The novel is narrated by Biagio, the younger brother of the protagonist, and is the story of a young baron, Cosimo Piovasco di Rond, firstborn of a noble family sadly behind the times. The main story begins with a dispute on June 15, 1767 in the villa of Ombrosa, between an adolescent Cosimo and his father, after which Cosimo, who had quarreled with his father because he had refused to eat a snail soup, climbs the trees of the home garden and promises never to come down again in his entire life.
After the quarrel, Cosimo's life takes place in the trees; first in the family garden and then in the surrounding woods. Cosimo's life is full of adventures, from friendships with fruit thieves and bandits to days spent hunting or reading. In the life of the baron there is no lack of amorous encounters either. Cosimo's fame spreads quickly. At first, he becomes famous as a freak show and his family is almost ashamed of him, but later he also finds a way to win the respect of the Ombrosa community. The return of Viola, his first love, triggers a mutual feeling, always existent, which sadly ends due to a series of misunderstandings. The love between the two is strong, even if the relationship is filled with furious quarrels. Its end comes about in an unusual way: aged and sick, feeling the onset of death, Cosimo climbs to the top of a large walnut tree and hangs himself on a passing balloon. Thus, without betraying his promise to never set foot on the earth again, he disappears into the sky, without even giving the earth his remains.
On publication, various Italian critics complained of "the 'tired' feel of the plot in the second half of the novel"[1] while novelist and critic Elio Vittorini considered the "stylistic disunity between the early and later chapters" was a problem.[1] Despite these perceived flaws, critic Martin McLaughlin argues that the novel "remains something of a tour de force in Calvino's oeuvre. It is an extraordinarily successful attempt to reproduce a utopian, philosophical conte for the 1950s, with a whole range of intertextual allusions and a sophisticated parody of the poetics of the early English moralising novel as practised by Richardson and parodied by Fielding".[1]
But the farther into the book you read, the clearer it becomes that this is not a simple story about a rebel or an eccentric who spends his time in trees for some reason. The references to Enlightenment philosophers are impossible to ignore. Towards the beginning of the book, Cosimo spends a chapter or so getting to know his kingdom physically: the nature of each tree, the animals, the sounds and scents.
On a fig tree, though, as long as he saw to it that a branch could bear his weight, he could move about forever; Cosimo would stand under the pavilion of leaves, watching the sun appear through the network of twigs and branches, the gradual swell of the green fruit, smelling the scent of flowers budding in the stalks. The fig tree seemed to absorb him, permeate him with its gummy texture and the buzz of hornets; after a little Cosimo would begin to feel he was becoming a fig tree himself, and move away, uneasy.
Trees seem almost to have no right here since my brother left them or since men have been swept by this frenzy for the ax. And the species have changed too: no longer are there ilexes, elms, oaks; nowadays Africa, Australia, the Americas, the Indies, reach out roots and branches as far as here.
Italian Folktales is well worth the read, if you like that sort of thing. It sparked a lot of ideas in my mind about the connecting motifs, and the reasons behind telling the tales in the first place.
The Baron in the Trees has a name, and it is Cosimo Piovasco di Rond. His story, narrated by his little brother Biagio, is simple. After a fight with his father, he climbs up a tree and promises to never set foot on earth again. And so this he does, up until the very end.
I collect in this volume three stories that have in common their implausibility and the fact that they take place in distant eras, in imaginary places. I wanted to make a trilogy of them, about being realized as a human being: three levels of approach to freedom.
These stories use their fantastical plot to deliver a much more grounded concept. His interest in folklore and fairy tales is very noticeable in all of his works. Sometimes, it seems that Calvino creates magical worlds for no purpose other than to investigate them. For example, in Invisible Cities (1972) he uses the character of Marco Polo to explore fantastical, dreamlike cities. His style of writing reminds the reader of that of Jorge Luis Borges, of whom Calvino was a big fan. Both writers prefer shorter forms of narrative and build their imaginary worlds with metaphors and descriptions, creating whole universes out of words that seem to have no tie with reality.
