The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 28: Rome

In Short

This memoir captures a period of high-stakes social maneuvering and intimate exploration in Rome and Naples. Following a series of narrow escapes and entangled affairs, the narrator acts as a guide and patron to a revolving cast of aristocrats, gamblers, and young women living within the confines of convents and high society. It is an enduring portrait of the 18th-century European demimonde, valued for its unvarnished candor, its sharp observations on the hypocrisy of the nobility, and its vivid, often humorous depiction of a life defined entirely by the search for sensory experience.

The Story

The narrative begins with a tense domestic crisis in Naples involving an English nobleman, Lord Baltimore, and his mistress, Betty. After a heated confrontation that nearly turns violent, the narrator resolves the situation through diplomacy and common sense, earning the Englishman’s gratitude. This encounter sets the tone for a journey marked by frequent shifts in fortune, where social status is as fluid as the narrator’s own bank account. As he settles into the Neapolitan social scene, he crosses paths with the notorious Chevalier Goudar and his wife, Sara, a former tavern girl whose transformation into an elegant, high-society woman serves as a case study in the power of artifice.

The narrator’s life is defined by a succession of brief, intense attachments. In Naples, he finds himself drawn to the fresh simplicity of Callimena, yet he remains restless, eventually departing for Salerno to visit an old flame, Donna Lucrezia Castelli, and their daughter, Leonilda. These family reunions, while marked by affection, are quickly subsumed by the narrator's characteristic need for new intrigue. He orchestrates complex social arrangements, including a flirtation with a lady's maid to distract from his true interests, illustrating his habitual use of deceit to navigate aristocratic circles.

Upon reaching Rome, the narrator’s focus shifts to the city’s unique ecclesiastical social hierarchy. He gains entry to the highest circles, including the orbit of the Duchess of Fiano and Cardinal Bernis. His life becomes a quiet, methodical pursuit of entertainment and romance. He fixates on Armelline, a beautiful girl living within a convent, and begins a series of clandestine visits facilitated by his influence and his ability to dispense gifts. These encounters are not merely romantic; they are complex negotiations of morality and desire. He maneuvers through the rigid rules of the Roman Catholic establishment, using his status to procure favors—such as theater outings—for his young protégées.

The narrative moves toward a climax of artful seduction during the carnival season. The narrator engineers a daring plan to take Armelline and her companion, Scholastica, to a public ball while disguised in men’s clothing. This maneuver highlights the narrator's disdain for rigid social boundaries and his willingness to risk scandal for the sake of a thrill. Following this, the trio retreats to a private setting where the narrator exerts his influence, carefully managing the girls’ emotions and physical experiences. The story concludes with the narrator reflecting on the nature of his desires, acknowledging the repetitive cycle of his pursuits while continuing to chase the next elusive gratification, leaving the reader with a portrait of a man who views his entire existence as a grand, unfolding drama.

How It Unfolds

A crisis of honor The narrator narrowly avoids a fatal duel with an English nobleman, de-escalating the situation through calm intervention and securing a fragile peace. This incident establishes the narrator’s ability to manipulate volatile personalities and social pressures to his own advantage.

The art of transformation In Naples, the narrator encounters the Goudars and witnesses how a former tavern worker is successfully coached to move among the elite. This subplot emphasizes the narrator's preoccupation with performance, social climbing, and the thin veneer of nobility.

Family and artifice Traveling to Salerno, the narrator reconnects with his daughter and former mistress, yet he remains incapable of settling down. He uses elaborate ruses, including feigned interests in servants, to maintain his privacy and his appetite for new, fleeting romantic conquests.

Life in the shadow of the Vatican In Rome, the narrator navigates the complex social codes of high-ranking church officials and their companions. He uses his resources to gain access to a convent, turning the strictures of the religious life into a backdrop for his personal romantic campaign.

The final gambit During a carnival, the narrator pushes his luck by disguising his young companions to attend a forbidden ball. The narrative closes on the success of this artifice, as he balances his calculated seductions with the constant threat of public scandal.

The People

The narrator is the center of his own universe, a man who prides himself on his ability to read character and exploit human vulnerability. His goals are rarely long-term; he seeks the immediate gratification of desire and the social prestige of being accepted by the powerful.

Lord Baltimore and Betty represent the volatile, impulsive side of the narrator's peers, serving as a reminder of the violent ends that await those who cannot control their passions. In contrast, the Chevalier Goudar and his wife, Sara, embody the triumph of reinvention. Goudar is a professional gambler and strategist who treats his wife as a project, demonstrating the same transactional approach to relationships that the narrator himself employs.

Armelline is the focus of the narrator’s Roman period, a young woman whose innocence and beauty act as a catalyst for his most elaborate efforts. She is caught between her genuine feelings for the narrator and the restrictive environment of her convent. Scholastica, her companion, serves as a foil; she is more worldly and less conflicted, allowing the narrator to orchestrate complex dynamics between the two. Cardinal Bernis and the Duchess of Fiano are the ultimate arbiters of Roman society. They provide the narrator with the social cover he needs, though he views them with a mixture of respect and cynical distance, always mindful of the power dynamics that keep them in their elevated positions.

In Its Own Voice

"The blood continuing to flaw from my wound, I sent for a surgeon who said that a vein had been opened, and that a proper ligature was necessary."

The narrator reflects on the physical price of his interference in the affairs of others after a near-fatal confrontation.

"I saw that she loved me, but would not come to a parley with her love, hence her repugnance to granting me her favours; if she once did so, her eyes would be opened."

The narrator dissects the internal emotional landscape of Armelline, revealing his clinical, almost detached understanding of the women he pursues.

"The comparison is a sophism. Man becomes amorous through the senses, which, touch excepted, all reside in the head."

The narrator pauses to philosophize about the nature of his own attractions, acknowledging the cognitive, rather than purely emotional, basis of his romantic fixations.

What It's Really About

This book is a study of the performance of self and the transactional nature of 18th-century social life. Beneath the surface of travel and courtship, it asks how much of an individual’s identity is constructed through social status, reputation, and the ability to manipulate the perceptions of others. The narrator’s world is one where "nobility" is frequently a matter of display rather than virtue, and where the most significant power plays occur in the private parlors of the elite or the quiet rooms of a convent. It is a cynical, yet deeply observational, argument that human connection, particularly in the realm of desire, is often a game of strategy, where the "truth" of a person is far less important than the role they are willing to play to secure their desires.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy historical immersion will find this a fascinating, if occasionally challenging, look at the 18th century. It does not offer the polish of a modern novel; rather, it provides a raw, unfiltered look at a worldview dominated by entitlement, obsession, and the pursuit of luxury. The tone is remarkably modern in its detachment, feeling more like a series of long, gossipy letters than a formal biography.

The challenges are real: the text is lengthy, and the narrator’s attitudes toward women—whom he consistently treats as prizes to be won or projects to be shaped—are deeply rooted in the period’s patriarchal assumptions. There is a repetitive quality to the encounters that may test a modern reader's patience. However, for those interested in the history of manners and the psychology of the "adventurer," there is much to learn from the narrator’s self-awareness. He is a man who knows exactly what he is doing, and he rarely makes excuses for himself. What stays with you is the sheer endurance of his appetite; he is a permanent outsider who navigates the most rigid societies with the confidence of an insider, reminding us that social barriers are often only as strong as the people who believe in them.