SOURCE: “The Sixteenth Century: The First Epistolary Romances in Prose,” in The Beginnings of the Epistolary Novel in France, Italy, and Spain, University of California Press, 1937, pp. 69-79.

[In the following excerpt, Kany discusses two sixteenth-century Spanish works that he considers to be the first true epistolary novels, and he examines their influence on European romantic and pastoral literature.]

In 1548 … there appeared in Spain the Processo de cartas, a full-fledged epistolary novel made up entirely of prose letters. Fifteen years later (1563) a still longer romance wholly in letter form, Pasqualigo's Lettere amorose, appeared in Italy. These are the only two examples which we have inherited from that period.

Premature efforts at best, their technique fell far short of perfection, and their significance is wholly premonitory. Nor is it surprising that they gave rise to no immediate and direct imitation. The inserted letter of the romance continued its fixed course and shows no startling change such as might have been brought about by the impinging influences of the Processo de cartas and the Lettere amorose. These two romances are, then, to be regarded as pioneer works which cleared a path for the advance of the epistolary novel.

PROCESSO DE CARTAS (1548)

The fuller title of this Spanish romance is: Processo de cartas de amores que entre dos amantes passaron. Of the author, Juan de Segura, nothing is known. Alfonso de Ulloa printed the Cartas anonymously in Venice in the year 1553.¹ Juan de Segura's name, however, appears in the editions of 1548, 1553 (Alcalá), and 1564.² Ticknor (I:426, note 13), who knew only the 1553 anonymous edition, suspected that the Cartas were written by Diego de San Pedro, according to a phrase in the latter's Desprecio de la fortuna where he speaks of “aquellas cartas de Amores, escriptas de dos en dos.” But this statement must refer to some other work. …

Perhaps the best way to demonstrate how the simple plot is developed in this first of epistolary novels, will be to give a brief summary:

Not until the lover has written his lady three letters (signed Captivo) protesting his deep affection does she deign to reply (number 4), telling him that since pity is natural to women, she responds to this inner voice, but she warns him not to write again. Overjoyed, he begs her (5 and 6) to pronounce his doom. She will not give him the satisfaction of ordering his death and rejoices in his torment (7). If he prove sufficiently long-suffering and worthy she may reply to his question. Until then she wishes to hear no more from him, though she admits that his epistolary style is agreeable.

In letters 8 and 9 he is despondent as any condemned man, reading and rereading her cruel sentence. Finally she relents (10), “opening the door” to his desire but enjoining upon him the utmost discretion. This reply inflames his passion (11). Since she has opened to him the gate of commiseration, he will neglect nothing to obtain still greater favors. He begs her (12) to write when she can, for he sees her so seldom. She confesses (13) that she is won and promises to meet him at a place he frequents.

Subsequently he tells her (15) how much their interview delighted him and asks whether he may not enjoy her conversation undisturbed some evening, for he has now served her for two years. At this she reproaches him for his haste and inexperience in love (16). He, in turn, curses his hand and his tongue for the offense they have given (17).

After six days he writes again (18), begging her to visit the place where his body will soon be buried. She replies (19) that since she has been the cause of his misfortune, she will remedy it as soon as an opportunity presents itself. After two rapturous letters from him (20 and 21) she informs the ecstatic lover (22) that she has not forgotten her promise and that she and her mother will watch at Nuestra Señora de Gracia early that very evening.

He is grateful for the all too short interview (23). Now that he has spoken with her and enjoyed her sweet and instructive conversation as well as her beauty, he is lost indeed (24). She is pleased with his letters (25) and would consider herself most ungrateful if she did not accord him her favors. At their last meeting she noticed his downcast eyes and his silence. This shyness she attributes to excessive love. She will meet him in the afternoon at the usual place. All his joy consists in seeing her at the appointed hour (26).

Would that she had not seen him (27), for the fire in his eyes has kindled her heart and won her completely; but he must speak to her brothers about their union, since she is obedient to their will.

