Stories By English Authors: Italy (Selected by Scribners) — Inside the Classic

Recurring Images of Travel and Arrival

Several stories open with a journey or a description of arrival. In 'A Faithful Retainer,' the narrator's childhood home is contrasted with the Luscombe Court, which he reaches on foot from the vicarage. The Brigand's Bride begins with the narrator taking a seat in the Foggia diligence, a mode of transport that signals his entry into a more dangerous world. The air-gun he carries becomes a prop for social interaction, as he uses it to attract attention in small Neapolitan towns. This motif of travel—whether by carriage, on foot, or by ship—serves as a structural device that moves characters from familiar English settings into Italian spaces, where the rules of behaviour shift.

The English Gaze on Italian Life

The narrators in these stories are often English outsiders who observe Italian customs with a mixture of curiosity and condescension. In 'The Brigand's Bride,' the narrator notes that he could never make himself look like a Neapolitan, and his air-gun prompts locals to ask if it is an umbrella or a fishing-rod. This moment of cultural misunderstanding is typical of the collection's treatment of Italy as a place of picturesque difference. The stories by W. E. Norris and Anthony Trollope, though not fully excerpted here, likely continue this pattern of English characters navigating Italian social codes. The recurring image of the English traveller as a detached observer ties the stories together, even as their plots diverge.

Shifts Between Domestic and Dramatic Settings

The collection juxtaposes quiet domestic interiors with dramatic outdoor scenes. Payn's story lingers on the Luscombe estate—the hall, the gallery, the terrace with peacocks—before moving to more intimate moments. In contrast, Oliphant's tale shifts from the comfort of Naples to the lawless mountains of Calabria. The structure of the collection itself mirrors this movement: the first story is rooted in English country life, while the later ones venture into brigand territory. A. Mary F. Robinson's 'Goneril' (excerpted only in chapter headings) may offer a different kind of domestic drama, but the overall arc of the book moves from the familiar to the foreign, with Italy serving as a backdrop for both comedy and peril.

Narrative Voice and Framing Devices

Each story employs a distinct narrative voice that shapes the reader's perception of Italy. Payn's narrator is retrospective and slightly ironic, describing the Luscombes as a 'vintage' family. Oliphant's narrator is more adventurous and self-deprecating, admitting he was an 'officious spectator' in the events of 1859-1861. The use of first-person narration in both stories creates a sense of immediacy, but also distance, as the narrators reflect on their younger selves. The framing of the collection—selected by Scribners and grouped under the heading 'Italy'—encourages readers to compare these voices. The variety of tones, from the comic to the thrilling, suggests that the editors intended to showcase the range of English literary responses to Italy in the nineteenth century.

The Role of Objects and Props

Objects recur as meaningful details across the stories. In 'A Faithful Retainer,' the narrator mentions statues in the hall, pictures in the gallery, and peacocks on the terrace—all markers of the Luscombes' status. In 'The Brigand's Bride,' the air-gun is both a weapon and a conversation starter, while the sketch-book and knapsack signal the narrator's identity as a traveller. These objects are not merely decorative; they advance the plot or reveal character. The air-gun, for instance, becomes a means of introduction to the locals, allowing the narrator to navigate a foreign environment. The collection thus uses material culture to bridge the gap between English and Italian worlds, with each object carrying a specific narrative function.

Readers approaching this collection will find that the stories reward attention to their openings and to the objects that populate them. The narrators' voices—whether nostalgic, ironic, or adventurous—provide a consistent thread, even as the settings shift from English estates to Italian mountains. The book is best read as a series of variations on a theme, with each story offering a different angle on the encounter between British sensibilities and Italian landscapes. The excerpts suggest that the editors valued variety over uniformity, making this a collection that invites comparison and contrast.

That Italian rain kept me indoors, and Scribners’ collection felt like a slow tour—English travelers forever misreading the locals’ shrugs. I kept noticing how their observations were really about themselves. That quiet self-focus reminded me of another book I’d half-forgotten, Active Service — A Closer Reading, which does the same trick with a sharper, more restless eye.