This essay calls for a fresh look at Spenser's relationship to Petrarch-one that moves past a reliance on commonplace notions of "Petrarchism" to consider what exactly the English poet may have learned from his Italian predecessor. It thus explores what it might mean to identify Spenser as "post-Petrarchan": to love and rival Vergil, to engage in intense literary self-reflection and autobiographical self-presentation, to reach for an international, multilingual audience engaged in cross-cultural and transhistorical dialogue, and to transform the lyric from a relatively minor literary genre to one that sought epic amplitude.
Spenser was my gateway drug to Petrarch-and for that, I must blame Bill Oram. An immigrant, first-generation international student, fresh off the boat and quite confident of being an economics major, I had never heard of Spenser, much less Petrarch, before I met Bill. But I still remember Bill's voice reading the opening poem of the Amoretti as I watched the leaves outside turn to red and yellow in Northampton for the very first time. Three years later, as I sat on the floor outside his office in the turretlike third floor of Seelye Hall, anxiously clutching a new copy of Durling's translation of the Rerum vulgarium fragmenta in one hand and an utterly inadequate, small Italian-English dictionary in the other, it was Bill who gently reminded me that learning languages and traditions takes timeand that I was only just starting out. In the fifteen years since that evening when I almost gave up studying Italian and felt overwhelmed by the weight of all the Renaissance erudition and scholarship that menaced my fledgling