Vittoria Colonna
Maybe I should be
upset at the good folks at the fine New Advent
Catholic Encyclopedia, one of the great on-line
reference works. They have listed the Italian poet
(dare I say "poetess"?) Vittoria Colonna as Vittorio Colonna.
Vittori-O is a man's name. Vittori-A is the feminine
form—you know, the
weaker vessel. If it's just a typo, ok, get Attila
the Nun to whack the proof-reader across the
knuckles with a ruler. Or—this is perhaps a bit too clever—maybe it's sneaky obeisance to
Michelangelo's poem to Vittoria that starts,
Un uomo in una donna,
anzi uno dio,
in which the Renaissance master says that Vittoria
is not only as good as a man, but as good even as a
god. Heady praise, indeed, coming from the man.
(Michelangelo's sketch of her is shown above.)
In any event, Victoria (in English) Colonna was born
in 1492 and died in 1547. In the meantime, she made
the friendship of Michelangelo, Ariosto, Sannazzaro,
Aretino, and others, composing along the way a body
of poetry that would one day have her hailed as the
"first great woman poet in the Italian language."

Also
along the way, she married Ferrante Francesco
d'Avalos (painting, right) in 1509, Marquis of
Pescara, a Neapolitan nobleman of Spanish origin, who
was one of the chief generals of Emperor Charles
V. Vittoria and Ferrante were married in the fine
Aragonese castle on the island of
Ischia in the Bay of
Naples and lived there for a number of years.
Ferrante was one of Charles V's generals at the great
battle of Pavia in 1525, the climax of decades of war
between France and the Holy Roman Empire for control
of the Italian peninsula. The battle proved to be the
last stand for knights in shining armor, as the French
knights were annihilated by the new harquebus design
of hand-held firearm used by Imperial forces. During
the battle 3000 harquebusiers killed over 8000 French
armored cavalrymen.
Ferrante
was then involved in an anti-imperial conspiracy
that might have wrested the Spanish vicerealm of
Naples away from Spain and put himself on the throne
of Naples with Vittoria as his queen. We'll never
know, since (1) he died from the wounds incurred at
Pavia, and (2) he is said to given up the idea
because his Vittoria told him that she would rather
be the wife of an upright general than the consort
of a king who had backstabbed his way to the throne.
After Ferrante's death, Vittoria went into religious
seclusion and wrote poetry to her dead husband.
English translations of much of her poetry are
available. Here is one prose translation by George
R. Kay. It is in his Penguin Book of Italian Verse
(Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1958):
Vivo su questo scoglio
orrido e solo,
quasi dolente augel
che 'l verde ramo
e l'acqua pura
abborre; e a quelli ch'amo
nel mondo ed a me
stessa ancor m'involo,
perchè
espedito al sol che adoro e colo
vada il pensiero. E
sebben quanto bramo
l'ali non spiega,
pur quando io 'l richiamo
volge dall'altre
strade a questa il volo.
"I live upon this
fearful, lonely rock, like a sorrowing bird that
shuns green branch and clear water; and I take
myself away from those I love in this world and
from my very self, so that my thoughts may go
speedily to him, the sun I adore and worship. And
although they do not try their wings as much as I
wish, yet when I call them back, they turn their
flight from other paths to this one."
The same people (the New Advent Catholic
Encyclopedia) that called her "Vittori-O" says that
she was "undoubtedly greater as a personality than
as a poet". I disagree. They can't even get her name
right.
Quite recently, an unknown booklet of lyric poetry
by Vittoria was found at the Vatican. The booklet
includes 109 compositions. The discovery was made by
researcher Fabio Carboni, who describes the finding
in an essay published in Aevum, the review of the
historical, linguistic and philological sciences of
the Humanities Department of the Catholic University
of Milan.
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