He reports (28) that he has asked for her hand but has been refused. She writes (29) that his last letter proposing an elopement has been intercepted by her brothers and that they are planning to take her away. She begs him to find some means to write. She is sending this letter by a maid who will serve them in their future correspondence. If he is deprived of the sight of his lady, he cannot live an hour (30). Her afflicted heart undergoes tortures during the hours when she used to see him (31).

He sends her silks of various colors (32). She thanks him for his letter and present (33). She is confined to a convent and wishes him to send a gift to one of the “devotas señoras,” whom she has chosen for her confidante, and whom she hopes to win over to their side.

Not hearing from him for two weeks, she reproaches him severely (34). Sickness has prevented him from writing (35). He sends cloth for a robe and twenty escudos for hoods as a gift to her confidante. She writes that Doña Juliana is grateful (36) and sends him some pastries in return. She wishes he would serenade her but warns him to sing softly.

She writes (38) that Orpheus could never equal the sweetness of his music, which the nuns thought to be the voice of an angel from Heaven. He replies that the source of his music is her beauty (39). She writes (40) that her parents and brothers, having learned of the serenading, are determined to take her far away, she knows not whither.

After his lady is taken from him, he writes to Doña Juliana (41) requesting her to send him certain promised relics. Doña Juliana replies (42), enclosing a cloth which bears a few drops of blood left for him by his lady, and tells him there is no hope for his love.

In his misery, he writes to a loyal friend (43), seeking advice. He wishes to put an end to his wretched life. His friend attempts to console him (44) by sending a copy of the story of Luzindaro and Medusina, similar to his own. The romance has this title: Quexa y aviso de un cavallero llamado Luzindaro, contra amor y una Dama, y sus casos, con deleytoso estilo de proceder, hasta al fin de ambos: sacado del estilo Griego en nuestro Castellano. It is a mixture of sentimental discourses, allegory, and fantastic adventures:

A king of Greece, versed in astrology, imprisons his daughter in a tower in order to prevent the fulfillment of her destiny as predicted by the stars. But the wise Acthelasia frustrates his plans by making Luzindaro, son of the king of Ethiopia, fall in love with the unhappy princess after beholding her in a vision. With the aid of a magic ring, Luzindaro makes his way into the tower. At first unsuccessful in his suit, he is later much favored. But he must undergo shipwreck and many other adventures before he is united in marriage to Medusina. After a brief period of happiness, the princess dies. Luzindaro, in despair, starves himself to death, after having devoured the ashes of his beloved.

Thus end the story and the Processo.

It is interesting to consider in the Processo how the action taking place outside the letters proper is incorporated into the general scheme. The method lacks smoothness and finish, to be sure, in this first effort; but the attempt is worthy of note. Not until letter 12, for instance, do we learn that the lover sees his lady from time to time. Up to this point the reader assumes the relationship between the two lovers to be wholly epistolary. Again, in letter 13, she arranges to meet him; in letter 15 he tells how much he enjoyed meeting her. The interview itself, which we are to infer took place, is nowhere described. In letter 22 she informs him of her intention of going to church with her mother; in letter 24 he speaks of having enjoyed her sweet conversation, etc.; in letter 25 she makes a casual remark about his conduct at that meeting. In the same letter, she arranges for another tryst, the emotional result of which we learn in letter 27. The brothers' refusal to grant the request of the lover and their later action in bringing about the dénouement are treated in greater narrative detail, yet not so completely as might be desired.

Although the work contains many letters that teem with extravagant conceits of the time, it is nevertheless of great importance in the development of the genre, for it is the first modern novel made up entirely of letters. Juan de Segura, having generalized the procedure of Aeneas Silvius, Diego de San Pedro, and even older authors, has thus honored the literature of Spain. Save for its mention in histories of Spanish literature, Spain's claim to priority in the epistolary novel has never been sufficiently recognized.³

Though the work enjoyed four editions in Spain, only its appendage, the story of Luzindaro and Medusina, seems to have been translated into French.

