots and of the diversity of his descent, so rigorously
vowed to a privileged relationship with God, certainly played
an unsettling effect on the conscience of the man and of the intellectual.
"Palma - Giioacchino Lanza tomasi writes -, this small Sicilian
Lhasa, struck the writer deeply, and prompted the final considerations
of the pages in which the protagonist of The Leopard prepares
himself to court death". The novel, that he had temporarily
interrupted to devote himself to his autobiographical memories,
was taken up again with alacrity just after the visits to Palma,
as if the return to his origins had stirred up in him a somewhat
religious longing for death and, together with it, a strong will
to survive through literature.
Augusta
In autumn 1916 Tomasi, who was then an artillery lance corporal,
was sent to Augusta where he spent three months before leaving
for the front and facing the war and his own imprisonment.
There he rediscovered the pleasure of enjoying his friends' company,
of discussing literary matters as well as of contemplating the
beauties of nature. During his stay in Augusta, he became acquainted
with Lieu-Tennant Enrico Cardile, with whom he shared a sensitive
nature as well as a common interest for literature.
Tomasi and his friend spent their free time in Augusta strolling
and taking boat trips, enjoying the limpid gulf water. A place
in particular attracted Tomasi's attention
"
that little inner bay byond Punta Izzo, behind the hill overlooking
the salt pans.
it's the loveliest spot in Sicily,
A wild bit of coast,
Utterly deserted not a house in sight;
tha sea is peacock-coloured; and right opposite, byond the iridescent
waves, Etna. From nowhere else as from there is it so lovely,
so calm, masterful, truly divine. It is one of those places in
wich one sees an eternal aspect of that island of ours wich so
idiotically turned its back on its vocation, that of serving as
pasturage for the herds of the sun."
We are not aware if the story of the mermaid was conceived during
one of these walks, in a time when Tomas had just finished his
classical studies, but the fact is that forty years later, those
places, caught in his memory, were to become the setting for the
delicate story of the mermaid Lighea, the writer's last short
story.
Capo d'Orlando
During his life Giuseppe spent a lot of time at Capo d'Orlando,
staying at his beloved Piccolo cousins' house. Already in the
thirties, because of a financial crisis, the Piccolo family had
retired to the family villa at Capo d'Orlando. The villa had a
delightful position overlooking the sea and the Aeolian Islands
right opposite the isle of Salina, which in the literary transposition
of The Leopard was to take the place of Lampedusa, the island
linked to his family's history. To the writer Villa Piccolo, with
its special atmosphere, always meant a place where he could take
refuge and escape from the problems of Palermo to recover the
memories of a happy childhood spent with his dearest relatives
and especially with his cousin Lucio with whom he enjoyed competing
in quotations and literary discussions.