Skip to main content

But now is different: now the entire world has to start all over again





I am Italian, an Italian who is now heading towards the termination of his life. I loved Italy until the end of the Seventies. Then  Italy, that Italy in which I was born and that I had deeply loved, began to be dismantled. In large part, the job of dismantling Italy was the prerogative of a brainwasher of great ability: Silvio Berlusconi. He arrived with his private TV channels and wiped out all the virtues of my folks. He changed the DNA of my people. He made it unrecognisable.
The disappointment I feel seeing what is now left of my beautiful country, Italy, is infinite, especially now that I live far from the country where I was born grew up and in which I would never want to live again.

But another profound connoisseur of the Italian spirit had been strongly disappointed long before me. Because his country had lost its virtue, courage and martial souls to become a land without glory and without courage.
And I'm talking about Giacomo Leopardi.

O patria mia, vedo le mura e gli archi 
E le colonne e i simulacri e l’erme
Torri degli avi nostri,
Ma la gloria non vedo,


O my country, I see the walls, arches
columns, statues, lone
towers of our ancestors,
but I do not see the glory [1]

An Italy without a warlike spirit, and even cowardly

Non vedo il lauro e il ferro ond’eran carchi
I nostri padri antichi. Or fatta inerme,


I do not see the iron and the laurel in which
our forefathers were clasped. Now, defenceless,

So I ask myself: did I love that Italy, the Italy that Leopardi is accusing? Probably. Or was what came after the Seventies ( the Italy I loved but the commiserated Italy of Leopardi though) even worse than the Italy I loved and Leopardi accused?
This last hypothesis is probably true.
As Leopardi says:

"La storia dell'uomo non presenta altro che un passaggio continuo da un grado di civiltà ad un altro, poi all'eccesso di civiltà, e finalmente alla barbarie, e poi da capo".

"The history of humanity presents nothing but a continuous passage from one stage of civilization to another, then to the excess of civilization, and finally to barbarism, and then all over again".

What came out of the Italy I loved was the Italy of barbarism, as Leopardi underlines. And now we have to wait for the end of this stage to start all over again.
But now is different: now the entire world has to start all over again.

[1] From the poem All'Italia


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

by Fabrizio Ulivieri Lithuanian is the most archaic among all the Indo-European languages spoken today, and as a result it is very useful, indeed, indispensable in the study of Indo-European linguistics. The most important fact is that Lithuanian is not only very archaic, but still very much alive, i. e., it is spoken by about three and a half million people. It has a rich tradition in folklore, in literature, and it is used very successfully in all walks of modern life, including the most advanced scientific research. Forced by our interest for this piece of living archaism, we go deeper in our linguistic survey. One of the most noticeable similarities is the future (- sigmatic future -). Lithuanian has preserved a future tense from prehistoric times: it has one single form, e.g. kalbė-siu 'I will speak', etc. kalbė-si kalbė-s kalbė-sime kalbė-site kalbė-s This form kalbėsiu is made from the stem kalbė-(ti) 'to speak', plus the ancient stem-end...

Yellow moons

Yellow moons at nighttime, Beyond the windows loom Stretch along and rise to bloom Flooding streets and singing rhyme. Downtown trains are full tonight. White pale girls try hard  Their world shy discard  Cross pale and dull the light. Like crows wave hands  Uneasy scatter and chat around Watch the light now profound. But proudly keep their stands. Nothing captures their heart. Like thorns they are - without a rose. Oh, if I were the one they choose I would span silent the dark. I know that window, I know it's late I know the stairs and the doorway I stand by the light at the four-way I walk down past the gate and wait. Will I see her eyes tonight? From a downtown train A girl among many faces, insane Will I catch her slight dim sight? Oh my dreams, if she falls away, Am I going alone nowhere? Following the moon's glare I lonely wait - watch the train stay. -------------- PS. " Downtown Train" is one of my favourite songs. Tom Waits’ voice, or Rod Stewart’s voice sing...

Lietuviško skausmo kultūra

  Gyvenu Lietuvoje jau keletą metų. Vertinu daug dalykų Lietuvoje. Ypač įdomūs man pasirodė žmonės. Mano nuomone, tai žmonės - ypač kilę iš kaimo vietovių, kurie sudaro daugumą - giliai įsišakniję skausmo kultūroje. Čia dalinuosi savo pastebėjimais, kurie gali būti neteisingi. Jei mano pastebėjimai neteisingi, prašau juos laikyti išoriniais — užsieniečio iš kitos kultūros žvilgsnio pastebėjimais Pagarba kitam paprastai matuojama laisve : „Kiek toli galiu peržengti savo laisvę, netapdamas problema kitam?“  Lietuvoje šis matas tampa kitu klausimu: „Kiek toli galiu peržengti savo skausmo slenkstį, kad mano skausmas netaptų problema kitam?“ Lietuviška kultūra yra giliai panirusi į skausmo viziją. Taip nutiko dėl daugelio priežasčių, tačiau svarbiausia, mano akimis, yra viena: lietuvis žmogus yra užsidaręs savyje - izoliuota, uždara ir beveik neįveikiama monada. Lietuvis žmogus turi savo tapatybę, bet ją visada sieja su dominuojančia viešąja mintimi. Jis eina savo keliu, bet visada...