I think it is well established by now that I trust the Melville House novella series implicitly. I can't imagine that I would have ever gotten around to reading this story otherwise. I think duels are largely dumb and had very little interest in Casanova, but I found this to be surprisingly entertaining and more thoughtful than I expected.

Another score for Melville House. ( )

I read this to prepare myself for Szentkuthy's 'Marginalia on Casanova,' which I'm currently reading and which will inevitably influence what I write here.

Obviously, I didn't feel like reading all 12 volumes of Casanova's memoirs, and the library didn't have any abridgements, so here I am. Luckily, this story gives a pretty good idea of Casanova's literary character, and, I'm guessing, the flavor of his work as a whole. Much of the eighteenth century is present: ludicrous ideas of personal honor; the bizarre combination of deep respect and murderous hatred, which leads (doesn't it always?) to something like friendship; highly stylized 'love'; the pan-European upper class that gets to go wherever it wants and always gets a good welcome; the deep divides between that upper class and everyone else; and elegance, everywhere you look. Otherwise, it's the story of a duel. You've probably read about eight billion of them, so you know how it goes. There is blood, there is manliness, there is fortitude, there is bravery. There is not, however, any obvious sign as to why Casanova was able to sleep his way through an entire continent. He's still well down my list of "18th Century Men I Would Have Sex With." ( )

Two, two, two books in one! Casanova wrote two accounts of his duel with the Polish Count Branicki. One was a thinly-disguised autobiographical novella, written in Italian, the other was included in his Memoirs and written in French. The first is more fleshed out, with whole sections of dialogue and much greater description and ruminations. It's interesting to compare the two. All the formality and etiquette of honor and duelling is strange to us, but was quite acceptable in Casanova's time. It is quite curious how Branicki and Casanova duel, while at the same time they deny that their fight is a duel since certain technical requirements are not complied with (no seconds, for instance). Yet they still engage in ritual compliments and deferrals to one another, though there's a bit of treachery on Branicki's part. Casanova was a fascinating character, with much more to him that the Don Juan/Don Giovanni part that he's famous for.