LOOKING FOR LUIGI

Casa natale di Luigi Pirandello

As a French and Italian undergraduate back in the late sixties and early seventies, one of the authors whose work was to have a lasting effect on me was Luigi Pirandello, born 150 years ago today. Although or perhaps because his works were complex and posed questions rather than answering them, they immediately appealed to me. A recurring theme in the works of Pirandello is the nature of truth, probably most famously explored, for British and American audiences, in the play Sei personaggi in cerca d’autore (Six Characters in Search of an Author) but my favourite has always been Enrico IV (Henry IV). The title refers to Henry IV of Germany, Holy Roman Emperor and the plot centres around an actor who believes himself to be Henry in “real” life – or does he?

It is always difficult to justify a liking for authors whose political views you abhor and Pirandello, although declaring himself apolitical,  initially supported fascism.  However,  in 1927 he tore up his party membership card in front of fascist leaders and was thereafter watched closely by the régime’s police.

I knew that Pirandello had been born in the Agrigento or Girgenti countryside, but I never thought I would visit his birthplace or dreamt that Agrigento would become one of my favourite cities.

No one, then, was more surprised than me when, on a hot October day during my first visit to Sicily in 1992, I found myself standing outside the Casa Natale di Luigi Pirandello (Pirandello Birthplace) at 12.55 pm., five minutes before it was due to close. I had left Modica at 5 am in order to catch a bus to Gela, where I had despaired of the connecting bus to Agrigento ever arriving, let alone leaving. Once I arrived (late) in Agrigento, it had taken the rest of the morning to find the stop for the local bus that would take me, via a circuitous route on which it seemed to call in on every housing estate in the city's suburbs, to Luigi. I explained what had happened to the custodian and she kindly let me in and went out of her way to explain the exhibits. Then I walked down to the author’s grave under a pine tree, from which you can see the sea and, on a clear day, the coast of Africa.  Pirandello had written,

“Take my urn to Sicily and place it under a stone in the Girgenti (Agrigento) countryside, where I was born." 

I, less eloquently, said, 

“Luigi, I’ve come to see you. It’s taken me a long time and you weren’t always easy to study, nor were you easy to find today. But you taught me to look at life from many different angles and, although at times I've cursed you for it, today I'm here to thank you."

A page from my postcard album

Luigi Pirandello:  Agrigento, 28 June 1867 - Rome, 10 December 1936

THANK YOU, MR FO

As a young Italian graduate, one of the voices that I felt spoke to my generation was that of Dario Fo - dramatist, theatre and film director, actor, writer, painter, political activist, Nobel Laureate [1997] and so much more - who died today at the age of 90.  I continued to read the work of Dario Fo and his wife, Franca Rame and it never failed to surprise me and make me think. As I've said before, the literature of the 20th century asked the questions but did not, usually, provide the answers and Dario Fo asked the questions that politicians, in particular, did not wish to hear.

A stationmaster's son from Sangiano [Varese, Lombardy], Dario Fo joined Mussolini's Repubblica Sociale Italiana army at 17, a fact that would haunt him in later life. When he did talk about it, he said that he had joined the only Italian army in which he could enlist so as not to be deported to Germany to work. There was also a theory that he joined to deflect suspicion from falling upon his family, who were partisans.

After studying at the Brera Academy in Milan, Dario Fo joined Rai as an actor and satirical scriptwriter. He and Franca Rame wrote sketches together but their material was so often criticised by the Italian equivalent of the British "establishment" that the couple abandoned television for the theatre, founding their own company. Fo's theatrical solo piece Mistero Buffo was famously declared blasphemous by the Vatican and became all the more renowned for that. Other internationally well-known pieces by Fo include Morte accidentale di un anarchico [Accidental Death of an Anarchist] and Non si paga! Non si paga! [Can't Pay, Won't Pay].

Two books by Dario Fo which I have enjoyed recently are La figlia del papa [a biography of Lucrezia Borgia] which I reviewed here and Dario e Dio, a long interview in which he expounds his ideas about God - or the lack of such a being.  I especially like a passage in which Fo says that the God of the Old Testament "demands tests of love that not even a Sicilian ... [would expect]."

To a man who never stopped fighting, questioning, campaigning, surprising and making us laugh, I would like to say, "Thank you".

Dario Fo died on the day it was announced that Bob Dylan is to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. I think he would have approved.

In this Apple advertisement from 1997, Dario Fo narrates and Bob Dylan makes an appearance among the innovative thinkers of the last century:  

Video courtesy of La Stampa

SABATO MUSICALE - PER FRANCA

This week's sabato musicale is dedicated to Franca Rame, the great actor, playwright and political activist, who died, at the age of 84, on Wednesday.

I was a young Italian graduate when I discovered the theatrical works of Franca Rame and her husband, Dario Fo and I felt that they spoke directly to me and for my generation. It has often been written that the literature of the twentieth century asks the questions rather than providing the answers but Franca Rame had some answers, too;  among them were being politically vigilant, questioning the policies of every political party and never giving up hope.

As the Mayor of Milan said at Franca Rame's lay funeral,

"She had the greatness of one who dreams and one who fights."

Franca Rame fought tirelessly for women and, some years after being abducted, tortured and raped by fascists in 1973, she courageously told her story in a monologue entitled Lo Stupro [The Rape], thus encouraging other Italian women to speak out against this most horrific of crimes. [ Rape was designated "an act of violence against women" in Italian law only in 1996].

