Senso & Other Stories     by Camillo Boito, Translated by R. Conway and Christine Donougher Original title: Senso ed altre storielle vane Original language: Italian Published by Hippocrene Books, Inc. Pub. Date: 1992 Format: Paperback, 192 pages Dimensions: (in inches): 8.25 x 0.35 x 5.27 ISBN: 0781800056 List Price: $11.95 Not available for ordering Published by Dedalus, Sawtry Pub. Date: 1993 Pub. Place: UK Format: Paperback, 207 pages List Price: £6.99 Not available for ordering

Set against the scarcely discernible backdrop of Italy’s war of unification in the latter half of the nineteenth century, Senso can be seen as the last act in the drama of an aristocracy in decline, thoroughly contaminated by its connection to a decaying tradition. Far from the upheavals rocking the country at that time, a clandestine love affair develops between an occupying soldier — a sordid German officer stationed in Venice — and a woman of the occupied nation — the Italian Countess Livia. He is handsome and perverse, she is hardened to life in an unhappy marriage, and their relationship is founded on parallel interests: for her it is the opportunity to give herself up to a passion never experienced before, while for him it is the chance to enjoy the easy life of a deserter, financed by his lover’s wealth. But their attempt to escape from the world is doomed to failure and its epilogue is a woman’s violent vendetta in the face of betrayal.


This story by a self-professed literary outsider — made into a film by Visconti in 1954 — is striking for its stylistic unity, where the Romantic impulse of the nineteenth century is successfully checked by Realism.


In addition to the celebrated novella Senso there are five other short stories in this collection.

‘I was living in virtual solitude. My social circle had already been getting gradually more restricted, because for some time now the noble families of Trentino, opposed to the count’s political opinions, had very politely but firmly been keeping their distance. The young people, being fervently nationalistic, unceremoniously avoided us, indeed hated us. Local officials, not knowing how the war would end, and wary of compromising themselves one way or another, now avoided setting foot in our house. So, we were seeing a few pro-Austrian aristocrats, all of them penniless and parasitic, and a few high-ranking Tyrolese officials, who were crass, pig-headed and stank of beer and cheap tobacco. Army officers no longer had any free time to spare, nor any desire to spend it in my company.’ p37