*Federico Schneider (fschneid@umw.edu) is Associate Professor of Italian at the University of Mary Washington. As a literary historian, his approach focuses on what literature does more than what it says, including its impact on other arts, especially late Renaissance music. His studies, which have been published in both Italian and English, in Canada, the United States, and Italy, have addressed the aspect of tragicomic temperament in Claudio Monteverdi’s Fifth Book of Madrigals (2008), revealed crucial Dantean resonances in Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo (2011), and brought to bear the full weight of Renaissance neo-Aristotelian dramaturgy on early opera—L’Euridice and L’Orfeo—in order to illuminate its dramaturgy (2016). His next contracted book (forthcoming in 2019) features an altogether new historiographical approach to early opera that fully accounts for its literary component.
[1] Biographers record Marino’s presence in Mantua for the celebrations: Angelo Borzelli, Storia della vita e delle opere di Giovan Battista Marino (Naples: Tipografia degli Artigianelli, 1927), 103–9; Alessandro Martini, in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, s.v. “Marino, Giovan Battista,” 522.
[2] Giovan Battista Marino, L’Adone, ed. Giovanni Pozzi (Milan: Mondadori, 1976). Florinda was the stage name of Virginia Andreini, whose Mantuan performance of the title role in Monteverdi’s Arianna inspired this passage in L’Adone. See Edmond Strainchamps, “The Life and Death of Caterina Martinelli: New Light on Monteverdi’s Arianna,” Early Music History 5 (1985): 170; and Tim Carter, “Lamenting Ariadne?,” Early Music 27, no. 3 (1999): 401–2.
[3] See Nino Pirrotta, “Monteverdi’s Poetic Choices,” in Music and Culture in Italy from the Middle Ages to the Baroque: A Collection of Essays (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1984), 270–316. Pirrotta’s essay was originally published as “Scelte poetiche di Monteverdi,” Nuova rivista musicale italiana 2 (1968): 10–42, 226–54. Monteverdi’s interest in Marino actually came relatively late; the poet’s popularity among madrigalists can be traced back to the last years of the previous century. See Martini, in Dizionario biografico, s.v. “Marino,” 518.
[4] Gary Tomlinson, “Music and the Claims of Text: Monteverdi, Rinuccini, and Marino,” Critical Inquiry 8, no. 3 (1982): 565–89, reprinted in Baroque Music I: Seventeenth Century, ed. Ellen Rosand (New York: Garland, 1985), 265–89, and in Tomlinson, Music and Historical Critique: Selected Essays (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 15–20. Here texts by Marino and Rinuccini are juxtaposed to show how much more inspiring Rinuccini’s expressive poetry was to Monteverdi, and how Marino’s shallowness compelled the composer to a plain musical interpretation of the poetry and eventually to new stylistic approaches uncoupled from impassioned rhetoric.
[5] Pirrotta, “Monteverdi’s Poetic Choices,” 298–309.
[6] Gary Tomlinson, Monteverdi and the End of the Renaissance (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987), 165–214 (here 165, 185–88, 192, 211).
[7] Laura Davey, “Le Due Sorelle: Music and Poetry in Monteverdi’s Settings of Marino,” The Italianist: Journal of the Departments of Italian Studies, University of Reading, University College Dublin, no. 9 (1989): 89–102. Davey argued that this development was “facilitated” and “encouraged” by Marino’s poetics but was “generated from within” the music (p. 101).
[8] Such efforts have undoubtedly benefited from the progress made in the last two decades toward a thorough understanding of the Neapolitan poet and a fairer evaluation of his contribution to early seventeenth-century literary culture. For a comprehensive study of his life and works, see Emilio Russo, Marino (Rome: Salerno, 2008).
