Two Pilgrims' Progress; from fair Florence, to the eternal city of Rome — A Closer Reading

A Wheelwright's Trade and a Poet's Preface

Before the narrative begins, Charles G. Leland contributes a dedicatory poem that playfully defends the book's parody of Bunyan. He puns on the authors' surname—'Pen-nell'—and boasts of being the first to write a rhyme on the bicycle. The poem establishes the work as a lighthearted travelogue, not a solemn allegory. Leland's voice, with its archaic diction and self-deprecating humor, primes the reader for a journey that is as much about the act of writing and sketching as about the places visited. The preface also hints at the collaborative nature of the project: Elizabeth writes, Joseph illustrates, and Leland provides the 'Accomp'niment of Song.'

The Pilgrims' Progress Through Tuscany

The excerpts from the main text reveal a pattern of movement and pause. The travelers cycle through varied landscapes—from the 'thickly wooded country' near Montepulciano to the 'fair Val di Chiana'—and their descriptions shift between broad vistas and intimate details. In Pienza, they note the 'fine crescents of the Piccolomini' and the 'old stone well and its beautiful wrought-iron work.' The narrative voice is precise: Joseph sketches a courtyard while Elizabeth observes the ironwork. This alternation between motion and stillness, between the panoramic and the particular, gives the journey a rhythm that mirrors the physical act of cycling.

Detained in Montepulciano: The Human Comedy

A key episode occurs when Joseph falls ill in Montepulciano, forcing a two-day halt at the Albergo Marzocco. The description of the inn—'on the fifth floor of an old palace, and the entrance was through the kitchen'—is rich with character. The padrona announces herself as a washerwoman and cook; the staff includes a 'youth of unparalleled stupidity.' Elizabeth's tone is affectionate but sharp, as she notes the inefficiency caused by the padrone's divided attention between the inn and his pork shop. This section grounds the travelogue in the everyday realities of Italian life, away from scenic vistas, and reveals the authors' ability to find humor in inconvenience.

The View from the Window: Lakes and Bells

Throughout the excerpts, the authors repeatedly frame their observations through windows and archways. In Montepulciano, Elizabeth notes that 'at almost every turn we saw through an archway the three far-away lakes of Montepulciano, Chiusi, and Thrasymene.' This compositional device—borrowed from painting—gives the prose a visual structure. The landscape is often seen in layers: the olive-gardens in the foreground, the 'purple mountains' beyond, and the 'broad spaces of bright sky' above. The sound of bells, too, punctuates the journey: 'All the bells rang out as if in welcome' when they wheel into Montepulciano. These sensory details anchor the reader in the pilgrims' immediate experience.

Readers approaching Two Pilgrims' Progress should attend to the interplay between Elizabeth's prose and Joseph's illustrations (though only text excerpts are provided here). The book rewards those who enjoy a blend of travelogue, social observation, and gentle self-mockery. The episodic structure—moving from road to inn to town—mirrors the pace of a bicycle tour, with each stop offering a new vignette. The authors' eye for the absurd and their willingness to linger on minor characters make this more than a simple itinerary; it is a portrait of Italy as seen from the saddle.

That rainy afternoon, I kept returning to Two Pilgrims' Progress, tracing their wobbling bicycle lines on the map. Their amused patience with dusty roads made me wonder about other travelers, less romantic, heading west instead of south. I set it down and picked up a much older journey — Trip to the West and Texas comprising a journey of eight thousand miles, through New-York, Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, Louisiana and Texas, in the autumn and winter of — Inside the Classic — and felt the same patient, unhurried rhythm, just muddier.