“The mountain amphitheatre / That rose around us far and near / . . . / Another ruinʼd universe”
(MS VIII; Poems [1891];
Works [1903])— Chiavenna was the first town
at which the Ruskins arrived following their eight‐hour descent from the summit of the
Splügen Pass
(
Diary of Mary Richardson, 1833, 41).
This poem represents, therefore, the extant draft likeliest to have made a start on the section named
“Italia, Italia” in
Plan for Continuation of the “Account”.
In the Plan for Continuation of the “Account”, “Italia, Italia”
closes a cluster of sections about crossing the mountains into Italy:
- “Passing the Alps”, for which the poem “Passing the Alps” is extant in MS IA, g.2;
- “Via Mala”, for which the poem “Via Mala” is extant in MS VIII;
- “Splugen”, for which the poem “Splugen” is extant in MS VIII;
- “The Summit”, for which the poem “The Summit” is extant in MS VIII;
- “The Descent”, for which the poem “The Descent” is extant in MS VIII;
- “Italia, Italia”.
Presumably,
Ruskin may have meant
“Italia, Italia” to function similarly to the poem
“Italy” in
Samuel Rogersʼs
Italy.
Rogers places
“Italy”
between two sets of poems—one set about the Italian lakes region (
“Como” and
“Bergamo”),
and the second about
Venice (beginning with
“CollʼAlto” and
“Venice”).
Ruskin departs from
Rogersʼs
sequence, not in broad contours, but in placing his poems about the Italian lakes after
“Italia, Italia”,
rather than before that greeting to
Italy. See also
Sources and Influences—Rogersʼs Poetry.
Rogers begins Italy by posing the rhetorical question,
“Am I in Italy?”, a question that the narrator excitedly pursues with “Surprise, and doubt, and self‐congratulation”.
Italy itself answers the narratorʼs mixed emotions as an oxymoron, a beautiful ruin—a place fallen into ruin
because of its beauty:
O Italy, how beautiful thou art!
Yet I could weep—for thou art lying, alas,
Low in the dust; and we admire thee now
As we admire the beautiful in death.
Thine was a dangerous gift, when thou wast born,
The gift of Beauty. Would thou hadst it not;
Or wert as once, awing the caitiffs vile
That now beset thee, making thee their slave!
Would they had loved thee less, or feared thee more!
Similarly,
Ruskin hails the warmth and exotic vegetation of
Italy, which he contrasts with the “ruinʼd universe”
of the mountainside they have left behind (see
“The Descent” and associated glosses).
In this trope,
Ruskin extends beyond
Rogersʼs historical reference
to the Sack of
Rome, however, to suggest the Evangelical emphasis on the ruin of all Creation.
Chiavenna itself answered handsomely to this trope of tempting beauty, “the mountains preserv[ing] it from the northern winds,
and render[ing] the climate very warm”, enabling the production of a wine that was “in much request”, according to
Ebel
(
Travellerʼs Guide through Switzerland, 332).
John Murray III remarks that, while
Chiavenna offered “very little . . . to interest the passing traveller”,
the town was “picturesque” and “charmingly situated close under the mountains, which appear to impend over it”,
yet lying “under an Italian sun, surrounded by hills clothed with the richest vegetation, with vines, figs, and pomegranates”
(
Hand‐book for Travellers in Switzerland, 211).
Arrival in
Chiavenna could also signal a first encounter with the classical world, as
Mariana Starke emphasizes
in an
1833 guidebook.
Discussing the
Alpine passes in the time of anicent
Rome,
Starke writes: “There were . . . two ancient roads over the
Rhaetian Alps,
which opened a communication between
Curia (the modern
Coire)
and
Milan. The one traversed
Splugen, the other
Mont Septimer,
and both met at
Clavenna, now
Chiavenna. . . .
One of these mountain‐passes led from
Coire on the
Rhine
(anciently called
Rhenus) to
Lapidaria on the same river;
and thence to
Cuneus Aureus, now denominated
Splugen.
From
Splugen the road was carried on to . . .
Clavenna,
now
Chiavenna, and
Comum, now
Como.
The last was a Greek Colony, . . . subsequently re‐colonised by
Julius Caesar
(
Travels in Europe, 297).