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Cecilia

Down from the doorway of one of those doors, and coming toward the convoy, a woman, whose appearance heralded a youth advanced but not spent, and there shone a beauty veiled and blurred, but does not hurt, by a great passion, and a fatal languor: the beautiful spring weather and a magnificent shining in the blood of Lombardy. His gait was weary, but not sagging, his eyes no tears Davan, though they bore signs of having shed many, the pain was in something of a peaceful and profound, which indicated a mind fully conscious and present feel it. But it was not the only aspect that, among so much misery, so particularly marked her out to pity, and revived in her the feeling now exhausted and recoup it ' hearts.
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She carried in her arms a child of perhaps nov'anni, who died, but all well arranged, with 'hair parted on the forehead with a white dress, as if those hands they had decorated for party promised a long time, and date for the prize. Neither took a rest, but upheld, sitting on one arm, his chest resting on his chest, as if she were alive, except that a hand as white as wax hung from one side, with some lifeless burden, and head rested on the humerus of the mother, with a stronger drop of sleep: the mother, that even if the similarity de'volti fact not many had faith, he would have made it clear that de 'two ch'esprimeva still a feeling.

A foul monatto levarle went to the baby from her arms, but with a kind of unusual when compared with involuntary hesitation. But she, drawing back, but did not show anger or contempt, "no," he said, "I do not touch it for now, I put myself on this car: take." So saying, she opened her hand, see a bag and dropped it in what the monatto held out. Then he continued: "Promise me not to take a thread around it, nor let any one else dares to do so and put it under ground."

The monatto began a hand to his chest and then, all caring, and almost deferential, more to the new feeling which was as subdued, for the unexpected reward, s'affacendò to make a little 'room on the car for the corpse. The mother gave this a kiss on the forehead, put there as on a bed, accommodation, the spread on a white cloth, and said the last words: "bye, Cecilia! rest in peace! Tonight we will come to rest together for ever. Pray for us in the meantime, I will pray for you and for others. " Then, turning round again to monatto, "you", he said, "pass this way in the evening, come to fetch me too, and not me alone."

So saying, back into the house, and, after a moment, looked out the window, holding in her arms another younger child, alive, but with the signs of death in the face. He stood to contemplate these so unworthy of the first funeral until the wagon did not move until it could see, then disappeared. And what else could do, if not the only Posar on the bed that was left, and put it next to die together? as the flower already blooming on the stem falls together with the flower still in bloom, under the scythe that draws all the grasses of the meadow.

Alessandro Manzoni, The Betrothed - Chapter XXXIV

See more The Evening Manzoni: Words from the past to interpret the present
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Letter Welcoming New Church Embers

Fear of Silence - Ilvo

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Yesterday I attended the funeral of a family friend. He left after a long and painful illness, for themselves and their loved ones. The church was crowded, given the date and time. In those countries, moreover, people you know well. The rituals that mark life and death are still followed. A sign of social cohesion. However, an attempt to replicate the community. At the end of the ceremony, as the coffin passed through the church, driven by necrofori, fire applause. Everywhere. Now, it belongs, also, the ceremony. It is a ritual. The applause after his death, the last stretch of trail before burial. Instead of the silence of the past: a long applause. Almost warm, to dampen the harsh climate. And gray. It's like there was more leniency for silence. Even in the face of death. No tolerance, even to sadness. Sopirla should quickly break the silence. With the applause. That, of course, feel the affection of family members present. But it is also and perhaps above all, to console others. Us. Unable to bear the silence and sadness. So immerses us in the middle and the roaring sounds. Anywhere and at any time of day. Even when you walk: the headphones and the iPod, insulated from others. Lost in the music that goes around.

death, the pain becomes acceptable only as entertainment. As is the case, for days, in the event of poor Sarah Scazzi. On which all wonder in front of the TV. Opening the newspapers. Any time of day. The death of others exorcised by turning it into a soap opera. An investigation noire, which assist millions of people live. Minute by minute. They enter the house of the Assassin - assumed. Peering into the faces of the relatives of the victims. Question the motives and movements. The "live death" (and - again - "deferred", as written by Aldo Grasso) allows anyone to exorcise death. The "spectacle of pain" allows anyone to exorcise the pain. Thus, television becomes the new land of remorse "(to quote Frank Merlo). Where's remorse is a weak and distant. A subtle sound amid the noise. Where the private pain raises concern. So is "staged" goes public. Exhibited in the midst of people who are, in turn, "the public". Thus, in church, at the end of the funeral, we applaud. For fear of silence. The show is over. Go in peace.

( October 21, 2010)

sleeves Ilvo Diamonds

See more Us. Unable to bear the silence and sadness.