Giambattista Bodoni. Valerie Lester
and its lovely surroundings had already provided the scene for other literary adventures. Virgil mentions Vesulus (Monviso) in the Aeneid (X, 708). In the Decameron, Boccaccio tells the tale of cruel Gualtieri, marquis of Saluzzo, and his lovely wife, the infinitely patient Griselda. Petrarch tells the same tale in his De obedientia ac fide uxoria mythologia and his prohemium begins “Est ad Italiae latus occidum Vesulus, ex Apennini iugis mons unus altissimus.” [Vesulus/Monviso on the western side of Italy is the single highest mountain in the range of the Apennines.] Petrarch attracts Chaucer, who repeats the tale of the marquis of Saluzzo, now Walter, and patient Griselda almost word for translated word in “The Clerk’s Tale.” Here is Chaucer’s lovely description of Saluzzo (Saluces):
Ther is, right at the west syde of Ytaille,
Doun at the roote of Vesulus the colde
A lusty playn, habundant of vitaille,
Where many a tour and toun thou mayst biholde,
That founded were in tyme of fadres olde,
And many another delitable sighte,
And Saluces this noble contree highte.
The Clerk’s Tale, 57-63
These lines breed speculation: might Chaucer have visited Saluzzo when he traveled to Genoa and Florence in 1373?
Bodoni called Saluzzo his sweetest, most venerated birthplace, and retained a constant affection for it throughout his life. The beauty of the landscape, the literary and artistic tradition, and the opportunity to start printing at a very early age indelibly influenced the child who would become the greatest Italian printer of his era, and arguably of all time. This then was Bodoni’s patrimony: a small but important town set strategically on the top of a hill, on a trade route between France and Italy; an extravagantly fertile plain below; towering, gorgeous Monviso, one of the most perfectly shaped mountains in the world; a castle; beautiful civic and private buildings, some with terraces and exterior frescoes, including one of a particularly elegant Lady Geometry wielding an enormous pair of compasses; the hangover from chivalric romance; literary respect for patient women; and, most importantly, an already thriving printing tradition in which his own family played a major part.
IN 1729, the much-titled Vittorio Amedeo II (duke of Savoy, marquis of Saluzzo, marquis of Monferrato, prince of Piedmont, count of Aosta, Moriana and Nizza, king of Sicily, king of Sardinia) issued new legislative orders to his realm concerning education. The Comune of Saluzzo was directed to locate a bright and well-illuminated house with at least five rooms to act as classrooms. The Comune chose to rent the house of Signor Cavassa, heir of a powerful Renaissance family. The Casa Cavassa was built in the fifteenth century, carved and frescoed, and accommodated the steep nature of its site by flowing down six floors. The school, operated by the Jesuits and known as the Collegio Regio, was attended by Giambattista Bodoni and his brothers. In no way a backwater establishment, it attracted famous teachers from other parts of the country.
The Casa Cavassa, where Bodoni went to school.
The school year ran from November to August or September, at which point students were required to help with the harvest. No lessons were held on Thursdays and Sundays. The bell of the civic tower rang out each school morning to announce the start of lessons, a bell that served the useful purpose of informing parents of the time and thus preventing the boys (no girls, of course) from leaving home too early and making a nuisance of themselves in the town before classes. They attended Mass at school, and each morning recited a Latin prayer in unison, giving thanks to God, requesting help from the Blessed Virgin, and invoking protection for the sovereign. During holidays, they were obliged to attend Mass in their own parish.
The legislation of 1729 had ironclad rules: students were prohibited from playing ball; from frequenting cafés, inns, and theaters; from bearing firearms and knives; and from going to balls and wearing masks. Boys who failed to respect teachers and parents were harshly punished, and those who were incompetent or irreligious faced expulsion. These regulations were instituted deliberately to help to ensure the power of Savoy, and the sovereign, expecting complete obedience, left nothing to chance. Teachers were advised what classes to include; what textbooks to adopt; how to organize the school’s timetable; the way in which to correct and comment; the criteria for promoting boys from one class to the next; and the number of students per class. The regulations even went so far as to decree what homework the boys were assigned.8
A student was given seven years of education, but did not attend the actual school during his first year, working instead with tutors to learn how to read and write. Once installed at school, he began the study of Latin, Greek, Italian and French. Because of Saluzzo’s proximity to the French border, Bodoni grew up speaking Italian and French as well as the local dialect, which was seeded with both languages. Later, mathematics, history, geography, and mythology were introduced, and finally rhetoric, science, and humanities.
Bodoni’s sisters were taught to cook, mend, knit, and spin, and as members of the bourgeoisie, they could count on private tutors to teach them to “calculate” for the purpose of doing household accounts, and to read and write, as attested to by the letter of 22 September 1801 with its firm handwriting that Bodoni received from his sister Benedeta, saying “I have already written to you regarding the marriage that my son Francesco wants to make, without our consent . . . and your sister Angela has written to you . . .”9
Daughters of the nobility received a higher level of education. After learning to read and write, they studied French, the language of the court, reading mostly books of devotion and moral tales. They were taught to play a musical instrument, to draw, to paint, and to embroider. Poor girls were out of luck. Their job was working in the home; their challenge was to learn by example.
When the Comune first acquired the Casa Cavassa, the students and teachers endured long school hours in an unheated building with high ceilings and soaring windows, a building that threatened to collapse. The archives of the Comune contain a note of expenses for the acquisition of paper, flour, and oil for “breading” in the winter months. Breading refers to an early attempt at insulation in which paper imbued with oil and flour was placed over windows. Fortunately, in 1742, about five years before Bodoni entered the school, inspectors perceived the sorry state of the building and instituted desperately needed but minimal repairs.
The Casa Cavassa still stands, and functions as Saluzzo’s delightful municipal museum. It underwent serious restoration in the nineteenth century, and visitors today can enjoy its fifteen rooms, its frescoed chamber, Hans Klemer’s10 grisaille frescoes in the inner courtyard, painted wooden ceilings, period furniture, and the thought of young Giambattista Bodoni honing his already sharp intelligence within its walls.
As well as the influence of his family and his teachers, Bodoni was subject to the influence of the ruler of Savoy, in this case the long-lived Vittorio Amedeo III, a ruler known for his military courage, honesty, hard work, and wisdom. Giambattista grew up conservatively, respecting his ruler, his teachers, the church, and his family. He profited from a fine education in a small town where printing was already well established, and he lived in beautiful surroundings. With such a childhood behind him, he became a confident, ambitious young man, unafraid to seek fame and to boldly look it in the face.
Although no portraits exist of Bodoni as a boy, those that appear after his arrival in Parma reveal a handsome man who steadily gains girth as he grows older. He clearly relished his food; perhaps he enjoyed it too much, as gout would later suggest. One thing is certain: the food on offer in Saluzzo in his early years was of the highest quality, reflecting the cosmopolitan nature of the place.
Il cuoco piemontese perfezionato a Parigi11 is a marvelous book, published in Turin in 1766, and giving an idea of the kind of food available to the growing Bodoni family. Its anonymous author (most likely a man) follows the order of the seasons, starting with spring, which he calls the most pleasant season of all, but sadly lacking in chicks and ducklings, small birds, vegetables, and fruit. However,