Irving- Washington-RIP-VAN- Winkle PDF

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Appunti presi in classe della omonima storia di Washington Irving....

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RIP VAN WINKLE It was written by Washington Irving and published in 1819. It was written while Irvin was living in Burningham (England). For the second time there is a connection between an American author and Europe (like in “Wakefield”). It is important the relationship between the old continent and the new continent. It is part of a collection entitled “The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon”. Although the story is set in New York's Catskill Mountains, the author later admitted: "When I wrote the story, I had never been there". The protagonist is a Dutch-American villager living around the time of the American Revolutionary War. This war, also known as the war of Independence took place between 1775 and 1783. It was an armed conflict between Great Britain and the thirteen of its North American colonies, which later declared its independence as the United States of America. Washington Irving was born in 1783 and was an American short story writer, essayist, biographer, historian. He is best known also for another story "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" (1820), both the stories appear in his book The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon. Irving, along with Cooper, was among the first American writers to earn acclaim in Europe, and Irving encouraged American authors such as Hawthorne, Melville and Edgar Allan Poe (relationship between authors). He originally opposed the war of 1812 (it was a military conflict that lasted from June 1812 until February 1815 fought between the United States of America and the United Kingdom). He enrolled for the war but the war was disastrous for many American families and so in mid-1815 he left for England to attempt to save the family trading company. Originally he wanted to move for a short period of time and he ended up to stay in Europe for the next seventeen years. In the spring of 1819, Irving sent to his brother in New York a set of short prose pieces that are the collection that we are reading. It was issued in 1819–1820 in seven installments in New York, and in two volumes in London. We have one of the first American writers to be successful both in America and in London. Like many successful authors of this era, Irving struggled against literary bootleggers (contrabbandieri). In fact, in England, some of his sketches and stories were reprinted in periodicals without his permission, a legal practice as there was no international copyright law at the time. He moved to Europe just for economic problems and then he had an extreme success. He wrote this short stories set in New York but he wrote it while he was in Europe. It was extremely successful in the whole continent and in America.

SUMMARY Rip Van Winkle is a good-natured but unassertive descendant of the Dutch settlers who assisted Peter Stuyvesant in his military exploits. Every small community has someone like Rip: the entertainer of local children, the willing helper of his neighbor, the desultory fisherman—but a man constitutionally unable to work on his own behalf. Rip’s farm falls into ruin, his children run ragged, and his wife’s bad temper mounts. He takes refuge from Dame Van Winkle in protracted discussions at the village inn, all-day fishing expeditions, and rambles in the mountains with his dog Wolf. It is on one of these occasions that he encounters a company of antique Dutchmen who are playing at ninepins in a natural amphitheater high in the Catskills. Offered liquid refreshment, Rip drinks himself to sleep, from which he awakens the next morning, as he supposes, to find everything inexplicably changed: his dog gone, a worm-eaten gun in place of the one he had brought, no trace of the bowlers or of their bowling alley. Descending to the town, he finds his old dog strangely hostile, his house abandoned, and even the village inn replaced by a large new hotel. The first person Rip actually recognizes is his daughter, now a young wife and mother; she kindly takes the perplexed old man home to live with her family. He learns of the death of many of his old friends and of his wife, for whose demise he feels nothing but relief. When he sees his son Rip slouching against a tree, looking much as he himself did “yesterday”—actually twenty years ago— he briefly doubts his own identity.

The larger changes in society are yet more profound. Rip went to sleep a subject of George III and has awakened a citizen of the United States of America under the leadership of George Washington. Although Rip soon falls into his old loitering ways, justified now by his white beard and the absence of matrimonial demands, it takes him some time to absorb the Revolution that has run its full course while he slept. The town has learned to accommodate the new republic, and all the changes lend charm to Rip’s fresh recollections of the old order. Rip tells and retells his story, which is accepted most readily by the older Dutch villagers, who have kept alive a legend that Hendrick Hudson’s men keep a vigil in the nearby mountains and play at ninepins there regularly in the afternoon. Rip prefers the company of the young, however, not so much to be in touch with the new as to preserve the old in a relentlessly changing world.

