364 Italian Bookshelf - Ibiblio

“Italian Bookshelf” Annali d’ italianistica 24 (2006) 367
wholesale the newer artistic currents found in metropolitan courtly and ecclesiastical
settings” (19).
The Rufolo family was not only successful in trade; its members also exercised
important positions in the Kingdom of Sicily. High public office could foster immense
personal wealth. The fortunes of the Rufolo family and, symbolically, those of the art and
patronage of the region culminated in the arrest, in 1283, for corruption of Lorenzo and
Matteo Rufolo by crown prince Charles of Salerno. The Rufolo family’s lavish
residential complex above Amalfi would appear to have been the target of princely ire.
The author traces the assembly of architectural components on the hillside estate, less the
product of a master plan and single artistic conception than an accumulation, first, of land
parcels and, then, of artistically and functionally distinct units. More than a threat to the
aristocracy of an upstart merchant class was in play here, since financial gain and a
money economy were morally questionable, as was the ostentation of a dynastic building
program. The incorporation of Islamic motifs into Amalfitan art would have done nothing
to lessen such censure. Caskey shows how the Rufolo family appropriated what had
theretofore been discrete religious space by commissioning striking chapels, pulpits,
ciboria, and statuary. The author calls attention to the distinctive bath culture of the
southwest, with its clearly extra-Christian origins. The use of heraldic motifs — an
import from the north — further illustrates the range of sources for and influences on
Amalfitan art, which nonetheless retained a strong local stamp. Of particular interest in
these early examples of conspicuous consumption in an environment that had few outlets
for the exercise of wealth is Rufolo’s self-representation and eclecticism as evidenced in
the use of inscriptions and of mosaic and stucco as media. The latter allowed for quite
different relations of space and mass than did stone.
Caskey’s study has as chief heuristic instrument the conception of mercatantia,
despite the admitted scarcity of documentation for Amalfitan trade. The heyday of this
“dominant cultural force” was from 1100 to 1250. The insistence on this term invites a
hard look from a socio-linguistic point of view. Boccaccio’s characterization of the
Amalfitans as masters of mercatantia dates from 1351. If we take the period just before
the arrest of the Rufolos in 1283 as the apogee of regional fortunes, we should look for
evidence of the concept of mercatantia over the decades of their rise to wealth and
influence. It is then sobering to discover that the word is first attested from 1264 and
occurs only eighteen times before 1300 (according to Opera del vocabolario italiano),
and this in nine works from north central Italy (Florence, Pisa). Its vogue was in the
following century, with more than 650 subsequent occurrences. This finding does not
invalidate the conclusions of Caskey’s exemplary treatment of the art historical evidence,
or her claim that “the art of mercatantia helps uncover the thematic or ideological
coherence of a group of monuments that might seem unrelated on the basis of style
alone” (240), but does leave us less assured of the Rufolos’ conception of self and of the
center of gravity of their multiple activities, incomes and expenses.
William Sayers, Cornell University
Luigi Surdich. Il Duecento e il Trecento. Bologna: Il Mulino, 2005. Pp. 182.
Luigi Surdich is primarily known for his two excellent books on Boccaccio (La cornice
di amore, ETS, 1987 and Boccaccio, Laterza, 2001). His Il Duecento e il Trecento has ten
chapters, a short bibliography (169-72), a chronology, and an index. This book forms part