[9] In chronological order: Robert Holzer, “ ‘Ma invan la tento et impossibil parmi’ or How guerrieri are Monteverdi’s Madrigali guerrieri?,” in The Sense of Marino: Literature, Fine Arts, and Music of the Italian Baroque, ed. Francesco Guardiani (Ottawa: Legas, 1994), 429–50; Massimo Ossi, “ ‘Excuse me, but your teeth are in my neck’: Giambattista Marino, Claudio Monteverdi, and the bacio mordace,” The Journal of Musicology 21, no. 2 (2004): 175–200; Gordon Haramaki, “ ‘In grembo a Citherea’: The Representation of ingenium and ars in Claudio Monteverdi’s Tempro la cetra,” Early Music 39, no. 4 (2011): 503–18; Mauro Calcagno, From Madrigal to Opera: Monteverdi’s Staging of the Self (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012); Massimo Ossi, “Venus in the House of Mars: Martial Imagery in Monteverdi’s Madrigali guerrieri et amorosi (1638),” Journal of Seventeenth-Century Music 18, no. 1 (2012), https://sscm-jscm.org/jscm-issues/volume-18-no-1/venus-in-the-house-of-mars-martial-imagery-in-monteverdis-madrigali-guerrieri-et-amorosi-1638/; Andrew Weaver, “Baciami, Claudio: Psychological Depth and Carnal Desire in the Marino Settings of Monteverdi’s Book Seven,” in Word, Image, and Song, vol. 1, Essays on Early Modern Italy, ed. Rebecca Cypess et al. (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2013), 167–89; Tim Carter, “Beyond Drama: Monteverdi, Marino, and the Sixth Book of Madrigals (1614),” Journal of the American Musicological Society 69, no. 1 (2016): 1–46; Roseen H. Giles, “The (un)Natural Baroque: Giambattista Marino and Monteverdi’s Late Madrigals” (PhD diss., University of Toronto, 2016), here p. 285.
[10] While Tomlinson cites mainly the “fundamental” discussion of Marino by Carlo Calcaterra (Il Parnaso in rivolta, 1961), the Anglophone world in general owes its bias against Marino as anti-Petrarchan largely to James V. Mirollo, The Poet of the Marvelous: Giambattista Marino (New York: Columbia University, Press, 1963), where Marino’s poetics is taken out of the Petrarchan context and defined as a “stylistic rather than psychological experience” (Mirollo, p. 277).
[11] For a commendable attempt to thoroughly rethink Marinism for this purpose, see Giles, “The (un)Natural Baroque,” 57–111.
[12] All textual references below follow Giovan Battista Marino, La lira, ed. Maurizio Slawinski, 3 vols. (Turin: Edizioni RES, 2007), including Slawinski’s serial numbering of the poems. Rime 1 and Rime 2 are in Slawinski, vol. 1; Lira 3 is in Slawinski, vol. 2. Marino subdivided the first and third volumes into thematic sections; the Rime amorose that open Rime 1 and the Amori that open Lira 3 make up by far the longest sections, and the only portions of those two volumes that concern us here. He gave Rime 2 the subtitle Madrigali e canzoni.
[13] Marziano Guglielminetti, in Dizionario critico della letteratura italiana, ed. Vittore Branca, 2nd ed. (Turin: Unione tipografico-editrice torinese, 1986), s.v. “Marino, G.B.,” at 3:86.
[14] See Ottavio Besomi, Ricerche intorno alla “Lira” di G.B. Marino (Padua: Antenore, 1969), 19–56, as well as the editorial introduction in Giovan Battista Marino, Rime amorose, ed. Ottavio Besomi and Alessandro Martini (Modena: Panini, 1987), 11–18.
[15] Alessandro Martini, “Marino postpetrarchista,” Versants 7 (1985): 15–36 (available online at https://www.e-periodica.ch/digbib/view?rid=ver-001:1985:7::25#26).
[16] See also Alessandro Martini, “Le nuove forme del canzoniere,” in I capricci di Proteo: Percorsi e linguaggi del barocco; Atti del convegno di Lecce, 23–26 ottobre 2000 (Rome: Salerno, 2002), 203–4. In a more recent critical effort, Martini detects a link between some canzones in Rime 2 and Lira 3: Alessandro Martini, “Le canzoni di Giovan Battista Marino: Morfologia, funzione, distribuzione,” in Studi in onore di Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo per i suoi settant’anni, ed. Allievi padovani (Florence: SISMEL edizioni del Galluzzo, 2007), 1:612–13.
[17] Russo, Marino, 128–38.
[18] Like other poets of the time, Marino retains this Petrarchan terminology for the poem that introduces a collection. “Altri canti di Marte” is labeled “Proemio del Canzoniere.” See the editorial footnote in Marino, La lira, ed. Slawinski, 1:17.
[19] See Besomi and Martini’s analytic commentary in Marino, Rime amorose, 34.
[20] See Francesca D’Alessandro, “ ‘Mentre l’un con l’altro vero accoppio’: il Petrarca di Minturno e la tradizione cristiana,” in Poesia e retorica del sacro tra cinque e seicento, ed. Erminia Ardissino and Elisabetta Selmi (Alessandria: Dell’Orso, 2009), 205–34, especially 211–15 and 223–31; and Alfred Noyer-Weidner, “Lyrische Grundform und episch-didaktischer Überbietungsanspruch in Bembos Einleitungsgedicht,” Romanische Forschungen 86 (1974), no. 3: 314–58.