We have this INCIPIT:

Rip Van Winkle, a Posthumous Writing of Diedrich kerbocker By Woden, God of Saxons, From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday, Truth is a thing that ever I will keep Unto thylke day in which I creep into My sepulchre——

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CARTWRIGHT. From this piece we read an invocation to the God of Saxons (the Saxons were a Germanic tribe living in what is today Denmark, Germany and the north coast of the Netherlands, in late Roman times). Thylke is a Saxon word that means “that same day”. Cartwright is the author that wrote this epitope/incipit.

[The following Tale was found among the papers of the late Diedrich Knickerbocker, an old gentleman of New York, who was very curious in the Dutch (adjective for Holland, because the Saxon also set in the northern cost of the Netherlands and Holland is part of it) history of the province, and the manners of the descendants from its primitive settlers (colonizzatori). His historical researches, however, did not lie (giacere, trovarsi) so much among books as among men; for the former (i primi) are lamentably scanty (scarso) on his favorite topics; whereas he found the old burghers (cittadini, abitanti), and still more their wives, rich in that legendary lore (conoscenza della tradizione), so invaluable (inestimabile) to true history (legame con l’incipit, si interpreta che lui non dirà a nessuno la verità, se la porta nella tomba). Whenever (ogni qual volta), therefore (dunque), he happened upon a genuine Dutch family, snugly (comodamente) shut up (accolta) in its low-roofed farmhouse, under a spreading (maestoso) sycamore (sicamoro, albero), he looked upon it as a little clasped (giunto) volume of black-letter, and studied it with the zeal of a book-worm (topo da biblioteca). The result of all these researches was a history of the province during the reign of the Dutch governors, which he published some years since. There have been various opinions as to the literary character of his

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work, and, to tell the truth, it is not a whit (niente affatto) better than it should be. Its chief (più importante) merit is its scrupulous accuracy, which indeed was a little questioned on its first appearance, but has since been completely established (riconosciuto); and it is now admitted into all historical collections, as a book of unquestionable authority. The old gentleman died shortly after the publication of his work, and now that he is dead and gone, it cannot do much harm (danneggiare) to his memory to say that his time might have been better employed in weightier labors. He, however, was apt (adatto) to ride his hobby his own way; and though it did now and then kick up the dust a little in the eyes (creato scompiglio, come lanciare polvere negli occhi) of his neighbors, and grieve (far rattristire) the spirit of some friends, for whom he felt the truest deference (rispetto) and affection; yet his errors and follies are remembered “more in sorrow than in anger,” and it begins to be suspected, that he never intended to injure or offend. But however (a prescindere) his memory may be appreciated by critics, it is still held dear (è tenuta/valutata come preziosa) by many folks, whose good opinion is well worth having; particularly by certain biscuitbakers (produttori di biscotti, pasticcieri), who have gone so far as to imprint his likeness on their new-year cakes; and have thus given him a chance for immortality, almost equal to the being stamped on a Waterloo Medal, or a Queen Anne’s Farthing (moneta della regina).] (IRONY, like your portrait is on the new-year biscuits cake and not on the farthing) WHOEVER has made a voyage up the Hudson (fiume importante) must 3 remember the Kaatskill mountains (he admitted that he never saw this mountain. He is telling us the truth but he never saw it, he wrote the story while he was in Europe, he might have learned about the mountains in book because he makes a description but never see it.). They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family (catena montuosa), and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to (innalzandosi) a noble (maestosa, nobile, considerevole) height, and lording it (padroneggiano) over the surrounding (sottostante) country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day, produces some change in the magical hues (sfumature, avvallamenti) and shapes of these mountains, and they are regarded by all the good wives (it is the second time where he quotes the wives, also at the beginning. Wakefield one of the protagonist was the wife. We will see that this is a hint about what will happen in the story, for instance Wakefield is a henpecked husband. The role of the wife), far and near, as perfect barometers. When the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear evening sky, but, sometimes, when the rest of the landscape is cloudless, they will gather (si circondano) a hood of gray vapors about their summits (cime), which, in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow (brilleranno) and light up like a crown of

