Casanova opens his encounter with Voltaire not with reverence but with a contest of wits. When he declares himself Voltaire's pupil, the philosopher retorts with a quip about tuition fees, and the room laughs at Casanova's expense. Rather than defer, Casanova waits for revenge, noting that laughter 'keeps one party in countenance at the other's expense.' This volume, the fifteenth of his memoirs, juxtaposes such intellectual jousting with a parallel narrative of seduction: a nun who fears excommunication if seen unveiled, a married woman who feigns sleep to invite advances. The catalog subjects—'Europe -- History -- 18th century -- Biography'—suggest a historical record, but the excerpts reveal a memoir focused on personal triumph and pleasure, where historical figures serve as foils for Casanova's own wit and desire.

Voltaire as Foil, Not Teacher

Casanova frames his meeting with Voltaire as a duel of repartee, not a pupil's homage. When Voltaire jokes about waiting twenty years for fees, Casanova parries: 'Certainly, if you promise to wait for me.' The exchange is less about philosophy than about social dominance. Casanova later criticizes Voltaire's compliment to English visitors—'I wish I were' English—as 'false and out of place,' arguing that 'every man of honour should put his own nation first.' This is not a student absorbing ideas but a memoirist asserting his own judgment. The conversation quickly shifts to Algarotti, where Casanova dismisses the Italian's style as 'wretched' for being full of French idioms. Throughout, Casanova positions himself as a critic of Voltaire's circle, not a disciple. The excerpts show no engagement with Voltaire's writings; instead, the great man becomes a prop for Casanova's performance of wit and cultural authority.

The Nun, the Veil, and Excommunication

A parallel episode reveals a different kind of contest. A nun, pregnant and sneezing from hellebore, begs Casanova to let her veil herself, warning that the abbess threatened excommunication if she is seen by a man. Casanova laughs at her fears—'Fear these bolts no longer, dear'—and continues kissing her. His narration justifies his actions with a theological twist: he concludes that saving her 'would be an action pleasing to God,' since God made her resemble a former lover and gave him money to help. This self-serving piety is typical of Casanova's voice: he claims to 'refer all the actions of my life to God' even as he seduces a nun. The episode underscores how the memoir blends erotic adventure with a veneer of religious rationalization. The catalog subject 'Europe -- History -- 18th century' barely captures such intimate, morally ambiguous scenes.

Pleasure as Performance: The Zeroli Interlude

With the married Zeroli, Casanova turns seduction into a public display. After a morning of lovemaking, she insists he stay three more days at Aix so that 'the two countesses will burst with envy.' Casanova agrees, even at the risk of losing money: 'I will gladly oblige you, even though I lose all my money.' This is not romance but social theater—pleasure is a weapon in a game of reputation. The episode also reveals Casanova's calculated approach: he recalls a past mistake of respecting a sleeping woman's modesty and resolves not to repeat it. When he finds Zeroli asleep, he 'gently uncovered her' and proceeded, knowing she would 'wisely continue to sleep' until passion overcame her. The memoir presents seduction as a skill honed by experience, where the narrator's desires are paramount. Such details, absent from the catalog's broad historical subjects, define the work's actual texture.

Readers expecting a sustained portrait of Voltaire will find instead a memoirist who uses the philosopher as a stepping-stone for his own self-display. The catalog subjects—European history and biography—are present only as backdrop; the real subject is Casanova's ingenuity in love and conversation. Approach this volume as a performance of wit and desire, where historical figures appear not as they were but as foils for the narrator's endless self-justification.