Could Fivizzano have been the inspiration behind Umberto Eco’s best known novel?
Fivizzano is my local town and my adopted home so, as both a photographer and a walker, it is only natural that I spend a lot of my time reading up on its history in support of my work; work that sees me spending a lot of time on my own; time that finds me reflecting on all the things that I’ve read. It was during a recent reflective walk that I started to become aware of a number of similarities that appear to exist between Umberto Eco’s novel, The Name of the Rose, and a sequence of local medieval events. Are the similarities compelling enough to suggest that they might have influenced the novel’s storyline? To answer that question, I have separated my arguments into six categories, each of which is explored below:
Location
First, let us consider where Fivizzano is located and what it has in terms of ‘props’ that might make a persuasive case.
To pass muster it would need to be on a medieval ‘road’ that allowed ease of access to pilgrims arriving from other Italian city states, as well as England, France, and Spain. Conveniently, the Via Francigena (Pilgrims’ Way) passes right through Lunigiana, the land of one hundred castles, on its way from Canterbury to Rome and, while it does not go directly through Fivizzano, a variation, the Via del Volto Santo, does. What’s more, the Via del Volto Santo links the Via Francigena to Lucca and, from there, to Florence.
So, things are already looking good. But wait, there is more, and it comes in the shape of an Augustinian monastery that continues to afford accommodation to present day pilgrims. Founded in 1391, Fivizzano’s monastery was only the second Augustinian monastery to be built in Tuscany and, thereby, it was one of the most culturally significant Augustinian monasteries in Italy.
With the location looking promising perhaps we should move on to explore some of the key elements of the story’s plot.
Literature and books
One of the themes that is pivotal to the story is that of books. The principal labour undertaken by the monks in the novel’s Benedictine monastery is the copying and preservation of its library’s priceless collection. Literature and books are equally important in the history of Fivizzano. In 1471, Jacopo da Fivizzano created one of the first printing presses in Europe. The town is the birthplace of the poet Giovanni Fantoni (1755–1807), who was referred to as the ‘Tuscan Orazio’ (Orazio = Horace — Quintus Horatius Flaccus, Roman lyrical poet) but better known as Labindo through his membership of the Arcadia academy as Labindo Arsinoetico.
But I dissemble as we are not, of course, interested in modern books and printing presses when it comes to testing Fivizzano’s potential influence on Umberto Eco’s writing. What we are really interested in is ancient books and monastic libraries. As luck would have it Fivizzano can satisfy those requirements in spades. Read on.
Libraries and a Papal connection
In The Name of the Rose, everything revolves around the monastery’s library. The Augustinian monastery in Fivizzano also had, and still has, a famous library but of equal significance, perhaps, is that, on the 13th November 1397, Tommaso Parentucelli was born in Fivizzano. Tommaso went on to become Pope Nicolas V (Niccolò V) and it was he who established the Vatican library. By the way, the book connection doesn’t end here, as you will find out shortly.
In addition to locations and scenes, every good story needs a protagonist and a supporting cast.
The Orator and the Heretics
Girolamo Savonarola was a Dominican friar who denounced corruption in the Church, preached against despotic rule, and spoke up for the exploited poor. In this sense, he could be seen to represent the Franciscan side of the arguments at the novel’s big debate. For the same reason, he could stand as the character, Urbetino of Casale.
In the book, a Papal delegation, headed by Bertrand du Pouget, travels from Avignon to the Benedictine monastery. In the history of Fivizzano, it is the French King Charles VIII who does the traveling. With an army of 30,000 heavily armed soldiers he sacks the town while on his way to Florence, where Savonarola lauds him as being the saviour who will cleanse the city and purge it of corruption. In doing so, Savonarola seals his own fate. He is excommunicated. After persistent pressure from the Vatican he is arrested and imprisoned, along with two of his closest supporters. Under torture, they make their confessions and the trio are hanged and burned in Florence’s Piazza della Signoria.
