‘Il duello’ was first published in 1780 and is a fictionalised account of a real-life duel the legendary Casanova got himself into over a ballerina. There’s also a second account of the events in his ‘History of My Life.’ Both versions appear in the 2003 Hesperus edition of ‘The Duel.’

Casanova attends a play with the Polish king and visits a ballerina backstage. When a powerful courtier turns up at her dressing room, Casanova immediately tries to leave, but his rival insults him. Later, discussing the incident with a royal friend, he is advised to do nothing or much. Rejecting nothing, Casanova decides on much - a duel. He writes a letter to the Pole who has insulted him, and receives a swift reply. The Pole accepts, wants Casanova to choose his weapons, but is suspicious as to why the duel should take place the next day and turns up at Casanova’s address to arrange something a little sooner.

In fact, the ballerina, the original reason for the duel is quickly dismissed from the plot, because what follows is a matter of honour between gentlemen and the need to remove a stain from one’s character. What is so utterly bizarre to the modern reader is the way two men who are about to shoot at one another can arrange the thing with such attention to politeness and codes of conduct, even going so far to embrace and declare their mutual admiration and respect.

Throughout ‘The Duel’ Casanova refers to himself as the Venetian and in the third person. Only in his memoirs does he make the action more personal. The Pole, obviously thinking that Venetians are a devious lot (another slur on Casanova) wants a duel that day, in order to prevent his challenger from running away. He also wants the Venetian to change his choice of weapon - swords - because he suspects the Venetian may be an expert swordsman and therefore have an advantage. They decide on pistols instead, and arrange to meet up some hours later, out of the jurisdiction of the authorities since duelling is illegal on punishment of death.

There’s no doubt that Giacomo Casanova had a gift for writing. Both in the memoir version of the duel and ‘The Duel’ itself, he writes in fluid prose, with a sense of humour. He draws his characters well, and shows the irony of the whole affair, including the thing that will decide the outcome of the duel: that one of them has eaten a meal and the other hasn’t, and that this twist is tied into the religious differences between them.

The consequences of the duel are followed up, but in the end, the Venetian leaves, only to learn later that his fortunes in Poland have taken a turn for the worst. The eighteenth century equivalent of the tabloid press have been busy blackening his name, accusing him of all sorts of crimes and misdemeanours. On his return, he finds he no longer has the ear of the King, and is forced to leave, wandering Europe again.

In amongst the plot of the duel, Casanova manages to include some humorous asides. It’s clear he has a somewhat cynical view of royalty and other forms of authority. He wears a medal he received from the Pope. It is “an ornament, a respectable decoration which impresses fools, and so it is necessary, since the world is full of fools, and they are all inclined to evil; therefore, when a beautiful Order of Knighthood can calm them down and make them ecstatic, confused, and respectful, it is well to flaunt it.” Later he sells it for money, disgusted with the medal, having seen a number of charlatans with the same decoration.

He also turns his sardonic wit on royal etiquette. If a monarch doesn’t acknowledge someone with a question, people will assume the individual has been snubbed, even if it isn’t the case. However, such questions must be innocuous or too much might be read into them. The recipient must appear to understand the question, since monarchs cannot be made to look stupid or inarticulate. There’s also advice for anyone wishing to make their fortune at the Russian court.

But while Casanova sees royalty for what it is, he’s not above courting it to get what he wants. He’s a man constantly on the make. ‘The Duel’ does not see Casanova leaping in and out of women’s beds. In fact, the Venetian appears to be taking some kind of medicine for an unnamed “affliction.” Whether this affliction is getting in the way of more amorous adventures isn’t clear. What is clear is that neither Casanova nor the Pole are really interested in the ballerina who was the cause of the whole dispute. It’s the peculiar customs around the duel that interest them more, and the relationship of duelling with the culture of the upper classes. The Pole tells the Venetian at one point that “a duel is a mere bagatelle.” In fact it was a complicated ritual that ended lives needlessly and ‘The Duel’ exposes the more ridiculous elements of male pride and class honour.

Kara Kellar Bell is a film and media graduate from the West of Scotland, with a passion for European novels, French films, silent cinema, and Brazilian music (everything from Daniela Mercury and other pop stars through to bossa nova). As a writer, she likes to have room to move around creatively, so she’s not located in one genre. She writes realism and also stories of a more fantastic nature, usually grounded to some extent in the real world. She also takes delight in writing across the sexual spectrum, and as a bisexual, considers it important to remind people that things are not always black and white, either/or, in sexuality or in gender. For a selection of Kara’s writing on the Showcase section of this site, click here

© 2005 Laura Hird All rights reserved.