LETTERE AMOROSE (1563)

The second epistolary novel is Alvise Pasqualigo's Delle Lettere amorose libri due ne quali leg gendosi una historia continuata d'uno amor fervente di molti anni tra due nobilissimi amanti, si contien ciò che puo in questa materia a qualunque persona avvenire.⁴

The Processo de cartas is a mere tale compared with this, for here we have 557 letters, divided into two books. Since a detailed account of them would be impossible, not to say inexpressibly dull, I shall trace only the main facts of the story.⁵

The nobleman Alvise Pasqualigo, returning to Venice after a seven years' absence during which he has tried to forget Madonna Vittoria, attempts through frequent writing to revive what had been an unsuccessful affair. Vittoria, wife of a young count, is overwhelmed by Alvise's importunities and finally promises to love him as a brother. But he insists in many letters upon seeing her secretly; and she, chary of her reputation, entreats him not to show her portrait to anyone nor to breathe a word about her.

She remains implacable, doubting the sincerity of his love; whereupon Alvise threatens to kill himself. Convinced of her lover's constancy by this threat and regretting her doubts, Vittoria meets him clandestinely one day in order to reassure him of her affection. From that day on, the letters of Madonna are poignantly sad and bitter. Anonymous letters (97, 105) are written by an admirer for the purpose of inciting the jealousy not only of her husband, but of Madonna herself.

Vittoria soon becomes pregnant (163) and her jealousy and discontent increase (218, 249). In vain does Alvise attempt to convince her that he uses the other ladies of his acquaintance as a screen for their own love; she continues to live in anxiety and desires death:

… per esser io donna priva d'ogni conversazione & si puo dire confinata in casa, & per convenirmi pensar sempre di quella cosa che più m'è cara, non havendo con alcuna sorte di trattenimenti da rompere il mio fisso pensiero, o pur da sviarlo per qualche momento.

(240)

Her greatest woe is that she must live with her husband, “chi mortalmente m'odia” (322). He has charged a certain Fortunio to keep strict watch over all the household. During this time the lovers, unable to see each other, find consolation in epistolizing. Finally, assuming girl's attire and accompanied by a lady, Alvise spends happy moments sitting beside Vittoria in church (346-347).

The situation becomes so perilous that Alvise never leaves the house without the accompaniment of three noblemen. Yet his lady's love does not diminish. She falls dangerously ill on learning that, to avoid marrying a girl of his parents' choice, he plans to leave the city for a month (450-451); she would rather that he marry the girl than that he go so far away. Alvise, however, thinks best to depart.

Here ends the story as told in the 1563 edition, which is probably the first. Without mentioning this edition, Albertazzi (pp. 55-56) and Wiese simply say that the letters appeared before 1569 under the title of Lettere di due amanti.⁶ Natali in his monumental Settecento (1929, II:1095) mentions only the 1569 edition in attempting to corroborate his erroneous statement that the first epistolary novel was Italian.⁷ In the 1569 and 1607 editions, the work was called Lettere amorose di Messer Alvise Pasqualigo. Albertazzi for his analysis probably used the 1607 edition, which is divided into four books and contains the dénouement of the romance. Since I had access to the 1563 edition only, I shall give a brief account of the dénouement as related by Albertazzi:

Returning to Venice after a four months' absence, Alvise finds Madonna Vittoria a changed person, quite secure against all temptation. She reassures him of her Platonic affection but adds that the long separation has cured her of culpable love. The truth, however, is gradually revealed. Vittoria in the interim has had another lover, and indeed no other than Fortunio, the spy. Since her attempts at denying it are futile, she reluctantly confesses her misdeed. Derided by his friends, Alvise finally challenges Fortunio and wounds him in a duel. Vittoria intercedes for him, showing Alvise a letter in which Fortunio consents to leave her, since she so desires. But this is in vain. Alvise leaves her to despair.

