The Horn and The Fig, Neapolitian Gestures

Part of the pleasure of doing research for a new novel is discovering little gems of social history, such as this terrific work of the mid 19th century, "Gestural Expression of the Ancients in the light of Neapolitan Gesturing" by Andrea de Jorio. De Jorio, a cleric and a Canon of the Cathedral of Naples, was also an accomplished archaeologist and curator at the Royal Museum in Naples. In his work as an archaeologist, he discerned a close relationship between the gestures of the ordinary Neapolitans and the gestures of figures in ancient frescos and carvings. De Jorio believed that his countrymen had preserved these ancient traditions in their contemporary gestures, and that a studied examination of modern Neapolitan gestures would be useful in offering new layers of  meaning in ancient art.

As I am working on a 16th century picaresque novel that has my protagonist traveling from Tuscany down to Naples, this is just the sort of text I love coming across to salt and pepper the narrative with those little details that can make a story more delectible. (When I start writing about Italianate stories, I immediately revert into food metaphors!)

I am using a recent translation (with an introduction and notes) by Adam Kendon, (Indiana University Press, 2002) that is wonderful, with de Jorio's collection of images and drawings to accompany it. It's also wonderful that de Jorio's style of writing is so lively and robust -- while clearly academic in purpose, he wanted to write a text that was appealing to all kinds of readers. It's charming and witty, full of jokes, and personal anecdotes alongside scientific study. And who knew there could be so many ways to use the horn gesture to express everything from a declaration of infidelity, a method of cursing, a symbol of power, or pride, or moral virtue, and when moved around in the air in certain ways, a way to repel evil charms?