It’s All A Matter of Perspective

Abstract

How easy is a bush supposed a bear. I offer the following story and commentary to Robert Langbaum as a token of gratitude for decades of delightful and stimulating conversation about art and literature, among other subjects. In addition to being a distinguished historian and critic of 19th and 20th century English literature, Bob is a passionate amateur of Renaissance art. Having lived for long periods of time in Italy, he has developed a deep understanding of Botticelli, Michelangelo, and Giorgione, among other masters of the Renaissance. For Bob the appreciation of art is rooted in the writings of Ruskin, Pater, Berenson, and Clark, writers who have the uncanny ability to translate the mute poetry of painting into words in their own artful prose poetry. I wish to turn here to a different but no less artful tradition of writing that illuminates art. I speak of the early tradition of the novella and specifically an amusing and instructive novella that touches on what Bob might call, the mystery of identity. novella to which I refer, The Fat Carpenter or Novella del Grasso Legnaiuolo, is generally thought to have been composed by Antonio Manetti, the biographer of the great Florentine architect, Filippo Brunelleschi. This tale (readily available in various editions and English translations) is part of a tradition of storytelling that extends from Boccaccio to Vasari and beyond. Although the tale has classical roots, is very modern in its play on identity. One can easily imagine Luigi Pirandello delighting in its fantasy. Once upon a time, long ago, there existed in Florence a kind of supper club made up of various men from the ruling class of the city as well and painters and sculptors among other craftsmen. At a gathering in the winter of 1409 they were sitting around the fire after supper when a member of the club remarked that a certain Manetto, known as the fat carpenter, Grasso, was absent, even though he was told about the meeting. Offended that Grasso had failed to show up, club members entertained themselves by thinking of ways in which they could pay Grasso back for having slighted them by his absence. Among those present, Filippo Brunelleschi, who knew Grasso well, proposed playing a trick on his friend, if everyone would go along with it. Given how clever Filippo was and how simple Grasso was, some resisted Filippo's suggestion, but eventually they acceded to his proposal and soon his scheme was set in motion. To make a long story short, Filippo entered the house of Grasso when the carpenter was away working in his shop. Grasso returned home to find the door locked. And so he knocked. Imitating the voice of Grasso, Filippo responded by calling out, who's there? Filippo replied, it is I, Grasso. Filippo addressed Grasso, however, not as Manetto, his real name, but as Matteo. Puzzled that he was being called by the name of another person, Grasso left wondering if he had lost his mind. As he was departing, confused, Donatello, one of Brunelleschi's conspirators, who just happened to be passing by, addressed Grasso by saying Good evening Matteo. If you are looking for Grasso, he came home a while ago. Grasso was again astonished that he was being addressed as if he were somebody other than himself. As the story unfolds, Grasso marvels at the mysterious loss of his and the acquisition of a new one. Other Florentines, in on the joke, address Grasso as Matteo and he insists that he is being confused with somebody else. story continues in this vein and at a certain point Grasso becomes convinced that he is no longer himself but is indeed Matteo. Grasso is, we might almost say, in the full throes of an identity crisis. Donatello and Brunelleschi eventually tell him that a certain Matteo has gone mad, and Grasso begins to wonder whether Matteo has become his former self. Pondering everything that has happened, however, Grasso eventually realizes that his friends have duped him. …