[21] See Besomi and Martini’s commentary in Marino, Rime Amorose, 34.
[22] Ovid, Amores, trans. Guy Lee (New York: Viking Press, 1968): “Militat omnis amans et habet sua castra Cupido—Attice, crede mihi, militat omnis amans” (“Yes, Atticus, take it from me—lovers are all soldiers, in Cupid’s private army”), 1.9.1–2; “O nunquam pro re satis indignande Cupido, / o in corde meo desidiose puer, / quid me, qui miles numquam tua insigna reliqui, / leadis et in castris vulneor ipse meis?” (“Cupid, contempt’s far more than you deserve / for loafing about in my heart. / Why pick on me? Have I ever deserted your colours? / Why am I wounded in my own camp?”), 2.9.1–4. Note that there is even a structural pattern that ties the latter elegy to the former. Perhaps more important for present purposes is the following passage, which rehearses the idea that the beloved’s countenance is a weapon in and of itself: “Ut faciem vidi, fortes cecidere lacerti: / defensa est armis nostra puella suis” (“but when I saw her face my arms fell, / foiled by the feminine armor”), 2.5.48–49. Here I have added a word (in italics) to Lee’s translation.
[23] In this respect, it is important to note that while Marino is arguably following in the footsteps of Antonio Minturno in electing a Horatian hypotext for his proem—see Stefano Carrai, “Minturno, Marino e un modulo oraziano,” Italique 1 (1998): 97–101—he is also distancing himself from Minturno’s stance, which is centered on beauty: “Dican gli altri d’alcun figliol di Giove / … Io canto la divina, alma Beltade” (“May others tell about Jupiter’s son /… I sing of divine Beauty”). Marino instead proposes an alternative centered on a meticulous phenomenological investigation of love. The subtle competition that Marino engages in, via Horace, with Minturno, a “master of the old Neapolitan school” (Carrai, p. 98, my translation), is, I believe, a significant aspect that Carrai seems to miss and that may need to be further explored.
[24] In a famous letter to Claudio Achillini (January 16, 1620), first published as a preface to La Sampogna, Marino openly admits that some compositions in La lira—specifically the two canzones “Era ne la stagion quando ha tra noi” (Lira 3, no. 81), and “Chi vuol veder, Marcello” (Lira 3, no. 136), often referred to by Marino’s captions “Trastulli estivi” and “Amore incostante”—are modernized transpositions (“traduzioni” in Marinian terms) of Ovid. Giambattista Marino, Opere, ed. Alberto Asor Rosa (Milan: Rizzoli, 1967), letter 16, at p. 194. More generally, on Marino’s self-declared interest in the classical tradition, see also the letter signed with the “Onorato Claretti” pseudonym, which was published in 1614 with La lira; it is discussed in Emilio Russo, Studi su Tasso e Marino (Rome: Antenore, 2005), 101–84. The Ovidian influence on Marino’s Adone has already received a fair amount of critical attention; see the bibliography in Russo, Marino, 336n49. The same cannot be said for La lira, with the noteworthy exception of a recent close reading of those two canzones in Lira 3 and their Ovidian sources: Emilio Torchio, “Marino amante Ovidiano,” Studi secenteschi 41 (2000): 89–121.
[25] On this multiplication of erotic images, see Guglielminetti, in Dizionario critico della letteratura italiana, s.v. “Marino, G.B.,” at 3:88; and Vincenzo Guercio, “Sur la poésie érotique de Giovan Battista Marino,” Versants 43 (2003): 187–228.
[26] It is noteworthy that in the Amori section (Lira 3), the rhymes are actually organized around thematic nuclei: eyes, hands, separation from the beloved, dream, jealousy, and contempt (see Russo, Marino, 132), and that these nuclei are indeed “weapons of love.” Similar thematic subdivisions can be found in earlier lyric poetry; for example, see Martini’s discussion of Gaspare Murtola’s Rime (1603) (Martini, “Le nuove forme del canzoniere,” 209). Marino, however, endows this practice with unprecedented rhetorical significance, as discussed here.
[27] My position here is thus somewhat different from the general consensus today that Marino’s love poems, which lack the sweetness and licentious nature of Ovid’s erotic poetry, are meant as a moralizing elaboration of Ovid in a more somber Petrarchan direction. See Besomi and Martini’s introduction to Marino, Rime amorose, 15. At the same time, the anti-epic pose in La lira, generally attributed to its Ovidian subtext, actually comes from the concettista approach to Petrarchan form that Marino grafts onto Ovid’s erotic poetry. It derives, in horticultural terms, from the scion and not from the rootstock.
