So far, my research on this painting has consisted of analysing the image fairly closely, in the light of something I bring to it from elsewhere. There is no such thing as ‘pure’ reading: interpretation always involves extra-textual knowledge. Some of this is general, part of the repertoire of knowledges that constitutes a culture; some of it is personal, a matter of one’s own interests or biography; and some of it is derived from secondary sources. The first impulse of many researchers, confronted by an unfamiliar text, is to look up what others have said about it on the internet, in the library, in bibliographies provided for the purpose.
Secondary sources have their uses. They will soon make clear that the story of Lucretia is told by Livy and Ovid, and discussed by Saint Augustine. They will indicate the place of this painting in Titian’s work, and provoke comparisons of his manner of painting with his contemporaries and his master, Giovanni Bellini. All this is valuable, if it leads to further textual analysis. Always read the sources and consider the analogues. Never take other people’s word for it. This is the key to saying something new: what is distinctive about this text emerges as its difference from all the others.
Secondary material can be unduly seductive too, however. Textual analysis is hard - and, if it isn’t, it ought to be. It is always much easier to do a literature search, or read an anthology of essays. It is easier, but less productive. What secondary sources usually provide is well informed, coherent and rhetorically persuasive arguments, which can leave the researcher convinced that whatever can be said has been said already. The way to use secondary sources is very sparingly indeed. I prefer to make a list of the questions posed by the text and arrive at my own tentative, provisional answers, and only then to read other people’s interpretations.
