Jerusalem Delivered (Gerusalemme liberata) (Paperback)

Unfortunately, the IndyPublish hardback comes with absolutely no notes, introductory or otherwise. The cast of characters in the poem is very large, the scenes and settings shift, the action ebbs and flows, ...I believe that in order to appreciate the Fairfax as presented by IndyPublish you must have prior and intimate knowledge of the poem (cast, scenes, settings, history, etc) prior to reading. Call me a simpleton (you don't really need to, it's just an expression), but I found the notes and introductory material essential to provide context and full appreciation for Tasso's accomplishment. Without the knowledge and context, a non-scholar like myself might find the Fairfax to be a somewhat interesting but confusing and very long poem written in Elizabethan English about many people mentioned by name with whom the reader is not familiar...the reader may appreciate the art, but would miss much of the fullness of the poem provided by ready access to commentary, etc.

Now, a comment about presentation. I am not familiar with IndyPublish but I visited their web page and, if I understand their mission, it might be a neat idea...and I can understand why this edition of Jerusalem Delivered might not as fancy-shmancy (ok, maybe I am a simpleton) as some other books. The outer appearance of the IndyPublish J.D. reminds me of an un-labeled Baptist hymnal...it is bland. But, hey, you don't buy books because of flashy covers (...do you?). What I found very detracting was the formatting of the text itself. For example, in canto 1 each 8-line stanza is center justified, for canto 2 each stanza is left justified, for canto 3 each is right justified, for canto 4 each is centered, and in canto 5 the stanzas alternate between center and left justified and the left-justified stanzas are not centered in the page. Folks, this poem has 20 cantos, each of about 100 to 130 stanzas...switching the formatting from canto to canto, even within some cantos, is extremely distracting...and, in my opinion, results in a product that looks amateurish, like somebody was trying out the new desktop publishing software and wanted to sample all of the justification options again and again and again and again. Keep your Dramamine handy, its a bumpy ride. Also, individual stanzas in some cantos are broken across pages...maybe the first two lines of a stanza on the bottom of one page and the next six lines at the top of the following page. These 8-line stanzas are each singular units, the building blocks of the poem...they should be left whole! Like individual movements in a symphony...didn't you hate flipping the album over when side 1 was done but the music continued no side 2? Or, how about when your 8-track tape faded and changed tracks right in the middle of your favorite song? Freebird was meant to be heard in its full 18-minute glory, can't we give Tasso the same respect?!?!

First of all, let's be honest here: Jerusalem Delivered has a worldview which just about everyone reading today is going to find totally repulsive: Christians--good; Pagans--bad. Utterly and absolutely. True, Tasso's pagans (ie, Muslims) are occasionally praised, and his Christians sometimes stray, but really, let's not fool ourselves: this doesn't really amount to anything. Although Tasso's life was endlessly conflicted, here he is trying his hardest to write from a good, Christian viewpoint. I wasn't expecting the civilized urbanity of Ariosto or anything, but this is really a bit much. The climax of the poem, with Christians unapologetically slaughtering, pillaging, and raping (no, seriously--check book XIX, verse XXX)--all without a hint of disapprobation from Tasso--is pretty stomache-turning. You could *try* to argue that the scene is meant as some sort of subtle criticism in itself, but I really don't think you'll find any textual evidence for this. Contrast this with the sacking of Biserta in Orlando Furioso--surely that poem's darkest moment--and the difference becomes obvious. I realize that some people will dismiss my criticisms as nothing more than political correctness run amuck, and, ..., maybe it is, but I make no apologies. As a fairly serious reader, I'm accustomed to simply accepting things in literature that run totally counter to my own ideology, but being, alas, a mere human, there IS a limit. I want to stress that this only became irksome to me towards the poem's end, but it definitely affected my opinion of the work as a whole.

Even if one is capable of totally submerging one's own biased, twenty-first-century view, however, the fact remains that the poem is frequently...well, sort of boring. I think few would argue that, poetically, the best part of the poem, by quite some margin, is the account of Rinaldo's not-so-brutal imprisonment in Armida's bower. This is where Tasso really lets himself go, giving in, I think, to his real poetic instincts. Otherwhere, however, things get a bit less interesting. The battles, its true, have a certain icy, Homeric grandeur, but a little of that--even in Homer himself--goes a long way, and when the two teams aren't duking it out, we're made to deal with the characters, which can be trying. Like many writers, Tasso makes his villains much more interesting that his heroes: Argantes is surely one of the greatest epic villains ever, with his single-minded, unquenchable fury easily rivalling the Wrath of Achilles itself; Clorinda, in spite of a disheartening but inevitable last-minute change of heart, is one of your more badass woman warriors, if not quite up to the standards of Ariosto's Marfisa; and Armida is a femme fatale with few rivals. So that's all well and good, but the focus, unavoidably, is on the heroes. Let's cut to the chase: Godfrey is incredibly boring, in spite of a truly feeble effort by Anthony Esolen to defend him. And, while Rinaldo and Tancredie do have their own crises which elevate them a little above the pack, most of the Christian host is pretty faceless.

Still, all told, the poetry is enough to recommend Tasso. Because, occasional bouts of tedium notwithstanding, Tasso is a truly great poet. I'd even go so far as to say that--although I think I'd enjoy hanging out with Ariosto far more than with Tasso, and although Orlando Furioso is a far more enjoyable (and, let's face it, just plain BETTER) poem than Jerusalem Delivered--in terms of sheer poetical prowess, Tasso wins. Which is why it's so important to read his work in a good translation, which in turn is why it's essential to stay as far away from Anthony M. Esolen as possible. Your other, better, choice is Edward Fairfax's Elizabethan translation: Esolen may be more stricly faithful to the original, but he also has a tin ear, capturing only a middling portion of Tasso's sturm und drang. I suppose he would moderately acceptable if there was no other choice, but thankfully, there is: Fairfax's poetry is electifying, and well worth the time to search out. I'm a little baffled to see the high praise that Esolen is receiving from many (he should translate Ariosto? Please...as if there's a chance in hell he could do better than Barbara Reynolds). So, to put an end to this lunacy, I would like to end this review with a side-by-side comparison between the two. XVI, XIV.

Esolen:
Look at the chaste and modest little rose
sprung from the green in her virginity!
Half open and half hid; the less she shows,
the less she shows to men, the lovelier she.
Now she displays her bold and amorous
bosom, and now she wilts, and cannot be,
the same delight which was the longing of,
a thousand girls and a thousand lads in love.

Fairfax:
The gently-budding rose (quoth she) behold,
The first scant peeping forth with virgin beams
Half ope, half shut, her beauties doth up-fold
In their dear leaves, and less seen fairer seems,
And after spreads them forth more broad and bold,
Then languisheth and dies in last extremes:
For seems the same that decked bed and bow'r
Of many a lady late and paramour.

I certainly hope that settles that.