glory. At the foot of these fairy mountains, the voyager may have descried (può notare) the light smoke curling up from a village (un ricciolo di leggero fumo), 4 whose shingle-roofs gleam (bagliore) among the trees, just where the blue tints of the upland melt away into the fresh green of the nearer landscape. It is a little village of great antiquity, having been founded by some of the Dutch colonists (fissazione con le colonie perchè la Guerra di indipendenza combattuta nel 1776, essi hanno fatto questa Guerra per liberarsi contro la madre patria, i primi autori dei grandi classici americani potevano parlare solo di quello, in realtà la loro storia era nata nel 1700, attingevano alla storia europea), in the early times of the province, just about the beginning of the government of the good Peter Stuyvesant, (may he rest in peace!) and there were some of the houses of the original settlers standing within a few years, built of small yellow bricks brought from Holland, having latticed windows and gable fronts (frontoni), surmounted with weather-cocks (galli). In that same village, and in one of these very houses (which, to tell the precise truth, was sadly time-worn (consumato) and weather-beaten), there lived many 5 years since, while the country was yet a province of Great Britain, a simple good-natured fellow (un semplice buon uomo) of the name of Rip Van Winkle. He was a descendant of the Van Winkles (nome che suona germanico, sassone e soprattutto olandese) who figured so gallantly in the chivalrous days of Peter Stuyvesant, and accompanied him to the siege (assedio) of Fort Christina. He inherited, however, but (tranne, esempio everything but you: tutti tranne te) little of the martial (combattivo) character of his ancestors. I have observed that he was a simple good-natured man; he was, moreover (in più, oltre a ciò), a kind neighbor, and an obedient hen-pecked (scocciato, succube, sottomesso) husband. Indeed, to the latter circumstance might be owing (possedere) that meekness (debolezza, mitezza) of spirit which gained (ottenere) him such universal popularity; for those men are most apt to (adatti a) be obsequious and conciliating abroad, who are under the discipline of shrews (topi) at home. Their tempers, doubtless, are rendered pliant (docile, malleabili) and malleable in the fiery furnace of domestic tribulation; and a curtain lecture (predica) is worth all the sermons in the world for teaching the virtues of patience and long-suffering. A termagant (che rimprovera) wife may, therefore, in some respects, be considered a tolerable blessing; and if so, Rip Van Winkle was thrice blessed. Certain it is, that he was a great favorite among all the good wives of the 6 village, who, as usual, with the amiable sex, took his part in all family squabbles (battibecchi); and never failed, whenever they talked those matters over in their evening gossipings, to lay all the blame on Dame Van Winkle. The children of the village, too, would shout with joy whenever he approached. He assisted at their sports, made their playthings (gli costruiva dei giocattoli), taught them to fly kites (aquiloni) and shoot marbles (pigne), and told them long stories of ghosts, witches, and Indians (light criticism, native Americans compared with witches and ghosts). Whenever he went dodging

(gironzolando) about the village, he was surrounded by a troop (massa) of them, hanging on his skirts (ai suoi vestiti), clambering (arrampicandosi) on his back, and playing a thousand tricks on him with impunity; and not a dog would bark (gli abbaiava) at him throughout the neighborhood. The great error in Rip’s composition was an insuperable aversion to all kinds of profitable labor (lavoro redditizio). It could not be from the want of assiduity or perseverance; for (perchè) he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod (canna da pesca) as long and heavy as a Tartar’s lance (Lancia dei tartari), and fish all day without a murmur(mormorio), even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble (esca). He would carry a fowling-piece (fucile) on his shoulder for hours together, trudging (arrancando) through woods and swamps (paludi), and up hill and down dale, to shoot a few squirrels (scoiattoli) or wild pigeons (piccioni). He would never refuse to assist a neighbor even in the roughest toil (nei lavori più duri), and was a foremost (il migliore) man at all country frolics (in tutte le fiere di paese) for husking (arrostire) Indian corn (pannocchie), or building stone-fences (recinzioni in pietra); the women of the village, too, used to employ him to run their errands, and to do such little odd jobs as their less obliging (meno ossequiosi) husbands would not do for them. In a word Rip was ready to attend (seguire) to anybody’s business but (tranne) his own; but as to doing family duty, and keeping his farm in order, he found it impossible. In fact, he declared it was of no use (era inutile) to work on his farm; it was the most pestilent little piece of ground in the whole country; every thing about it went wrong, and would go wrong, in spite of him (suo malgrado). His fences (recinzioni) were continually falling to pieces; his cow would either go astray (si sarebbe smarrita), or get among the cabbages (cavolo); weeds were sure to grow quicker in his fields than anywhere else; the rain always made a point of setting in just as he had some out-door work to do; so that though his patrimonial estate had dwindled away (consumata) under his management, acre by acre, until there was little more left than a mere patch (chiazza) of Indian corn and potatoes, yet it was the worst conditioned farm in the neighborhood. His children, too, were as ragged and wild as if they belonged to nobody. His son Rip, an urchin (monello) begotten in his own likeness (come suo padre), promised to inherit the habits, with the old clothes of his father. He was generally seen trooping (attaccava) like a colt (puledro) at his mother’s heels, equipped in a pair of his father’s cast-off galligaskins, which he had much ado to hold up with one hand, as a fine lady does her train in bad weather. Rip Van Winkle, however, was one of those happy mortals, of foolish, welloiled dispositions, who take the world easy (in maniera leggera), eat white bread or brown, whichever can be got with least thought or trouble, and would rather starve on a penny than work for a pound. If left to himself, he would have whistled life away in perfect contentment (soddisfazione); but his wife kept continually dinning in his ears about his idleness (disoccupazione), his carelessness, and the ruin he was bringing on his family. Morning, noon, and