[28] My use of the word “programmatic” throughout this essay, including the chapters on Monteverdi, has nothing to do with program music. Rather, it relates to Merriam-Webster’s more general second definition: “of, relating to, resembling, or having a program”; https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/programmatic.
[29] See above, n. 24. The translations given here are by George R. Kay, ed., The Penguin Book of Italian Verse (Hammondsworth, England: Penguin Books, 1958), 221–27.
[30] The variant “al canto / de la tromba sublime” was apparently introduced by Monteverdi. Slawinski makes no mention of it in his critical apparatus for La lira, and it is found in none of the seventeenth-century editions of Lira 3 available in Google Books (those of 1616, 1646, and 1675, and one undated). For remarks on the rhetorical implications of the substitution, see Anna Maria De Chiara’s edition of Monteverdi’s Seventh Book (cited below in n. 38), p. 72.
[31] Dedicatory letter of Lira 3 to Cardinal Giovanni Doria, in Marino, La Lira, ed. Slawinski, 2:7–30, here 29.
[32] Note that the words MARINO and DORIA (in the quoted sentence) and MARE (at an earlier point in the paragraph) are in capitals in the original text by Marino, an effective use of a rather common graphic feature to call attention to some of the linkages. For a famous Petrarchan precedent, see RVF 5.
[33] See Besomi, Ricerche, 119–23; Vincenzo Guercio, “Tra Canti, Partenze e Baci,” in Rime e lettere di Battista Guarini: Atti del Convegno di studi, Padova, 5–6 dicembre 2003, ed. Bianca Maria Da Rif (Alessandria: Edizioni dell’Orso, 2008), 83n81; Francesco Guardiani, “Marino lirico: l’apertura di ‘Madriali e canzoni,’ ” Aprosiana: Rivista annuale di studi barocchi 9 (2001): 51–76, available as a pdf on this site: http://hdl.handle.net/1807/26038. “Madriali” is the spelling in Marino’s original title.
[34] On the well-known kiss-cycle (Lira 2, 13–31), see Francesco Guardiani, “Oscula mariniana,” Quaderni d’italianistica 16, no. 2 (1995): 197–243, and Vincenzo Guercio, “Sur la poésie érotique de Giovan Battista Marino,” 192–205. For a useful guide to the osculatory theme in La lira, specifically with respect to Marino’s debt to Guarini’s lyrical and pastoral poetry, see Vincenzo Guercio, “Tra Canti,” 91–101, as well as Guardiani, “Oscula mariniana.” While Marino’s kiss-cycle may often capitalize on Guarini’s Rime and Pastor Fido, his agenda is a far cry from Guarini’s sensual spirituality, which is thoroughly discussed in Federico Schneider, Pastoral Drama and Healing in Early Modern Italy (Farnham, UK: Ashgate, 2010), 89–102. Marino’s thematic and even linguistic consistency with Guarini’s paradigm serves to usher in a completely different ideological perspective. For a perfect musical application of this kind of Marinist parodic effect, see the discussion of Monteverdi’s Con che soavità, labbra adorate below.
[35] Martini uses the expression “proteiforme” with reference to Rime 2. See Martini, “Le nuove forme del canzoniere,” 212.
[36] See Francesco Guardiani, “L’idea dell’immagine nella Galleria di Marino,” in Letteratura italiana e arti figurative: Atti del XII Convegno dell’Associazione internazionale per gli studi di lingua e letteratura italiana (Toronto-Hamilton-Montreal 6–10 maggio 1985), ed. Antonio Franceschetti (Florence: Olschki, 1988), 654.
[37] It is now certain that a number of the Lira 3 poems—including the one that Marino eventually picked as its proem—were already circulating in printed form more than a decade before they were actually published in Lira 3. On this see Alessandro Martini, “ ‘Tempro la lira’: le poesie del Marino in un codice per nozze del primissimo Seicento (BNF, ital. 575),” in Marino e il Barocco da Napoli a Parigi: Atti del Convegno di Basilea, 7–9 giugno 2007, ed. Emilio Russo (Alessandria: Dell’Orso, 2014), 45–56.
