{"id":409472,"date":"2018-12-06T13:39:10","date_gmt":"2018-12-06T18:39:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/?p=409472"},"modified":"2018-12-06T13:40:10","modified_gmt":"2018-12-06T18:40:10","slug":"quo-vadis-baby-by-grazia-verasani","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2018\/12\/06\/quo-vadis-baby-by-grazia-verasani\/","title":{"rendered":"&#8220;Quo Vadis, Baby?&#8221; by Grazia Verasani"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>\u00a0<\/strong><strong><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-409482\" src=\"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/quo-vadis.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"220\" height=\"339\" \/><\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><i>Quo Vadis, Baby?\u00a0<\/i>by Grazia Verasani<br \/>\nTranslated from the Italian by Taylor Corse and Juliann Vitullo<br \/>\n180 pgs. | pb |\u00a09781599103662 | $15.00<br \/>\n<a href=\"http:\/\/www.italicapress.com\/index488.html\">Italica Press<\/a><br \/>\nReview by Jeanne Bonner<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The last time I wrote about Grazia Verasani\u2019s <em>Quo Vadis, Baby? <\/em>(Mondadori, 2007) I was researching an article for <em>Literary Hub<\/em> about works by Italian women authors that hadn\u2019t made it into translation on this side of the Atlantic. I can happily say the book has now been translated, and American readers can meet one of the most unlikely female protagonists coming out of Italian fiction, mystery or otherwise.<\/p>\n<p>Her name is Giorgia Cantini, a private investigator who doesn\u2019t care what anyone thinks of her. Moreover, she\u2019s unmarried, unkempt, and unusual. Indeed, one of the most arresting parts of <em>Quo Vadis, Baby?<\/em>\u2014and the later books in the Giorgia Cantini series, so far untranslated\u2014is the narrator. Specifically, the extent to which she is atypical for an Italian novel\u2014and atypical for any kind of female in the spotlight in Italy. It is to Verasani\u2019s credit that she takes Giorgia, someone she depicts as physically unattractive (a death sentence in many ways for women in Italy), and makes her into someone who is psychologically attractive (as all truly sexy characters are).<\/p>\n<p>Case in point, early in the novel, Giorgia\u2019s eye becomes inflamed\u2014a situation she fails to attend to, instead making it worse, like some schoolboy. Verasani writes, \u201cIf I were someone who puts on makeup, I\u2019d try to camouflage the difference between one eye and the other. I place the lit cigarette on the edge of the sink, wash my face, pick up the cigarette again, blink my eyes and breath in.\u201d Translation: She is not someone who cares about appearances. She is someone who drinks and smokes incessantly with a weariness that piques the reader\u2019s attention. At one point she opines, \u201cMy god, I\u2019m tired of being human, tired of it. I put out the cigarette under the faucet, rub some toothpaste on my teeth, then leave the house.\u201d That one line alone tells us so much about this character.<\/p>\n<p>Note, none of this is unusual for a P.I., but, again, it is unusual for the stereotype of Italian women we normally find in any kind of fiction, from books to TV to movies. (From personal experience, I can say that Italians can pick out a foreign woman on the street simply if her hair is still wet from the shower and devoid of any kind of styling).<\/p>\n<p>Giorgia eschews many other traditionally female roles. She spends her nights haunting jazz clubs around Bologna until the wee hours. And in scene where she is having lunch with a client named Lucia Tolomelli, she orders a coffee and a Campari, and when asked if she has children, she not only replies \u201cno\u201d but adds, \u201cfortunately.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Like all good murder-mysteries, there is a plot and there is a backstory. And the backstory is engrossing: Giorgia\u2019s sister decamped to Rome to pursue an acting career and wound up dead\u2014from suicide. That was more than a decade ago and it\u2019s never been clear what happened. As she goes about spying on unfaithful spouses for clients, Giorgia\u2019s thoughts are never far from her sister\u2019s tragic fate. Notably, Verasani intersperses letters from Ada into the narrative. Giorgia says, \u201cI\u2019ve transcribed a few sentences from the letter onto a note pad, and I read them now at traffic lights. The last year of my sister\u2019s life is all there in those scattered pages.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I see this, and I think, \u201cGo on.\u201d In fact, the efforts by the translators, Taylor Corse and Juliann Vitullo (both Arizona State University professors), to make this a smooth read pay off more often than not. It\u2019s worth noting that Vitullo is a professor of Italian while Corse is a professor of English. Good translations, after all, depend on good writing (in the final language, in this case, English).