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night, her tongue was incessantly going, and everything he said or did was sure to produce a torrent of household (famiglia) eloquence. Rip had but one way of replying to all lectures of the kind, and that, by frequent use, had grown into a habit. He shrugged (alzava) his shoulders, shook (scuoteva) his head, cast up (alzava) his eyes, but said nothing. This, however, always provoked a fresh volley (volata) from his wife; so that he was fain to draw off his forces, and take to the outside of the house—the only side which, in truth, belongs to a hen-pecked husband. Rip’s sole domestic adherent (aderente) was his dog Wolf, who was as much hen-pecked as his master; for Dame Van Winkle regarded them as companions in idleness, and even looked upon Wolf with an evil eye, as the cause of his master’s going so often astray (smarrito). True it is, in all points of spirit befitting an honorable dog, he was as courageous an animal as ever scoured (setacciato) the woods—but what courage can withstand (contrastare) the everduring and all-besetting terrors of a woman’s tongue? The moment Wolf entered the house his crest fell, his tail (coda) drooped to the ground, or curled between his legs, he sneaked about (strisciava) with a gallows (patibolo) air, casting many a sidelong glance (gettando molti sguardi di traverso) at Dame Van Winkle, and at the least flourish (fiorire) of a broom-stick (manico di scopa) or ladle (mestolo), he would fly to the door with yelping (guainante) precipitation. Times grew worse and worse with Rip Van Winkle as years of matrimony rolled on; a tart (acido) temper never mellows (addolcisce) with age, and a sharp (affilata) tongue is the only edged tool (strumento) that grows keener with constant use. For a long while he used to console himself, when driven from home, by frequenting a kind of perpetual club of the sages, philosophers, and other idle personages of the village; which held its sessions on a bench before a small inn (locanda), designated by a rubicund portrait of His Majesty George the Third. Here they used to sit in the shade through a long lazy summer’s day, talking listlessly (senz’ordine) over village gossip, or telling endless sleepy stories about nothing. But it would have been worth any statesman’s money to have heard the profound discussions that sometimes took place, when by chance an old newspaper fell into their hands from some passing traveller. How solemnly they would listen to the contents, as drawled out (strascicata fuori) by Derrick Van Bummel, the schoolmaster, a dapper learned little man, who was not to be daunted by the most gigantic word in the dictionary; and how sagely they would deliberate upon public events some months after they had taken place. The opinions of this junto (gruppo) were completely controlled by Nicholas Vedder, a patriarch of the village, and landlord (proprietario) of the inn (locanda), at the door of which he took his seat from morning till night, just moving sufficiently to avoid the sun and keep in the shade of a large tree; so that the neighbors could tell the hour by his movements as accurately as by a sundial (meridiana). It is true he was rarely heard to speak, but smoked his pipe incessantly. His adherents (discepoli), however (for every great man has h...