[38] Paolo Fabbri, Monteverdi, trans. Tim Carter (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 159; originally published in Italian (Turin: E.D.T., 1985). The full title of Monteverdi’s volume is Concerto: Settimo libro de madrigali a 1. 2. 3. 4. & sei voci, con altri generi de canti. A facsimile of the original partbooks may be downloaded from http://imslp.org/wiki/Madrigals,_Book_7,_SV_117–145_(Monteverdi,_Claudio). For two recent critical editions see Claudio Monteverdi, Madrigali Libro VII (Venezia 1619), ed. Michelangelo Gabbrielli, in Madrigali: Opera completa, vol. 7 (Bologna: Ut Orpheus, 2008); and Claudio Monteverdi, Concerto: Settimo libro dei madrigali, ed. Anna Maria De Chiara, in Opera omnia, ser. 1, vol. 5, part 11 (Cremona: Fondazione Claudio Monteverdi, 2008). De Chiara’s edition includes a facsimile of the partbooks on pp. 87–132.
[39] Regarding musical style, see Fabbri, 158–68. From a literary point of view, the Seventh Book features noteworthy formal variety, comprising sonnet, madrigal, Anacreontic canzonetta, lament, epistolary form, and dialogue with dance. Note that formal variety is considered a defining feature of Marino’s love poetry; see Alessandro Martini, “Marino e il madrigale attorno al 1602,” in Claudio Monteverdi: Studi e prospettive: Atti del Convegno Mantova, 21–24 ottobre 1993, ed. Paola Besutti et al. (Florence: Olschki, 1998), 525–47.
[40] It contains a total of 1128 poems, according to Martini, “Marino postpetrarchista,” 25.
[41] Moreover, the 1619 edition shows that Monteverdi makes the Marino connection clear by a slight but significant rewriting of the original text: for the line of the sonnet that reads “de la tromba sublime il Ciel ti degni” (as it appears in Marino’s poem and in the basso continuo partbook), the text in the tenor partbook—i.e., what would be sung—reads “de la lira sublime.…”
[42] See Calcagno, From Madrigal to Opera, 101–87. This Petrarchan practice was incorporated into madrigal books as early as Cipriano de Rore’s first book in 1542. Massimo Ossi, “Petrarchan Discourses and Corporate Authorship in Cipriano de Rore’s ‘First Book’ of Five-Voice Madrigals (Venice, 1542–44),” in Cipriano de Rore: New Perspectives on His Life and Music, ed. Jessie Ann Owens and Katelijne Schiltz (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 2016), 153–90.
[43] In addition to Gabbrielli’s and De Chiara’s critical editions, cited above, a serviceable score may be found on ChoralWiki: ed. Peter Rottländer, last modified June 2014, http://www2.cpdl.org/wiki/images/2/21/Mont-tem.pdf.
[44] Fabbri, 160–62. For a different interpretation of Tempro la cetra, see Haramaki, “In grembo a Citherea.”
[45] On the composer’s working relationship with the court of Mantua after his departure for Venice: Ossi, “Venus in the House of Mars,” par. 1.5–1.6. On the relationship of the Duke of Mantua with Marino: Russo, Marino, 29–30. On the duke’s refined taste in musical and poetic matters: David S. Chambers, “The ‘Bellissimo Ingegno’ of Ferdinando Gonzaga (1587–1626), Cardinal and Duke of Mantua,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 50 (1987): 113–47.
[46] Recent scholarship on Monteverdi has adopted the notion of presenze to emphasize what is there rather than choices or causes.
[47] For relevant comments on Monteverdi’s Fourth and Fifth Books, see Massimo Ossi, Divining the Oracle: Monteverdi’s Seconda prattica (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), Chapter 2; on the Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Books, Calcagno, From Madrigal to Opera, 198–200, 207–211; and on the Sixth Book, Carter, “Beyond Drama.”
[48] Tomlinson, Monteverdi and the End of the Renaissance, 201, in a discussion of Armato il cor and Se vittorie sì belle from the Eighth Book.
[49] Performers can of course choose to stress such unifying features. For instance, Roberto Gini, directing the Ensemble “Concerto” and the Cappella Mauriziana, introduces an extra repeat to create the sequence love–war–love–war–love, and he minimizes the cadences in order to transition smoothly from one affect to the other. Claudio Monteverdi, Tempro la cetra, in Settimo libro de madrigali, Tactus TC 56031103/4, 1989, compact disc; also available on YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqaxuHai4Tc.
