The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova de Seingalt, 1725-1798. Volume 09: the False Nun — Themes and Context

A Confession of Avarice and Play

Casanova's opening admission is unusually direct: he gambled because he 'had in me the evil spirit of avarice.' He loved prodigality but bled at spending money not won at the table. This contradiction—wanting to be lavish yet hating to spend his own funds—drives the plot. In the four days before the supper, he lost all the gold that M. M. had won for him. The reader sees a narrator who is both self-aware and helpless before his vice.

This confession is not a mere aside; it frames the wager that follows. Casanova's willingness to risk money on a bet about a nun's identity stems from the same psychology. He treats the bet as a way to satisfy both avarice and prodigality: if he wins, the Englishman pays for his pleasure; if he loses, he pays nothing for the woman. The logic is twisted but consistent with his character as drawn in these pages.

The Wager and Its Mechanics

The central scheme is a bet between Casanova and an Englishman over whether a masked woman is truly the nun M. M. or an impostor. The Englishman proposes a test: after possessing the woman, he will meet Casanova and go together to the convent to ask for M. M. If she appears, the woman left behind is a fraud; if she does not, the wager is lost. Casanova agrees, adding that if the lay-sister says M. M. is ill or it is too late for visitors, he will lose.

The plan involves a casino at Muran that Casanova keeps for a secret amour, Tonine. He will ensure she is absent on the appointed day and provide a cold supper. The Englishman is delighted, and Casanova begins to think he has lost the bet. The negotiation is precise: the Englishman insists on knowing the location by land and water, and Casanova arranges a supper to show him the way. The wager is set at a hundred sequins, but the Englishman offers to raise it to a thousand.

Setting the Stage at Muran

Casanova travels to Muran to prepare his casino. He warns Tonine that he will sup with her and bring two friends, and sends several bottles of excellent wine. Tonine is pleased, asking only if the friends will leave after supper—she cares only for the dessert. This detail reveals Casanova's domestic arrangements: he keeps a young woman in a separate house, and she expects his company but not his friends' overnight stay.

After leaving her, Casanova visits the convent and passes an hour with M. M. in the parlour. He notes that she is recovering her health and beauty daily. This brief scene contrasts with the scheming: while Casanova plots a deception involving a nun, he also maintains a genuine attachment to M. M. The reader sees the two sides of his life—the gambler and the lover—operating simultaneously.

Voice and Self-Presentation

Casanova's narrative voice is marked by direct address to the reader. He anticipates a question: 'Why did you play, when there was no need of it?' and answers it with a confession of avarice. This rhetorical device creates an intimacy, as if the reader is a confidant. He also uses the phrase 'dear inquisitive reader' and later 'dear reader,' reinforcing the conversational tone.

His self-presentation is complex: he admits to a vice but does not apologize. Instead, he explains it as a law of his nature. The memoir thus becomes a psychological portrait as much as a record of events. The excerpts show a man who is analytical about his own failings yet unable to change them. This tension gives the narrative its energy, as the reader watches Casanova walk into schemes he knows may ruin him.

Readers approaching this volume should attend to Casanova's candid self-assessments, which are woven into the action. The wager over the false nun is not merely a plot device but a manifestation of his character. Notice how he balances confession with narrative momentum, and how the settings—the casino, the convent parlour, the Muran house—reflect different facets of his life. The excerpts offer a concentrated sample of his memoir style: intimate, shrewd, and unsparing about his own flaws.

The rain kept up its patient drumming on the window while I lost myself in Casanova’s wager over the false nun. His appetite for a gamble felt strangely familiar. I set the book aside and noticed my grandfather’s old volume on the shelf, The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 4 (of 7) — Background and Themes, its pages holding quieter lives, no dice required.