Meanwhile, in Fivizzano, an Augustinian cleric, Leonardo Vallanzzara (known as Leonardo da Fivizzano) had captivated Lorenzo the Magnificent with his oratorical skills and became Savonarola’s nemesis. So much so, that Pope Alexander VI used him to formally announce Savonarola’s excommunication. Through Leonardo da Fivizzano, we have a character to represent the other side of the novel’s religious debate.
Returning to the subject of books, the lid of Leonardo’s burial casket can be seen in Fivizzano’s Museum of San Giovanni, where his sculpted body rests eternally, arms crossed, on a bed of books.
But surely one of the strongest links between Fivizzano and Umberto Eco’s book comes in the form of another of the monastery in Fivizzano’s friars, Alessio Cassani, who was accused of heresy for hiding numerous forbidden manuscripts within the monastery.
The murders
But what of murder? The Name of the Rose is, after all else is said and done, a murder mystery. Specifically, it is a murder mystery involving fratricide, which, in the case of the book, means friars killing friars. Fivizzano can meet this part of the plot with genuine fratricide.
Fivizzano’s principal castle was Castello Bosi Verrucola. For centuries, the Malaspina were the ruling family in Lunigiana and, as was customary with noble families of Germanic origin, they followed Salic law. This meant that their property was divided between all male heirs — a contributory factor in the dynasty’s fragmentation and one that would eventually lead to sibling rivalry.
In 1418, the Marquises of Fosdinovo were hungry to expand their share of the Malaspina territories. Consequently, Leonardo Malaspina of Castello dell’Aquila at Gragnola plotted with some of his brothers to kill their elderly relative, the Marquess Niccolò Malaspina of Castello Bosi Verrucola. Once dispatched, they would take control of his land and properties. A contingent of men was sent to infiltrate the castle and to murder not only the elderly Niccolò but to slaughter his entire family. Florence was not pleased. Unbeknown to Leonardo and his co-conspirators, two children had survived the massacre because, instead of being in the castle that night, they were tucked up in bed in the homes of their nurses. One was a baby girl called Giovanna and the other was a baby boy called Spinetta. Siding with Spinetta and Giovanna, the Florentines took control of the usurped lands along with the confiscated lands previously owned by Leonardo and his co-conspirators. Spinetta Malaspina was allowed to rule Fivizzano from when he came of age until his death in 1478.
Florence’s influence can be seen throughout Fivizzano and has earned it the nickname ‘little Florence’. The town walls were rebuilt by Cosimo de’ Medici I in the middle of the 15th century. In the centre of the Piazza Medicea, stands the magnificent fountain donated by Cosimo de’ Medici III in 1683.
The title of the book
Less convincing but still worth considering is that, in 1221, the Malaspina dynasty was split into two branches — the Dry Thorn (Malaspina Secco) and the Flowering Thorn (Malaspina Fiorito). Could the thorn be a rose? Could the name of the rose be Malaspina? The weakness in this argument is that the flowers of the Malaspina crest each have six petals whereas the rose has only five. However, as the thornless daffodil is the only heraldic flower to have six petals and the rose is by far the most common heraldic flower, the error is probably irrelevant as the crest is not intended to be a botanical illustration, it is a stylised heraldic charge.
Conclusion
Looking at all the evidence, do I believe that Umberto Eco was familiar enough with Fivizzano’s history that he was able to draw on it when he wrote The Name of the Rose? As a hypothesis it has merit. Umberto Eco would certainly have known the town, making it a possibility, but, deep down, I doubt it. Nonetheless, the parallels are striking, which makes for an interesting discussion over a pint at the end of a good day’s walking.
Author’s note
The article above is not a serious attempt to establish the unknown location of the Benedictine Abbey that is the scene for most of the events in Umberto Eco’s novel. Eco’s own foreword clearly lays down the genesis of his story, which I have neither the imagination nor the skill to unravel or rewrite. Rather, my article is intended to be a voice that highlights how the history of Fivizzano is just as rich, just as colourful, and just as intriguing as The Name of the Rose.
Nigel Fawcett, 2020