Justice is the cornerstone around which much of Alessandro Manzoni's work revolves. In "The Betrothed," reflection on this theme takes on particular importance, as demonstrated by the troubled intellectual journey from the first draft of "Fermo and Lucia" to "The Story of the Column of Infamy." Two works that were born together, then diverged, only to converge again in the final draft of "The Betrothed."
It is the corruption of men that overturns the laws and renders justice impotent. In "The Column of Infamy," the condemnation is without appeal. But in the novel, this denunciation is embodied in the characters and goes beyond: justice, for Renzo and Lucia, is not an abstract or otherworldly ideal, but a matter on which daily happiness depends.
Laws are the offspring of an unjust society; judges may be cowardly and corrupt, yet justice can be practiced. By resorting to mercy and faith, as Cardinal Borromeo says first to the Unnamed and then to Don Abbondio. Or by seeking a different relationship with the world and with others. Don Rodrigo and the Unnamed, for example, are united by their class privileges, but divided by a different outlook on life, which will make one irredeemable and the other restless, ready to change.
The plague arrives as a blind punishment, striking down the innocent and the guilty alike. But it is men, with their ignorance and superstition, who make it senseless and even more cruel. The plague is a disease, but the "plague spreaders" are a human invention. After all, centuries later, didn't we also have our own "hunt for the plague spreaders" during the COVID pandemic?
The "column of infamy" was a real column, not just a symbolic one. A monument erected on the ruins of the house of the imaginary plague spreader described by Manzoni. The column was torn down a century later, when it became clear that the infamy lay with the judges. But was it right to tear it down? Is it right to tear down monuments that remind us of the infamies of men? A question many ask today.
Just as we question the function of prison and punishment.
The use of torture to establish the guilt or innocence of an accused was standard practice at the time of "The Betrothed." In "The Column of Infamy," which, not coincidentally, was conceived as a part (and then an appendix) of the novel, Manzoni exposes all its ferocious irrationality.
Today, what does it mean for us to think about "crimes and punishments"? It means proceeding along the path indicated by our Constitution, in Article 27. An article that tells us much about what has happened and what still lies ahead. Speaker
Maria Rosa Cutrufelli was a member of the editorial staff of the feminist magazine "Noi Donne" and taught Creative Writing at La Sapienza University of Rome for several years. She has also edited short story anthologies, contributed to magazines and newspapers, and written radio plays, travel books, and essays. Her many novels, in addition to the masterpiece La briganta (1990), include La donna che visse per un sogno (2004) and L’isola delle madri (2020).