The bacio mordace, or the biting kiss, was one of the most erotic and consequently very popular poetic tropes of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century, particularly through the poetry of Battista Guarini (1538–1612) and Giambattista Marino (1569–1625). In his later books of madrigals, particularly the Seventh Book of 1619, Monteverdi was drawn to madrigals with such provocative imagery, although in a more overt way compared to his earlier kiss madrigals of the Second Book of 1590. In his later kiss madrigals, Monteverdi sought to give a musical dimension not so much to a cerebral obsession with kisses, but rather in the execution of them. The concertato medium proved ideal to render musical poets’ syntactical play on who is kissing whom, and the degree to which teeth were involved.

Monteverdi’s relationship with Torquato Tasso (1544–95) is typically associated with the Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda (1624; pub. Eighth Book, 1638): a spectacular musical scena drawn from Tasso’s epic Gerusalemme liberata, in which the crusader knight Tancredi battles the Saracen heroine Clorinda. But Monteverdi’s introduction to the musical possibilities of the Gerusalemme began decades before, just as his experiments with the musical lament long predated the opera Arianna (1608). This chapter examines Monteverdi’s earliest settings of Tasso’s epic – the lamentations of Tancredi and Armida in the Third Book (1592) – as musical representations of lament through not the verisimilitude of opera but rather the artifice of five-voice madrigals. Monteverdi’s initial engagement with Tasso’s Gerusalemme catalysed the composer’s early experiments with the musical lament, a topos that occupied an important space both in opera and in madrigals.

Kisses have an uneasy relationship with time. They are ever desired, withheld, stolen, and multiplied because they create more longing than they satiate. The kiss is both sensual and spiritual, direct and oblique, unifying and dividing – it is the embodiment of the erotic paradox. From its origins in the Song of Songs and Catullus, to the Basia of Secundus and the baci mordaci of Marino, the tradition of kiss-poetry conveys the pleasurable frustration of talking about love instead of making it: the necessity of speech acts in bringing about the physical act of kissing, and the impossibility of simultaneity between the two. Monteverdi’s engagement with the poetic conceit of kisses – mouths uttering delights by actions, words, and song – dates to his introduction to the poetry of Torquato Tasso (1544–95) during his final years in Cremona. This chapter traces the history of kiss poetry to focus on Monteverdi's earliest interactions with kiss poetry, the madrigals from his Second Book of 1590.

The poetic mode most often associated with the marvellous is epic: an inherently hybrid form of poetry that combines narration with enactment. In his Discorsi del poema eroico (1587; pub. 1594), Torquato Tasso (1544–95) conveyed his own understanding of meraviglia, which in epic poetry is essential as long as it is tempered, in his view, by verisimile (verisimilitude). This chapter explores the transformation of epic from poem to madrigal to reveal how musical setting recalibrated the representational balance achieved in epic poetry. Following the lead of Giaches de Wert (1535–96) and Luca Marenzio (1553–99), Monteverdi would bring epic poetry in ottava rima – particularly musical settings of Tasso’s epic Gerusalemme liberata (1581) – into the lyric-dominated world of the madrigal book.

Monteverdi’s place in the history of music has long had its roots in text music relations; he has been seen as a faithful interpreter of Italian poetry and a master of matching musical technique to poetic gesture. Scholars have perhaps been too quick to explain perceived tensions or inconsistencies between text and music in Monteverdi’s madrigals as youthful emulations of his forebears, begrudging concessions to new poetic trends, or simply as mistakes. What is more is that these very same tensions, or lack thereof, have occasionally been taken as proof of Monteverdi’s own literary allegiances: Petrarchan, Marinist, or otherwise. Nevertheless, Monteverdi seems to have been less concerned with matching poet to poetics as he was with exploring the representational potential of musical technique and poetic voice. This introduction reconsiders the poetics of the marvellous in scholarly perceptions of Monteverdi’s approach to the interpretation of poetry.

This chapter focuses on musical interpretations of Giambattista Marino’s (1569–1625) pastoral poetry in Monteverdi’s Sixth Book of madrigals from 1614. The pastoral mode gave Monteverdi licence to create imaginary worlds of musical shepherds and nymphs, just as it had given Marino the opportunity to create a web of poetic references reaching back to antiquity. The formal and stylistic experiments found in the pastoral madrigals, or the rime boscherecce, provided Monteverdi fertile ground from which to use musical materials in a similar way. The affinities and, in many cases, the incongruities between the pastoral images and characters in the texts and Monteverdi’s manipulation of them in music created a new kind of listening experience for the audience. It invited them to delight in the unexpected.

The tragedian Aeschylus is said to have called his plays slices from Homer’s banquet, by which he presumably meant slices from what Homer had left behind on the table.1 It is much easier, as Aeschylus knew (and so famously did), to develop stories that Homer probably knew but did not tell or (as Roman poets eventually did) to weave new stories using Homeric techniques than it is to rework in an artistically effective way what Homer had already done in the Iliad and Odyssey. A change of genre may certainly make that task easier, and the aim of this essay is to look specifically at what happens when a slice from Homer’s own platter becomes a libretto and then, in turn, a performable opera. The specific process in question involves the self-styled poème lyrique of the prolific dramatist, librettist, and actor René Fauchois and Pénélope, the opera made from it by Gabriel Fauré.