'The Leopard': a class insight into Italy’s bourgeois revolution

Today, Netflix has released a new series, The Leopard, based on the 1958 book of the same name by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, which follows the last days of a dying Sicilian prince in the time of Italian reunification. We publish below a review of that 1958 classic by Stan Laight. [Note: the following review contains spoilers.]

 “As bad as the Italian government may be, if there is no opportunity to overthrow it easily, I think it is better to stick to Dante’s great concept: ‘Making Italy even with the devil.’” – Giuseppe Garibaldi

The Leopard [Il Gattopardo] (1958) is cited as one of the greatest books of the 20th century. It is an account of Italian unification from the point of view of a Sicilian prince, Don Fabrizio of Salina, who is helpless to the revolutionary transformations taking place around him.

Written by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, himself a prince, it describes equally the extravagance and decay of a moribund aristocracy. It serves as a richly illustrated and profound insight into the balance of class forces during Italy’s bourgeois revolution and unification.

Lampedusa was dying when he wrote the book and his existential worries are woven throughout The Leopard. He bemoans the demise of the aristocracy from his class perspective and describes Don Fabrizio coming to terms with his own mortality.

Its most famous line is, “Se vogliamo che tutto rimanga come e', bisogna che tutto cambi.” [If we want everything to remain the same, everything must change.] In other words, ‘if the aristocracy wants to retain its wealth and privileges then it must compromise with the new bourgeoisie elements’.

Lampedusa struggled to get The Leopard published during his lifetime. But shortly after the book’s release, it was the subject of a 1963 film adaptation, deemed on par with Gone with the Wind. This year, there is also an upcoming Netflix series. But what relevance does The Leopard hold for today?

The development of Italian capitalism

Before England and the Netherlands, capitalism emerged in an immature form in the divided Italian city-states, centred around Venice, Florence, Genoa, and Milan. The ideas adopted and developed by the European bourgeoisie originated mainly from these city-states during the Renaissance.

Given its headstart in bourgeois development, one may have assumed that a new bourgeois society would emerge fully formed throughout the Italian peninsula. Yet by the 19th century, capitalist development in Italy was sluggish and, compared to Britain and France, economically backwards. How did this happen?

The rounding of the Cape and the discovery of the Americas by other European powers provided a hitherto unprecedented impetus to the expansion of trade / Image: public domain

The rounding of the Cape and the discovery of the Americas by other European powers provided a hitherto unprecedented impetus to the expansion of trade. These new trade routes and markets bypassed the Italian city-states’ domination of Mediterranean trade. The Italian city-states clung to their Mediterranean trade routes and failed to keep up with the rapidly growing colonial powers.

Alien oppression by the Austrian and Bourbon monarchs, alongside the Pope and the Catholic Church (which ruled the Papal States, stretching across central Italy), acted as a mighty fetter on society and further retarded the development of Italian capitalism, blocking any movement towards unification, and thus a modern bourgeoisie and proletariat.

Feudal absolutism assisted in sketching the outlines of nation-states by developing a national market. However, this wasn’t the case in Italy or Germany. Here, the necessary economic and social forces were too weak to carry out a bourgeois revolution in its classic form, like in England or France.

In Italy, the old aristocracy and the rising bourgeoisie were each too weak to dominate the other. Instead, they reached a compromise that Italy would be united under a parliamentary monarchy. It required Piedmont – the most economically advanced of the Italian states, which had the support of France – to expel Austria from Northern Italy in the Second Italian War of Independence in 1859 (the first war was during the revolutionary wave of 1848).

As for the south and Sicily (known as The Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, ruled by a Bourbon dynasty), the Piedmontese king had no plans to unify it with the north, partly because this would have also meant attacking the Pope’s territories. It was through a revolutionary act of military daring led by Giuseppe Garibaldi that the unification of the south and north began. This is the starting point of The Leopard.

Transitions in Sicilian society

Lampedusa’s prose describes the searing beauty of the Sicilian landscape. He often pictures it as an ancient landscape, undisturbed for centuries, excluding the gentle work of the peasantry in the arid hills and valleys. But, many changes were afoot in Sicilian society in the early 1800s.

Lampedusa’s prose describes the searing beauty of the Sicilian landscape / Image: public domain

A bourgeoisie was emerging in Sicily, the galantuomini. This new class slowly purchased portions of land from the aristocracy and seized communal lands from the peasantry. The Sicilian bourgeoisie grew powerful and were feared by even the King of Naples, who felt unable to enforce the rights to communal lands for fear of antagonising them into outright revolution.

The galantuomini desired to raise themselves to the level of aristocrats. Their class aspirations are shown by the marriage of Don Fabrizio’s nephew to the daughter of a wealthy local businessman called Don Calogero Sedera.