It is thought that these were real letters, written, copied, and preserved with the intention of being published, “quasi a modello di epistolario amoroso.”⁸ The writers therefore took precautions: proper names are never given in full, the husband is usually referred to as “amico” (24, 47, 54, 81), “matto” (530), “nemico” (163), etc. The letters embody many disquisitions on love, which was characteristic of the period. The current question whether a lover ought to be favored by many or by only one lady forms the subject-matter of four letters (210-213); nor are arguments for and against jealousy lacking (218, 249, 263, 342, 362). The letters are too repetitious in thought and in sentiment to make very pleasant reading—probably owing to the fact that they are genuine and not fictitious. The constant reiteration of mutual faith, the exaggeration of mood and emotion, the endless adjurations, and the eternal protests are unfavorable to that sense of selection and progress demanded in a conscious work of art. In spite of the extremists in contemporary literature, it seems reasonable to expect the novel to have a less private and limited appeal than any collection of actual correspondence. But whatever its limitations as a work of art, the Lettere amorose takes its place with the Processo de cartas, Spain's strangely neglected contribution to the history of literature.

PASTORAL ROMANCES

In dealing with the pastoral romances I shall choose as examples only such episodes as show a continuation of, or an advance over, the use of the letter as last seen in the Italian erotic romances.

The device by which the individual episodes are made to fit into the whole work is nearly always the same: a company of shepherds come upon another shepherd, who is lamenting his amorous misfortunes and who, upon their request, recites his tale of woe.

The Italian pastorals, the Ameto and Sannazaro's Arcadia (1504), offer no letters. Even the first Spanish pastoral, Montemayor's Diana (1558), has nothing of the particular interest. Though it contains nine letters, they are not of sufficient importance to warrant their consideration here. Gil Polo's Diana enamorada (1564) falls into the same category.

The Segunda parte de la Diana de Jorge de Montemayor, on the other hand, written by Alonso Pérez (1564), has twelve letters which serve to advance the plot. I shall give in brief form the contents of one of the episodes in this pastoral:

Disteo receives a letter (p. 398 in the 1622 edition) from Palna, his “madre de leche,” in which she explains why she has suddenly left him, whom she calls her “only consolation.” She begs him to have patience until she can make full explanation. Sagastes has persuaded her with promises and gifts to become the confidante of his sister Dardenea, whom Disteo loves. After some time Disteo replies to Palna (p. 400), pardoning her desertion.

Because of his love for Dardenea, Disteo avoids all companionship and is sunk in melancholy. Attributing his plight to her absence, Palna is deeply grieved and writes him a letter (p. 401, not given in full), reminding him of his promise to be patient. She exhorts him to banish his sorrow and to exercise himself in arms. Disteo replies to this (p. 401, not in full) that since she is near his Dardenea, he is content. Finally, at his request, she arranges a tryst with Dardenea. He disguises himself as Palna's nephew Placindo, whose place he takes as the bodyguard of Sagastes, about to engage in a fierce nocturnal adventure. Thanks to Disteo, Sagastes is successful and is proclaimed a hero.

The following day Disteo sends a letter to Palna (p. 414), describing the adventure. Palna, in turn, relates the whole story to Dardenea, who, thinking her honor involved, forbids Disteo her house. She relents only after Disteo has acquired a reputation throughout the kingdom for his heroic deeds.

Disteo writes Palna again, enclosing a letter for Dardenea. But Palna, not daring to deliver the missive directly, resorts to a cunning trick. She arouses Dardenea's curiosity by shutting herself continually in her room. Dardenea, having discovered that Palna is engaged in reading and writing letters, one day undertakes a search for the epistles, and this is what she finds (pp. 420ff.):

(1) Letter from Disteo to Palna, in which he laments her loss and begs her to give Dardenea the enclosed note.

(2) Letter from Palna to Disteo, in reply to (1), in which Palna thanks him for his kind thoughts, but will return his note lest it displease her mistress.