Although The Baron in the Trees is set in an imaginary place, the time is real: it takes place during the French Revolution. Keeping on with his studies, Cosimo chooses to rebel not only against his father but against society as well. First, he hides a fugitive bandit and gets him into literature, by reading to him up until his last days. Then, he joins the French Revolution, actively helping and supporting the cause. He becomes so involved in the cause that, when the Revolution falls apart, he almost goes mad.
The death of his parents, of his dog, the life of his brother: everything happens far from him, as he is unable to connect with them anymore. Quite literally, he is not on the same ground as everyone else, and he has to pay the consequences. He struggles with love too. He loses the two women that he once loved, first Ursula and then Viola, because they cannot adapt to his lifestyle or vice versa.
While Cosimo is the prototype of the true intellectual illuminist (even in the trees he keeps studying, reading, and exchanging letters with the most relevant philosophers of the time), Viola embodies the romantic way of life. She puts her feelings ahead of everything, letting them control her choices. Thus, their difference represents a wider split in the world: that between Illuminism and Romanticism.
You are nothing but a little weird, scary, utterly fantastic, and surely wild and delightful. How did you hunt in, sow crops from, and traverse carob, fig, pear, and plum trees in Ombrasa, Italy? Your contemporary, Rosseau, thought you were a little crazy, too.
Your work says a lot about today, as we entertain planting trees and foraging, at the highest levels, but maybe not as high as you did. In the trees. Foraging and scavenging are hot and thoughtfully quiet work that bears fruit regardless of the season. Wildcrafting classes with Wild Abundance in Asheville NC, offer such deepening knowledge.
Oyster Mushroom Straciatella
made in one pot, this soup is a wonderful way to warm up to the meal and impending conversations. both while making it in the kitchen and eating it at the table.
Frittata of Spring Greens with Goat Cheese
This is a perfect dish because it can be so very flexible. And ready quickly. Like spring? Warm one dang minute, and icy the next. Love spinach? No problem. Kale? Swiss Chard? Cheese, too? Put it all in there. The finished frittata is pretty, but rustic, and ready for your fork. Serve warm or cold.
Add egg mixture to very hot pan. Using a fork stir the eggs in a circular motion towards the center, eggs will cook very quickly. Push down any ingredients with a fork, and reduce heat. Cover with a lid, keeping heat on medium.
Place slices in a single layer on the cookie sheet. return to oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until lightly browned. remove cookies sheet from the oven. cool fig and walnut toasted biscotti on wire cooling rack. store in an airtight container.
Ahoy, fellow reviewer. I stumbled across your blog doing a search for "Calvino" on Blogger.com. Was delighted to find your review of The Baron in the Trees.
By a funny coincidence, I've also written a Calvino review this week, on Invisible Cities.
Look forward to reading your future posts!
Very much enjoyed reading your review, impressive understanding of the novel. I'm currently studying this text alongside the other two in the triology at university and have to disagree ever so slightly!
The adult stage of the baron's life, however explicit, is simply a natural stage - From childhood fantasies, to adult fantasies and then to an elderly retirement. The sad, nostalgic voice of Biagio echoes this natural progression but cleverly avoids the inevitable fall of death with the illusion of Cosimo's ascent in the hot air balloon.
I don't think that Biagio stating that this was a personal account is Calvino trying to cover up that the novel had gone wrong at some point, I think it was a way to justify such a long, indulgent reminisce about his brother; also a way to personalise the narrative, to plea with the reader a sense of sympathy against the possiblity of mockery where his brother is concerned and also to complete the character of Biagio as a conscious, first person narrator who does in general speak as an omniscient figure.
However, I can definitely accept that it tarnishes the infantile fantasy of the first segment of the book, the magic of the trees and Cosimo's inventions and adventures; but I don't believe that Calvino ever wanted the baron to remain an eternal tree-climbing child, I think the fantasy of the book is that he can and does mature on the treetops of Ombrosa.
I had the same idea--that this was the ideal bedtime narrative. Then my partner pointed out that the ecstatic tree top love making might not be suitable (but whatever, kids learn about that stuff, right)? I love that in Calvino books, there are always books. Cosimo's other relationships are volatile, but books are stable. Moreover, knowledge (book reading) takes him out of this world and literally, in Cosimo's case, elevates him and broadens his horizons.
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