Don Calogero has risen from humble beginnings and acquired many acres of cheap land, which he intends to modernise. He’s portrayed with a certain crudeness and lack of refinement in contrast to the elegant Fabrizio. However, in a discussion between the two, it becomes apparent that they are almost as wealthy as one another, much to Don Fabrizio’s annoyance. From their encounters, Calogero comes to view the aristocracy as, “...sheep-like creatures, who existed merely in order to give up their wool to his shears, and their names and incomprehensible prestige to his daughter.” (Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, The Leopard, Vintage, 2007, pg 103)

Yet as Italy was uniting, the weak bourgeois could not play a completely independent role. They looked to the aristocracy to provide some form of legitimacy to their newly conquered positions in society. For example, Calogero is desperate to prove that he is of aristocratic heritage, and so researches an elusive Salina lineage that would cement his land purchases. But Fabrizio understands that the unity of their families in these times means “...the end of the Falconeri and of the Salina too.” (ibid pg 91) To be replaced with what, however, Fabrizio is unsure.

Garibaldi’s Expedition of the Thousand

After the success of the Piedmontese against Austria in Northern Italy, Giuseppe Garibaldi led 1,000 men to victory in Sicily on 11 May 1860. This expedition has bestowed a legendary status upon Garibaldi as one of history’s most skilled military leaders. In just three months he overthrew the Bourbon regime. 

After the success of the Piedmontese against Austria in Northern Italy, Giuseppe Garibaldi led 1,000 men to victory in Sicily / Image: public domain

In the opening pages of The Leopard, the news of the arrival of Garibaldi and his ‘redshirts’ (or Garibaldini) causes Don Fabrizio’s noble wife to go into a state of hysteria. They are in the middle of their religious rituals, which have probably been repeated for centuries by their ancestors. For the pious Falconeri family, Garibaldi, the ‘demonic’ revolutionary of the 1848-49 Roman Republic, appears as a sinister force out to destroy their world.

However, with the seemingly swift victory and the popularity of Garibaldi’s forces, the family can only patiently wait for their fate. They await the ransacking of their palace. But it never comes. In fact, when the Garibaldini arrive, they are cordial, polite and considerate to the Don Fabrizios. Their fears of outright overthrow subside but they remain anxious about their place in the changing society.

During one outing to Church, Don Fabrizio’s family notices fading slogans written on the houses; “Viva Garibaldi”, “Viva King Vittorio”, and “Death to the Bourbon King”! When they arrive, Fabrizio’s young nephew, Tancredi, is met by a crowd of peasants with ‘great curiosity’. Tancredi took part on the side of the Garibaldini in the Battle of Palermo and is viewed as an ‘aristocratic liberal’.

Lampedusa omits from The Leopard an episode which helps explain why the Sicilian aristocracy was not overthrown. When Garibaldi’s men landed, the peasantry rose up anticipating that the Garibaldini would support them against the hated landlords and nobles. 

Their hopes would soon be dashed. When the peasantry revolted to force their demands, they were brutally put down by Garibaldi's men. The peasantry were betrayed. Instead of a republic, what they got was the replacement of the Bourbon king for the Piedmontese king.

An Italian nation fit for a king

Later in the novel, Don Fabrizio is invited by a visiting government representative from Turin to run as a senator in the new Italian state’s upper house. He refuses. He explains that he feels incapable of participating in politics when he represents an old order. Fabrizio is acutely aware of the impending decline of his class and recognises the inevitability of change. Yet, he remains largely passive – too weak to resist the rise of the bourgeoisie at his expense.

In this scene, we can see the semi-autobiographical character of the book. Lampedusa himself was invited by the National Monarchist Party to run as an election candidate in 1948 but refused.

Fabrizio recommends Don Calogero instead, much to the reluctance of the government representative, who sees Calogero as unfit for political leadership. Even the Prince acknowledges that the revolution has given an impetus to the ideas of “Proudhon and some German Jew whose name I can't remember”, but at the same time recognises the inability of his class to halt them.

In his view, it is better to leave it to the likes of ruthless Don Calogero to stave off a revolution by the Proudhonists or Marxists. After all, the Prince had witnessed Calogero rig the local plebiscite in favour of Italian unification. He expects that this bourgeois’ cunning could handle the revolutionaries in the streets and Senate.

The aristocracy’s power partly rested on the peasantry, who lived brutally harsh lives on the vast estates. Nevertheless, Fabrizio’s faithful friend and hunting companion is a conservative peasant called Don Ciccio Tumeo. He despises the marriage of the Salina and Falconeri families and is seething when he admits to Fabrizio that he voted ‘no’ in the plebiscite but that his vote was changed to ‘yes’.

A crisis of faith

Whilst the aristocracy saw a future in the new bourgeois Italian nation, the Catholic Church recoiled in horror at the prospect. The Church in alliance with the aristocracy had kept the peasantry in a state of economic and cultural backwardness for centuries.

The Church's expropriation and overthrow was a goal of Garibaldi until he was prevented by Victor Emanuel from marching on Rome / Image: public domain

The Pope fervently opposed national unification for fear of expropriation of Church property. However, its expropriation and overthrow was a goal of Garibaldi until he was prevented by Victor Emanuel from marching on Rome.

