Ridicule Part 2: Sprezzatura

The rigors of playing at ridicule bring us to the origins of an Italian word that I learned recently-- sprezzatura-- meaning "nonchalance" or "studied carelessness." The movie Ridicule exemplifies the meaning of this word, and how it was valued at court. A quick read on Wikipedia (where else?) lays out the invention of the word and a way of being and behaving that originated among courtiers. Although this film takes place in the 1700s, it's not difficult to see how sprezzatura has remained alive and well in some spheres of our culture today. 

Like the film's hero, we Americans are somewhat inherently earnest because few of us are descended from someone who came here on a whim. The young nobleman isn't going to Versailles on a whim either, just to see the sights and buy the latest fashions and trinkets, although he does do that as a social necessity. After seeing the travails and expense that our Sir Newbie goes through to prove his lineage-- which is required for his fitness to enter the King's court to present his case-- it's less difficult to imagine what many of America's first idealists envisioned: a more accessible system of representation to a wider population. While the success of that ideal is perennially debated, it's at least easy to see from this film just what kind of system they had grown weary of. Also, it's easy to see why Benjamin Franklin enjoyed his time spent in Versailles so well-- just look at the vixen again.

(When it comes to misleading movie marketing, the previous image is a good example. This actress does not play a vixen. She is the equally earnest and proper daughter of a medical doctor, who is trying to aid and assist our hero. The temptress in the film is actually an older and sophisticated courtier, played by the beautiful Fanny Ardant. However, this young Mathilde is also distracted by life at court and isn't completely smitten with Science at all times).

A bird and a bee in a Versailles garden

From the standpoint of creative endeavors, this film dispels the mystique of artistry as being easy and undemanding to a select few, and reinforces the knowledge that no one can do marvelous things without putting in a great deal of effort. When a desired effect is reached several times, then it can get less challenging and then stylish, but it is definitely not effortless.

The best stories about other people serve to help us recognize what sort of situation we find ourselves in, and what knowledge we need to navigate it. A brief run-down of the history of sprezzatura will add to the appreciation of Ridicule, and also to an apprehension of how pointless art can quickly lead to pointed artifice, along with the loss of one's spirit and place in the world. The original mission can get swamped by the machinations of ever-changing societal conventions.

Gallain de Batailles by Francois Joseph Heim, depicting the Palace of Versailles

From Wikipedia:

Sprezzatura is an Italian word originating from Baldassare Castiglione's The Book of the Courtier, where it is defined by the author as "a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever one does or says appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it".

It is the ability of the courtier to display "an easy facility in accomplishing difficult actions which hides the conscious effort that went into them".

Sprezzatura has also been described "as a form of defensive irony: the ability to disguise what one really desires, feels, thinks, and means or intends behind a mask of apparent reticence and nonchalance".

The word has entered the English language; the Oxford English Dictionary defines it as "studied carelessness".