The Venetian Company

Pedantic Matters and My Childhood

      The fact that we were a colony of Venice and had ties to the house of Zorzi surely gave rise to the imperative that I study Italian, which I did from the age of eight with my sister Diana, the two of us sitting at the wooden table for an hour a day with the taciturn priest Tremolo.  The priest punctuated his lectures with frequent whacks with a sprig on my young shoulders.  Although we could not give Diana the education which some great ladies of earlier times might have enjoyed, the fact that my father was determined to include her in most of my curriculum is evident from his remark I overheard, also at the age of eight, when my mother asked in connection with the Italian lessons what he was expecting to happen to Diana.  For example, was he thinking of finding her a Venetian to marry?  He replied, "In these dangerous times, we must play all the cards."  Meaning: son will study, and daughter will also study.

     An even better demonstration of my father's policy not to mention family theatrics came two years later when my father was escorting an unknown Italian business associate in to lunch.  The two men passed Diana and I sitting on the balcony, in this case preparing for our hour of classical Greek, as they were walking towards the large dining room.

     My father was bringing the man out to show how studious we were — which of course we hated — and the visitor said in Italian, "You aren't afraid she'll lose her modesty and proper bearing?"  No doubt referring to the dangers of educating females.

     Unfortunately we both heard this.  My father said something bland in reply, I don't remember what, but Diana immediately jumped-up, nodded politely, and said in Italian, "Father, I was just reviewing some authors I was directed to summarize.  Perhaps you'd permit me to speak from my notes?"

     My father responded, "Nothing would please us more, my girl.  Go ahead."  The entire family has a gift for improvisation.

     "As we have been taught — "

    I knew this was going to be good.

     " — over the past 500 years many women of New Rome, while loyal to the true faith and their family duties, have also been active in literature, scholarship, and political affairs.  The niece of the Emperor Basil II[1], Theodora[2], was the sole ruler for a period at the end of her long life.  Anna Comnena[3] wrote of her life and that of her father, the Emperor Alexius I.  Theodora Raoulaina[4] wrote lives of the saints and letters.  Eirene Asenina Cantacuzene[5] ruled the city of Didymoteichon for some years. Eirine-Eulogia Choumnaina[6] left us her letters — though I hear they have some grammatical mistakes.  Mara the Sultanina[7] — poor thing, she had to marry the sultan — was active in the selection of several patriarchs of Constantinople, but some people said she was just a busybody — "

     About this time I looked up with an innocent expression, Oh, is sister saying something?

     "That's very good Diana.  Oh, my dear signore, I think the meal is served."  Interrupted our father.  "Let us proceed."

     The signore had turned crimson and appeared tempted to vociferate about females losing sight of their proper place, which I have found to be a frequent reaction to my sister — at least among men.  As my father deftly guided the fellow away by the elbow, Diana concluded, just loud enough for the guest to hear:  "And of course the legal code of Justinian stipulates that women can inherit."  I thought the last was a little off-topic, but was laughing so hard I had to stuff my sleeve into my mouth.

     "And you shut-up," She added.

      But I get ahead of my narrative.  When I was nine there came the additional decree that I would study Turkish, but for some reason Diana was spared that trial.  I tried to put up a bold front and refuse to comply, but without success. It may be worthwhile to say a few words about the start of the Turkish lessons, since the scene again illuminates some of my father's thinking.