(3) Letter from Disteo to Dardenea (in terza rima), in which he writes that he is bidden by Amor to admonish her lest she anger Cupid or Nature. If she will not requite his love, he will seek death.

Aroused, Dardenea addresses him (pp. 425-428, terza rima) as “el más de los hombres atrevido.” If she thought a reply were dishonorable, she would sooner take up the sword to find death than the pen to answer him. Relenting somewhat, she says she cannot prevent his loving her; if he uses force she must needs consent in spite of herself. But since hope is uncertain, and evil and harm are sure to result, it would be better to “open the door to forgetfulness and disdain.”

Now Palna, who has been allowed to read this reply, sends another letter to Disteo (p. 428), lest Dardenea's harshness discourage him. She urges him to persevere, since his beginning is so favorable. Dardenea, however, will not consent to speak with Disteo until he promises to marry her. After the exchange of many more letters (p. 428, not noted individually), Disteo expresses his desire to wed her, and he is allowed to see her one evening. Discovering that Palna has unwittingly left the door unlocked, Disteo returns furtively to his beloved. Later Dardenea's brother enters the room unexpectedly, but Disteo, with more ingenuity than clothing, manages to escape unrecognized. A happy ending is indicated when the two lovers and Palna flee from the closely guarded city to live the peaceful life of shepherds.

Although this romance was cast into the bonfire in the examination of Don Quixote's library because the author had not followed the plan of Montemayor, it is of greater interest for our purposes than the Diana itself.

We may pass by Montalvo's Pastor de Fílida (5 letters), Cervantes' Galatea (10 letters), and many others, but we owe some attention to Lope de Vega's Arcadia (1598). This pastoral begins with a rhapsodic love letter from the shepherd Anfriso to his love Belisarda (pp. 92-95 in the 1653 edition). Belisarda answers fondly (p. 104), telling him that she is to be alone that evening, and sending him a lock of hair.

But Anfriso has rivals who make his life miserable. He goes off into the mountains to forget his shepherdess, sending two shepherd boys to keep him posted on events in town. They write him a full account, with special emphasis on the constancy of Belisarda. In the solitude of his retreat, Anfriso is consoled by reading the innumerable letters from his love. But the shepherd boys bring him news of Belisarda's departure for Cilene. Anfriso finds means to write to her, and she replies (p. 109). Then Anfriso, reassured by her letters, abandons the mountains and journeys to Cilene. Shortly after his arrival he receives a letter from Belisarda (p. 109) saying that she is arranging to meet him. They spend several days in festivities and entertainment, nevertheless still exchanging love letters (p. 116).

Then Belisarda asks Anfriso, for the sake of their mutual tranquillity, to leave her. Dressed as a pilgrim, the sorrowful shepherd wends his way to Italy, and the rest of the story deals with his wanderings. The unfaithful Belisarda marries another.

Though many of the letters in the Arcadia are not given in full, their contents are indicated. This was the common practice in writing pastorals, which were not generally of great length. Occasionally, however, we find the letters given in their entirety, as they are in the heroic-gallant novels of the XVII^th century. One of these rare exceptions is Antonio de lo Frasso's Diez libros de fortuna de amor (1573). This work is less episodic than the ordinary and has a connected plot, which is, however, too long to be included here.

Although the Diez libros de fortuna de amor is ridiculed by Cervantes (El Quijote, I, 6) and characterized by Ticknor (III, 45, n.) as “absurd” and full of “so much bad verse,” nevertheless, so far as it relates to the epistolary genre, it has more merits than any of the other pastorals. It is free from the host of disconcerting and disrupting episodes that characterize the type. It can therefore develop its own action, scanty as that may be, to its full extent, and give free play to a long series of letters and verses which would probably have found only passing mention in the condensed episodes of other pastorals.