At the funeral Dario Fo recited an unpublished monologue written by his wife:  in this story, Eve appears on earth not fashioned from Adam's rib but modelled by God in fine clay. When God asks the couple to choose between the fruits of immortality and the apple, Eve says,

"Just to have consciousness, consciousness, doubts and to experience love - come, death!"

Adam echoes her, saying,

"I have some doubts but I am very curious to discover the mystery of love, even if immediately afterwards I meet my end."

Dario Fo and Franca Rame's son, Jacopo, said, at the funeral,

"Dinosaurs are extinct and people with no love or respect for humanity will become extinct one day too.....I want you to go home with a little faith because, as my mother said, 'God exists and is a communist.' I would add that she is also female."

As Franca Rame had requested, women wore red and sang the partisan song, Bella Ciao at the funeral.  I would like to add my own thanks for the life and work of Franca Rame.

MEETING IN CATANIA

It was a great pleasure to meet my twitter friend, the catanese actress Nellina Laganà, in person in Catania yesterday.

Nellina has appeared in many plays and films, including L'Onore e il Rispetto, parte seconda and the Commissario Montalbano film, Le ali della sfinge.  Here are some more photos of Nellina:

Here's to meeting up with you again soon, Nellina!

SABATO MUSICALE - MARIELLA LO GIUDICE

This was played by Nicola Piovani at the funeral of the great Catanese actress Mariella Lo Giudice on Wednesday:

Pippo Noviello - Era De Maggio

Mariella Lo Giudice died, at the age of 58, following a long illness.  Her courage and, above all, her smile, never deserted her, say her friends.

Hundreds of Catanesi turned out to bid farewell to "their" actress and they were joined by politicians, artists, fashion designers, musicians and representatives from the worlds of stage and screen in Italy.  I like the way in which, at funerals, Italians applaud a life well lived:

Arrivederci, figlia dei fiori



At the end of this clip, the narrator quotes this anonymous poem, L'Unica Via [The Only Way]:

Non si arriva ad una meta
se non per ripartire.
E là dove siamo ora
non è che una tappa del nostro cammino.
con la certezza che ogni sera
è la promessa di un'aurora.

Conta i fiori del tuo giardino
e mai le foglie che cadono.
Conta le ore della tua giornata
e dimentica le nuvole.
Conta le stelle delle tue notti 
e non le tue ombre.
Conta i sorrisi della tua vita,
non le lacrime.
E ad ogni compleanno
conta con gioia la tua età 
dal numero degli amici,
non da quello degli anni.

Che piccola cosa è una vita!
La mia, la tua, come tutte,
è una goccia.
E che si perda in un mare d'amore
perché è l'unica via,
altrimenti è una goccia sprecata:
troppo piccola per essere felice da sola,
troppo grande per accontentarsi del nulla.


Once you achieve your aim
you start out again,
And where we are now
is only a stage in the journey
with the certainty that every evening
carries a promise of dawn.


Count the flowers in your garden
not the leaves that fall.
Count the hours of your day
and forget the clouds.
Count the stars at night
and not your shadows.
Count the smiles in your life
not the tears.
And, on every birthday,
count your age joyfully
by the number of friends you have
and not your years.


What a small thing a life is,
yours, mine, every life.
It is a drop
that I'd like to lose in a sea of love
because it's the only way,
or else it's a wasted drop,
too small to be happy alone
and too big to be happy with nothing.


[My translation.]


Mariella Lo Giudice, 19.9.53 - 31.7.11

QUIZ: SICILIAN LITERATURE

SICILIAN LITERATURE » Quizes

I'd like to thank my local bookshop, Equilibri, for their kind help in compiling this quiz.

OPERA DEI PUPI

Sicilian Opera dei Pupi or puppet theatre has its origins in the Norman conquest of Sicily and the concept of honour. The tales are based on La Chanson de Roland, the later Reali di Francia and the later still Orlando Furioso. They mainly deal with the battles between Christians and Saracens though stories of saints, bandits and even versions of Shakespearian drama were all enacted in bygone days. Most sources date the tradition back to the 15th century though one or two suggest that it is older, possibly beginning in the 12th century. The main characters recognisable today are Ruggiero [King Roger of Sicily], Carlo Magno [Charlemagne], Orlando [Roland], Tancredi, the lovely Angelica and of course the stereotypical Saracen.

If you attend a performance it is often quite hard to work out what is going on as, although the tales are old, the puppet masters are quite free to interpret them as they wish, and there is a lot of puppet-blood-letting and shouting in dialect. However, you will know when to cheer as everyone can tell a “goodie” from a “baddie” and it is all great fun. As Vincent Cronin points out in The Golden Honeycomb, there was a time when every member of the audience would have been familiar with all the tales [Sicilians still are] and he rightly draws a parallel here with Greek epic and drama.

The puppets used in the Palermo tradition are quite different from those of Catania: Palermo puppets are 80 cm tall and their knees bend, the puppets being manipulated from the wings of the small “stage”. Catania puppets are 120 cm tall and their knees are rigid, so they are manipulated from above the stage. [Naples has its own tradition, too.]

The puppet theatres enjoyed their heyday in the 19th century but with the advent of literacy, cinema and, of course, television their popularity diminished. There are still families who make the puppets, though they are most often sold as souvenirs these days, and there are puppet theatres in various locations in Sicily, notably Siracusa. The International Marionette Museum in Palermo is well worth a visit.

I began this post by stating that “honour” is depicted as the most important virtue in the puppet plays: was it a short step, then, to the honour codes of the Mafia?

In the photo are my own three puppets that I bought on early visits here. [My Saracen unfortunately lost a foot, not in battle, but during the move.] “Welcome home” I said to them as I unpacked them two years ago.