Don Fabrizio’s religious sidekick is a Jesuit priest called Father Pirrone. This passage from Father Pirrone perfectly sums up the reason why a united bourgeois Italy scared the Church so much,

“Briefly, then, you nobles will come to an agreement with the Liberals, and yes, even with the Masons, at our expense, at the expense of the Church. Then, of course, our property, which is the patrimony of the poor, will be seized and carved up among the most brazen of their leaders; and who will then feed all the destitute sustained and guided by the Church today?” (ibid pg 28)

Under the protection of Napoleon III’s troops, the Pope in Rome resisted unification until 1870, when the troops were called away to the Franco-Prussian War. Decades prior, Marx and Engels saw the unification of Germany and Italy into nation-states as linked due to their shared connections to Austria. The result of the Franco-Prussian War was unification for both Germany and Italy, vindicating the perspective of Marx and Engels.

Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

The Leopard is remarkably accurate in how it unravels the process of Italian unification – a period of protracted transition – and its effect on the psychology of the ruling classes. Lampedusa’s ability to vividly describe them comes from, on the one hand, his own life as the last of an aristocratic Sicilian family, and on the other hand, his devouring of European literature, art, culture and his many foreign trips.

Lampedusa was born in 1896 into an aristocratic Sicilian family with a long and prestigious history. He grew up in a palace (Palazzo Lampedusa) in Palermo as a quiet, shy, single child smothered by his mother’s fussing. The Lampedusa inheritance was increasingly divided up, argued over, and squandered until there was so little left that it was barely worth claiming a portion.

Apart from a post in the Italian army during WWI and a short stint working for the Red Cross at the end of WWII, much of his life was spent travelling to visit libraries, meet wealthy friends, and attend their lavish balls. Over time, he increasingly shied away from socialising and remained aloof to important matters.

Politically, he was a conservative. When Mussolini was handed power by King Victor Emmanuel III, Lampedusa gave lukewarm support to fascism to maintain the monarchy and as a bulwark against communism. After WWII, he supported either Christian Democrats or Monarchists in elections, despite his dislike of the Catholic Church and recognition that Italy would remain a republic. 

Lampedusa’s passion for literature led him to learn several languages in order to discover more books in other languages. Literature was an obsession for him. His psychoanalyst and Latvian wife, Licy, described how he would sometimes not leave the house without a portable copy of some Shakespeare which he would read if something “displeased him”. He was unsatisfied with Italian writers and instead deeply admired literature from France and England.

Lampedusa was acutely aware that he was the last in his family line and wanted to tell the story about the decline of not just a family but an aristocratic class, destined for extinction / Image: public domain

When his cousin, Lucio Piccolo, produced some poems and was invited to a conference to read them in 1954, Lampedusa accompanied him. He had been thinking of writing his own novel for many years but only then found the impetus to begin writing. Lampedusa was acutely aware that he was the last in his family line and wanted to tell the story about the decline of not just a family but an aristocratic class, destined for extinction.

What he produced was intense in its portrayal of the Sicilian landscape and households. The book is punctuated with clear and sharp political and historical points, as he neatly weaves them into everyday conversations. He used his great-grandfather, Giulio di Lampedusa, as the inspiration for the character Prince of Salina, Don Fabrizio. 

After two years of writing, his attempts to find a publisher throughout 1956-57 came to nothing. In those years, it was clear to him and his friends that he was very ill, although only 60 years old. On 23 July, he died in his sleep. His friend, Gioacchino, explained, “The Leopard was a preparation for a good death… a reconciliation between life and death.” (D Gilmour, The Last Leopard, Quartet Books, 1988 pg 154)

Process of change

The overarching theme of the book is the process of change. The Prince and Father Pirrone grumble that their authority has fallen from outright control to being mere advisors. But they were lucky not to have been overthrown outright.

As for the sons of aristocrats and petit-bourgeois who had fought in the Garibaldini, they either totted up their fortunes or joined the Piedmontese forces. When Tancredi and Count Cavriaghi appear before Don Fabrizio wearing the dazzling uniforms of the Piedmontese army, he jokes, “But don’t you Garibaldini wear red shirts any longer?”, to which Tancredi scoffs, “Garibaldini, Garibaldini indeed Uncle! [...] We couldn’t stand that rabble long…” (Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, The Leopard, Vintage, 2007, pg 113) Indeed, Tancredi goes on to serve as a politician in the new Italian parliament, operating more and more in line with the bourgeoisie.

Marxists are accused of disliking The Leopard because it depicts Don Fabrizio in a favourable light – as a flawed prince who stoically and pragmatically allows change to happen. In reality, the likes of Don Fabrizio played a reactionary and counter-revolutionary role where they could in order to preserve their wealth and privileges.

To expect an Italian prince to write a scathing Marxist analysis of his own class would be folly. Art and culture reflect the society in which they are created. The dominant ideas of society are the ideas of the ruling class and can be easily found in books, films, artworks, and theatre.

However, in spite of his own reactionary leanings, Lampedusa faithfully and finely depicts the decline of the aristocracy and the rise of the bourgeoisie.