The title has given me fits, far moreso than the actual story.
The original title for the first book was ‘Il Veltro.’ Italian for The Greyhound, it has several other, wonderful, connotations. Firstly, it is the title used for the hero of the prophecy in the first Canto of Dante’s Inferno:
‘For that beast that moves you to cry out
Lets no man pass her way,
But so besets him that she slays him.
Her nature is so vicious and malign
Her greedy appitite is never sated –
After feeding she is hungrier than ever.
Many are the creatures she takes to her bed,
and there will yet be more, until the Greyhound
shall come, who’ll make her die in pain.’
For hundreds of years people have debated the identity of Il Veltro. General consensus lands on Cangrande, Dante’s patron and friend, the ruler of Verona whose very name (Cane Grande) means the Great Hound.
Secondly, Il Veltro also led nicely to the titles for the sequels. In the Inferno, Dante is confronted by a leopard (La Lonza), a lion (Il Liono), and a she-wolf (La Lupa). I have created an outline using these allegorical figures, working in other animals so that each novel has an underlying animal motif. I still use this outline, even though these titles have gone.
Finally, Il Veltro has another, earthier meaning. It is Italian slang for ‘The Bastard.’
So, in a book where Cangrande adopts a bastard child as his heir, where Dante figures prominently, Il Veltro seemed – and still seems – the clever title.
But readers will understand all this only after they’ve read the book. Which, as was pointed out to me several times by people smarter than I, doesn’t get readers to pick up the book in the first place. Italians might get it, but readers in English never would. I was killing my sales to be clever.
Fine. So, next came the literal translation – The Greyhound of Verona. Michael Denneny, my editor and agent, suggested it, which was nice because it had been in the back of my head too. I liked adding the place to the title, allowing a sense of scope.
But once the book was sold, Keith, my editor at St. Martin’s, was nonplussed by The Greyhound. Which added to the fact that my wife kept whispering in my ear, “Why is there a bus in Verona?”
At my first meeting with Keith from St. Martin’s, we discussed other series we enjoyed. As always, it came back to Dorothy Dunnett. Her titles have wonderful consistency between them, relevant to the stories yet abstract as concepts. Her first series bore titles having to do with chess, culminating in Checkmate. In her second historical series, each book had a title to do with signs of the zodiac – which makes me insane, because it would be so damned perfect for my series, but it’s already been done.
Keith and I discussed what there was to create consistency between my novels. I offered up lines from Shakespeare and Dante, to which he nodded non-committally. Then Jan said, “David, don’t all those medieval fight moves have names? Why not use those?”
“Brilliant!” cried Keith.
“Brilliant!” cried I.
So for six months or so the book was entitled The Murder-Stroke. Keith liked using murder in the title, a good hook. I liked the name of the second book better, THE MASTER’S GRIP. For some reason, The Murder-Stroke seemed – small. It lacked any reference to the actual story, except that I had carefully worked the actual move from Talhoffer’s medieval fightbook into the novel. Michael pointed out that it also didn’t connect with Keith’s tagline for the book – "Romeo & Juliet is the greatest love story ever told – and every story has a beginning."
In early May 2006, I wrote to both Michael and Keith in desperation. What should I do about the title? By now I was just throwing random words at the wall. The Prince of Verona? The Lord of Verona? Murder in Verona? Death in Venice? Death in the Bayou? Jimmy Goes to the Moon?
Then, in early June, Keith wrote:
“To my mind, we’re looking for something that has a certain grandeur to it (reflecting the sweep of the novel itself), something that has a hint of historical feel, and brief enough that it’ll work well in conjunction with the eventual cover. Which, when one looks at the David Liss books, is the element we are missing. (The Coffee Trader doesn’t thrill as a title – but it’s rescued by a great cover.)”
His suggestion? THE MASTER OF VERONA. Though I still had Prince of Verona kicking around in my head, I decided to go with Master. It leads nicely to the second book, THE MASTER’S GRIP, though where we go from there I’m not sure. And Keith’s right, it has a bit of grandeur and scope.
So, a year away from publication, the title stands at THE MASTER OF VERONA. I like it. But in my head and when I talk about the book with Jan, who’s been with me for the whole ride, it’s still Il Veltro.
The bastard.
* * * *
I’m interested in hearing reactions to the title. Perhaps I’ll set up a poll. In the meantime, I’d love to get e-mails on this, and on how people think this week-old site is going – what works, what doesn’t, how I can improve it. It’s a big help hearing from all of you out there. I’m trying to post every day, and I’m going to run out of topics eventually. Is there something you’re interested in hearing about? Let me know.
Cheers,
DB