<\/p>\n<p>Letters can often be a successful narrative trope; here they work particularly well because they are letters from someone who has died. Someone whose death has yet to be explained, much less fully grieved (if that state exists). Interwoven into the plot about Ada and the letters is the mysterious identity of someone who might have seen Ada shortly before she committed suicide. Who is this person, known in Ada\u2019s letters only as \u201cA.\u201d?<\/p>\n<p>One would not want to insert too many spoilers into this review, but Ada\u2019s is not the only suicide in the book, and the relationship between these two suicides, and the repercussions of both make for interesting reading.<\/p>\n<p>Verasani has a way with sketching characters. While Giorgia is the star of the book (and the series), her father, who runs the agency with her, is also winning. He\u2019s your typical curmudgeon but he\u2019s not a stock character. Pointing to the computers that are now on the desks of agency employees, he says, \u201cIs that box really necessary?\u201d Lovable, but not without his peccadilloes, including a small alcohol problem (perhaps not surprising, given the grief he feels over the premature death of his daughter). After watching him quietly fumble around the office at one point, Giorgia points to the third drawer of his desk and says to him, \u201cThe bottle you\u2019re looking for is there,\u201d before walking out the door of the agency without another word.<\/p>\n<p><em>Quo Vadis, Baby?<\/em> is a fun read. But it also represents something else. The Italian prose that currently gets translated into English is overwhelming written by male writers (see <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2017\/08\/15\/complete-translation-databases\/\">Three Percent\u2019s database<\/a>, now hosted at Publisher\u2019s Weekly; of the 35 Italian books listed in the database as published this year, only 5 were written by women authors).<\/p>\n<p>Three of those books are mysteries by Andrea Camilleri, a beloved and veteran mystery writer, and he\u2019s among several Italian male authors that perennially appear in the database of translated works. Here instead we have a mystery by a woman writer\u2014a bit of a rarity. Verasani may not have Camilleri\u2019s profile in Italy\u2014few writers do\u2014but she is quite accomplished. As the book\u2019s publisher, Italica Press, notes, <em>Quo Vadis, Baby?<\/em> is a cult classic in Italy, and not only spawned five sequels but also a film adaptation by famed director Gabriele Salvatores.<\/p>\n<p>Verasani\u2019s prose\u2014and the capable translation by Corse and Vitullo\u2014is very accessible. In that sense, it may be less high-brow than other literary translations that make it to America (Camilleri\u2019s books notwithstanding). This is a mystery novel, after all, for a general audience. But one that will appeal to American readers who enjoy, say, Donna Leon\u2019s books.<\/p>\n<p>For its part, Italica has built a solid reputation among indie presses, and is particularly noted for translations of medieval Italian classics, including works by Boccaccio and Guido Cavalcanti. The press has also brought English readers a fine selection of works by Italian women authors who may not be well-known outside of Italy, including an anthology that features Elena Ferrante and the next generation of female authors. Now, Verasani has taken her place among them.<\/p>\n<p>Last but not least, who wouldn\u2019t want to read a book called <em>Quo Vadis<\/em><em>, Baby?<\/em> The original title (in Latin!, meaning \u201cWhere are you marching?\u201d) was so cool, the translators didn\u2019t even need to translate it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0 Quo Vadis, Baby?\u00a0by Grazia Verasani Translated from the Italian by Taylor Corse and Juliann Vitullo 180 pgs. | pb |\u00a09781599103662 | $15.00 Italica Press Review by Jeanne Bonner &nbsp; The last time I wrote about Grazia Verasani\u2019s Quo Vadis, Baby? (Mondadori, 2007) I was researching an article for Literary Hub about works by Italian [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":166,"featured_media":409502,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[67456],"tags":[68162,14086,68192,65476,68182,68152,68172],"class_list":["post-409472","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-review","tag-grazia-versani","tag-italian-literature","tag-italica-press","tag-jeanne-bonner","tag-juliann-vitullo","tag-quo-vadis-baby","tag-taylor-corse"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/409472","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/166"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=409472"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/409472\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":409492,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/409472\/revisions\/409492"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/409502"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=409472"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=409472"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=409472"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}