In the Person of the Author: A Response to “Imagined Companions”

During the years in which I spent most summers in Rome, the little blue backpack I used to tote my stuff around the city almost always contained, regardless of what I was up to that day, a copy of Georgina Masson’s Companion Guide to Rome. The Companion Guides, as the series description on the inside flap of my 1965 edition explained, were designed “to provide a Companion, in the person of the author.” Georgina (we were naturally on a first-name basis) took this job very seriously. Far be it from her to merely recite the names and dates of consuls or lecture me on the vicissitudes of the medieval papacy. As a fellow traveler on the great Roman adventure through life, art, and time, she made it her business to be exquisitely companionable. She was solicitous about my well-being, taking pains to ensure that I wore comfortable shoes (“preferably with a thick soft sole”), didn’t expose myself too long to the sun (“in the middle of the day the Forum is stifling”), and kept up my spirits in the face of common local disasters such as closures, construction, strikes, and vespas (“do not be surprised if plans fail to work out as expected”). She understood that a little cheerleading was sometimes necessary to achieve a desired end. If the 122 steps up to S. Maria Aracoeli required more courage than I could muster on a hot afternoon, she suggested climbing to Piazza Campidoglio via the gently ascending cordonata, which had the added benefit of having been designed by Michelangelo.