[50] In this context, Monteverdi’s exploitation of the Ovidian love-war similitude twenty years later, in the Madrigali guerrieri e amorosi (Eighth Book, 1638), also comes to mind. (See Holzer, “Ma invan la tento.”) There the composer sets yet another poem by Marino, “Altri canti di Marte e di sua schiera,” whose seminal quality in La lira was discussed above. Whether or not that choice suggests an implicit subscription to the particular poetics of La lira described here is a question for future study. It should be noted, however, that in the Eighth Book, the love-war theme appears reconfigured as the “lover-warrior” trope (see Ossi, “Venus in the House of Mars,” par. 2.3), different from the “love-war-weapons-of-love” trope under discussion here.
[51] By using the word “clustered,” I do not mean to suggest that poems with particular conceits are grouped together in Monteverdi’s book. Monteverdi had other concerns, such as number of voices, in determining the order of the madrigals.
[52] See Federico Schneider, “Pastoral Therapies for the Heartbroken in Guarini’s Pastor Fido and Monteverdi’s Book V,” Quaderni d’italianistica 29, no. 1 (2008): 92–93.
[53] It is interesting to note that, in the sonnet on the theme of love-captivity cited in Table 1 (Rime 1, 18), the suggested analogy is no longer that between the lover and the free bird (as in Questi vaghi concenti), but between the captive lover and the captive bird (as in O come sei gentile).
[54] Rime del molto illustre signor cavalliere Battista Guarini (Lipsia: Appresso Joh. Georg. Loewe, 1768), 12: “Questi ch’a voi, quasi gran fasci, invio, / donna crudel, d’aspri tormenti e fieri, / saranno i trofei vostri e’l rogo mio” (“To you I send these large bundles of harsh and dire torments, which may be your trophies and my burning stake”).
[55] Marino, Rime 1, 57: “Peregrino pensier, ch’ardito e solo / traendo ovunque vai l’anima accorta / dietro al vago desio, che ti fa scorta, / dal fondo del mio cor ti levi a volo” (“Outlandish thought, who bravely and alone leads the watchful soul astray in pursuit of desire, who is your escort, you spread your wings from the bottom of my heart”).
[56] For a discussion of Marino in the context of Monteverdi’s setting of his poem Eccomi pronta ai baci, see Ossi, “Excuse me, but your teeth are in my neck,” 182–84.
[57] Massimo Ossi, “Between Madrigale and Altro genere di canto: Elements of Ambiguity in Claudio Monteverdi’s Setting of Battista Guarini’s Con che soavità,” in Guarini: La musica, i musicisti, ed. Angelo Pompilio (Lucca: Libreria Musicale Italiana, 1997), 13–29.
[58] Transcribed from Guarini, Rime, 1768 edition; first published by Guarini in 1598. The translation is Ossi’s (“Between Madrigale,” 23); I have added one word, in italics.
[59] See Federico Schneider, Pastoral Drama and Healing in Early Modern Italy, 145–48. On the use of synesthesia in this particular madrigal, see Guercio, “Tra Canti,” 100.
[60] Marino’s debt to Guarini in La lira (which sometimes took the form of tongue-in-cheek imitation) was mentioned above (n. 34), with reference to Marino’s kiss-poems. On Marino’s parodying intent with respect to coeval poets such as Tasso, see Marco Corradini, In terra di letteratura: Poesia e poetica di Giovan Battista Marino (Lecce: Argo, 2012), 165–99.
[61] Among recommended performances readily available for downloading: soprano Nuria Rial with L’Arpeggiata, directed by Christina Pluhar, at the Festival Oude Muziek Utrecht in August 2006, in Claudio Monteverdi, Teatro d’Amore, Erato/Warner Classics 5099923614024, 2009, compact disc; also available on YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsxQrkY-xOE.
[62] For more on this, see Ossi, “Between Madrigale,” especially 27.
[63] In his edition (Monteverdi, Madrigali Libro VII, 90–91) Gabbrielli makes the unfortunate decision to follow the poet rather than the composer in the text underlay.
[64] See Ossi, “Between Madrigale,” 28, on the recurrence of upward transposition by a second in this piece.
[65] Ossi, “Between Madrigale,” 26.
[66] See, for instance, Giles, “The (Un)Natural Baroque,” Chapter 4.
[67] In this respect, further attention should be paid also to Martini’s suggestive but brief comments on Marino’s Capricci (another section of Lira 3) and more specifically on the paragone the Capricci might have established with contemporary musicians such as, for example, Giovanni Croce. On this see Alessandro Martini, “I capricci di Marino tra pittura e musica,” in Letteratura italiana e arti figurative (cited in n. 33), 658–59.