Approach of the Study

33 a. Setting of Place outside Peru i. Firenze Several places outside Peru are mentioned in The Storyteller. One of them is Firenze. Firenze becomes a significant setting in this novel since it opens the story by its appearance in the first chapter and it finishes the story for it appears again in the last chapter. The placement of Firenze in the beginning and the last of the story seem to cover the whole story because the two chapters are put in present time which wrap a flashback part in the middle of the story. The first chapter of The Storyteller directly mentions Firenze when a no- name narrator stated that he went to that place so that he could release his mind for a while from thinking about his country, Peru. ‗I came to Firenze to forget Peru and the Peruvians for a while, and suddenly my unfortunate country forced itself upon me this morning in the most unexpected way ,‘ Llosa, 1989: 3. Firenze as the setting of place in the earliest part of The Storyteller can be seen not only from the direct mentioning but also from the description of some places belongs to this city. This can be understood when the narrator, who seemed to have a trip in this city, stated that he visited some places explaining the details of Firenze. The places were Dante‘s restored house, Church of San Martino del Véscovo, and Via Santa Margherita. I had visited Dante‘s restored house, the little Church of San Martino del Véscovo, and the lane where, so legend has it, he first saw Beatrice, when, in the little Via Santa Margherita, a window display stopped me short: bows, arrows, a carved oar, a pot with a geometric design, a mannequin bundled into a wild cotton cushma Llosa, 1989: 3. 34 The description of Firenze as the setting of place in the first chapter is developed by a moment when the narrator visited a gallery. This gallery somehow describes Firenze in terms of art. It can be seen from the below quotation when the narrator was between feeling doubt and curious to enter the gallery since it had something to do with his knowledge about Renaissance works. Naturally, I went in. With a strange shiver and the presentiment that I was doing something foolish, that mere curiosity was going to jeopardize in some way my well-conceived and, up until then, well- executed plan−to read Dante and Machiavelli and look at Renaissance paintings for a couple of months in absolute solitute−and precipitate one of those personal upheavals that periodically make chaos of my life. But, naturally, I went in Llosa, 1989: 3-4. Another description of Firenze is found in the conversation between the narrator and a girl watching over things in the gallery. The narrator asked the girl and she replied in Italian language. The gallery was minute. A single low-ceilinged room in which, to make room for all photographs, two panels had been added, every inch of them covered with pictures. A thin girl in glasses, stting behind a small table, looked up at me. Could I visit the ―Natives of the Amazon Forest‖ exhibition? ―Certo. Avanti, Avanti,‖ Llosa, 1989: 4. Still, the description about Firenze in the first chapter is shown from language used. In almost the last of this chapter, the narrator asked the girl if he could buy one the paintings or meet the photographer. The girl replied that he could not since the photographer had already passed away. She replied this in Italian language as quoted below. Making an effort to contain my excitement, I asked if the photographs were for sale. No, she didn‘t think so. They belonged to Rizzoli, the publishers. Apparently they were going to appear in a book. I asked her to put me in touch with the photographer. No, that wouldn‘t be possible, unfortunately: ―Il signore Gabriele Malfatti ѐ morto,‖ Llosa, 1989: 6.