It is interesting to note the methods employed by the very late pastoral writers, such as Florian (1755-94). By the middle of the XVIII^th century, the pastoral had long since fallen into disrepute. The very name of the pastoral was somniferous: “dès que l'on annonce un ouvrage dont les héros sont des bergers, il semble que ce nom seul donne envie de dormir.”⁹ The cause of this “dégout” for the shepherd romances was probably their remoteness from real life, their prolixity, and their countless episodic digressions. Florian therefore reduced his charming Galatée written in imitation of Cervantes' Galatea to one hundred pages, about one-third the length of the original, and inserted but one letter; his Estelle (132 pages) likewise contains but one.¹⁰ This paucity of inserted missives is partly due to the fact that the letter device had long since become strong enough to exist independently, and had therefore been dismissed from the romance to form an entity of its own. The pastorals had contributed their part toward the development of the epistolary genre. They adopted the letter from the sentimental and erotic romances,¹¹ kept or increased its vigor, then passed it on to the heroic-gallant novels. The important channel through which the letter was conveyed to these XVII^th-century romances is the pastoral par excellence, the Astrée.

Notes

1. Such is the copy in the Ticknor collection (Boston Public Library).

2. Cf. Orígenes, I:cccxxxviii.

3. Singer, for example, in his recent work The Epistolary Novel (1933), not only ignores the existence of the Processo but makes this rash statement (p. 214): “… no great literature, with the possible exception of the Spanish, seems to have escaped completely from the [epistolary] impulse.” It might be noted here that the picaresque novel, engendered in Spain, may well have contributed its share of intimate narrative in the first person to the popularity of the equally self-revealing memoirs, journal-books and letters which eventually led to the epistolary novel.

4. Venetia, Fr. Rampazetto (1563), ed. by Francesco Sansovino. Reynier (p. 256, note 3) mentions a collection of letters that appeared in Venice in 1562: Lettere amorose di Mad. Celia scritte al suo amante. This exceedingly rare work I have not seen.

5. In the preface to the 1563 edition, Francesco Sansovino states his purpose in publishing the letters: to expose woman's fickleness in affairs of the heart and to warn noblemen against the snares of love. He thinks the following moral may be drawn from the work:

   che lo huomo nobilissimo tra tutte l'altre cose del mondo, mal fa quando si dà in preda all'affetto amoroso, & che egli dee cercare di spendere il tempo in cose di valore & non d'Amore, & ch'il Petrarca ben disse il vero quando lasciò scritto,

   Femina è cosa mobil per natura
   Ond' io so ben ch'un amoroso stato
   In cor di donna picciol tempo dura.

6. Cf. Wiese and Pèrcopo, Geschichte der ital. Litt. (1899), p. 379.

7. “… le origini del romanzo epistolare sono italiane; noi avemmo le Lettere amorose di Alvise Pasqualigo sin dal 1569.”

8. Albertazzi, p. 57, and Letter 416.

9. Cf. Florian, Œuvres (Paris, 1838), I:162.

10. Ibid., I, Galatée (1783), Estelle (1788).

11. The French sentimental novel at the turn of the century looks back to works already discussed; space prohibits mention of their relatively unimportant imitations.

Bibliography

Albertazzi, A. Romanzieri e romanzi del cinquento e del seicento (Bologna, 1891).

Florian. Œuvres (Paris, 1838).

Natali, G. Il Settecento (Storia letteraria d'Italia, Milan, 1929, 2 vols.).

Pasqualigo, Alvise. Delle Lettere amorose libri due (ed. F. Sansovino, Venetia, 1563).

Reynier, G. Le Roman sentimental avant l'Astrée (Paris, 1908).

Segura, Juan de. Processo de cartas de amores que entre dos amantes passaron (Venice, 1553).

Singer, G. F. The Epistolary Novel, Its Origin, Development, Decline, and Residuary Influence (Univ. of Pennsylvania Press, 1933).

Ticknor, George. History of Spanish Literature (New York, 1849, 3 vols.).

Wiese and Pèrcopo. Geschichte der italienischen Litteratur (1899).