Two Women: Analysis of Major Characters
"Two Women: Analysis of Major Characters" delves into the complexities of the protagonist Cesira and her daughter Rosetta, offering a nuanced exploration of their characters against the backdrop of war-torn Italy. Cesira is portrayed as a multifaceted individual, embodying both the traditional values of a peasant and the pragmatism of a shopkeeper in Rome. Her inner thoughts reveal a struggle between her deep-seated decency and the harsh realities that shape her worldview, making her a relatable figure who grapples with profound hardship. Meanwhile, Rosetta evolves from a cherished child into a woman affected by trauma and the brutality of war, highlighting the impact of external forces on personal identity. Her journey reflects both her mother’s overprotectiveness and her own painful yet transformative experiences, particularly after a life-altering assault. As the narrative unfolds, Rosetta's character develops complexity, showcasing her internal conflict and search for redemption amidst a new moral landscape created by war. Together, mother and daughter represent the enduring human spirit, resilience, and the struggle for understanding in a world rife with chaos and suffering.
Two Women: Analysis of Major Characters
Author: Alberto Moravia
First published: La ciociara, 1957 (English translation, 1958)
Genre: Novel
Locale: Sant'Eufemia, Italy
Plot: Social realism
Time: 1943–1944
Cesira (cheh-ZEE-rah), the narrator. Readers learn about her not only from her direct descriptions of herself but also from all she has to say about others. Her ability to articulate her feelings and her impressions of landscape and characters are remarkable; critics have objected that the author blurs the line between what a woman of little formal education would be capable of and his own intensely literary and intellectual powers. The times when the author takes Cesira out of character with an inappropriate figure of comparison or piece of knowledge are few; and readers come to accept Cesira's inner monologue as authentic and her vocabulary as one of an inner life that can make itself known through means other than words. At her most primitive and undifferentiated Cesira is a peasant from a region noted for its sturdy, feisty stock, steeped in tradition. At a more sophisticated level, she is a Roman shopkeeper, meticulous about property and money. Much that a reader is likely to find unpleasant about her—as small-minded, mean, or snobbish—results from these layers of her personality. Cesira is much more than this, and the depths of her understanding and her ability to reconcile herself with devastating hardship give her impressive stature as a kind of Everywoman. Certain values endure in her, including her standards of decency and her sense of justice.
Rosetta, Cesira's daughter. Much of the book appears to be about one woman (Cesira), rather than the two women of the title. Cesira narrates the novel, so all of its information is filtered through her. Bit by bit, however, Rosetta becomes known to the reader, at first as the object of her mother's love and concern, but then increasingly as a person in her own right who can influence Cesira's actions and be credited by her mother, in the penultimate paragraph of the book, with having inspired Cesira's newborn confidence. Rosetta's growth in importance parallels her growth as a person as well as Cesira's removal by war from other persons she had come to depend upon for company. Although she is an adult, Rosetta in some ways remains childlike, in part because of her mother's overprotectiveness. She is deeply and simply religious. All of this appears to have changed following her rape by a band of Moroccan soldiers (nominally liberators of Fascist Italy) in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary in a country church. Driven to repeat some elements of this experience, but in situations in which she can feel more in control, Rosetta acts promiscuously, at one point having sex, it is implied, with three young gangsters at once. Cesira has said that her daughter is a kind of saint, by which she means someone given to absolute goodness. After the rape, Rosetta appears to be devoted to being wicked. Challenged on this, Rosetta offers no defense, other than to say that the war has created a new morality—one that her mother, for one, finds indistinguishable from amorality. After her boyfriend Rosario is murdered by highwaymen, Rosetta regains her ability to sing, together with her ability to grieve. It is implied that she will be able to forgive herself for all that she has done or has happened to her as a result of the war that is now at an end.