The Pattern
I read a wonderful article by courier Gian Antonio Stella on the disappearance of "pietas" in our country, sacrificed for a world "image" and "decorum" which also increasingly likely to collapse on him. Do not forget that when fascism was coined the term "constitutional immorality" locked up in asylums for those who offended his own "dignity". I'm beginning to think that - beautifully aided by bad "people's representatives" and not a policy that looks beyond the fleeting appearance of the newspaper - we are becoming "more and more bad guys ... ..
[In defense of the left homeless in freezing
from Mestre to Genoa, the hard line with the marginalized. Stations closed at night, blankets denied, "Good"
(from the courier evening of January 9, 2009: http://www.corriere.it/cronache/09_gennaio_09/clochard_gelo_notte_gian_antonio_stella_5e27ecd4-de1e-11dd-a05b-00144f02aabc.shtml)
"Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head, "says Jesus in Matthew's Gospel. Yet not a day goes by in our (supposedly) very Catholic country without so many (so-called) Catholics with his mouth full of bellicose words in the name of the Catholic tradition a daily show contempt for those who had "nowhere to lay his head." An example? The police stop right to the volunteers who brought hot tea to the homeless refugees in the Mestre railway station: "I do not have permission."
FIERCE bureaucratic - worth chasing obtuseness resistance by the company Big Train to the Prefect that in these days of snow and ice, marked by the death of a homeless man in Vicenza, has had to face tough to get the Venetian porches of the two stations were no longer closed and barred from one night to five in the morning. What's most serene city, where the region has drastically cut over the past two years, aid to the homeless (which allocates a quarter of the amount allocated to the birthday parties of the Republic of Leon), however, is only the latest in a chain of events that mark a continuous and progressive indifference, if not impatience, towards the "end of the past. " Suffice it to recall the death of 'Babu' under the arches of the Teatro Carlo Felice in Genoa after the hasty operation 'clean' (or 'police'?) With which to Christmas Eve were thrown off the covers 'dirty' Give homeless by Caritas. Or the bravado of the four criminal thugs Rimini who set fire to a homeless man "out of boredom." Or maybe the motivation of the surreal fine of 160 euro date in late December by some policemen in the Florentine poor souls who spent the night in the open, "She slept so patently indecent."
DECORATION - "The decor! The decorum. " This is the objection that is raised. The same that drove the city of Verona, led Flavio Tosi, who insisted that the identity card of the "bums" were changed. First, under the heading "address", it said, "way to accept." A little understatement, a bit 'naive, not to the mark holder. Not now, "No address." For heaven's sake: we offer. But "behind", there is a whole philosophy. Increasingly stretched to keep well separated "us" and "them". More and more people are allergic to "ruin" the image of the city. Increasingly puffing towards the marginalized. Up to press time ago by the then mayor of Vicenza Henry Hullweck to ban begging for beggars with "hideous deformity." A definition that, beyond the faults of some fraudsters (to hit: obvious), it sounded obscene and offensive to all disabled. Yet, those "bums" that today give so much trouble in a society often indecent but snarling guardian of the fetish of "decency," are a part of our lives.
ALWAYS - the religious life, as recalled by the scene of St. Francis giving his cloak to a poor man of Assisi in the cycle of frescoes attributed to Giotto. Musical life, as we recall the stories of the organ grinder who walks barefoot in the snow, in The Winter Journey by Franz Schubert, without encountering those who put a penny in the hat or the Frugola that the cloak of Giacomo Puccini, is "perpetually intent to rummage in the trash. " Part of our literary life, from homeless Micawber in David Copperfield by Charles Dickens all'Andreas Kartack de The legend of the Holy Drinker by Joseph Roth up to the secret of Joe Gould, the brilliant intellectual Harvard graduate who had decided to live as homeless to discover the essence of man "between the cams, transfers, tuberculosis, bankruptcies, the broken promises, the eternal void," and in short, all those without homes, "the only ones among whom I have always felt at home" . Not to mention the film, Chaplin the Tramp irresistible to tender Miracle in Milan by Vittorio De Sica, from Archimedes to the homeless with Jean Gabin Bodou saved from the waters Jean Renoir's up to The Pursuit of Happyness, Gabriele Muccino, blessed with triumphs at the box office. Proven evidence of how many we can beat and move us and make a tear for the misfortunes of Copperfield and Will Smith, the court forced to live like a bum. It left the cinema dodge the drunk down on the sidewalk: "God, what stinks! '. Yet, the chronicles of these years have taught us to know a little 'more, our "holy drinkers." Often finished under the bridge, said the dossier, perhaps only because the state, having abolished the horror of the asylums, he forgot to find a decent alternative for those who do not make it to face alone the existence and have no family able to bear the burden. Or so overwhelmed by showers of life. Or upset by the betrayal of the people they believed. Or pinched by a pain too great.
Pirandello ODESCALCHI, Bobbi-People like Luigi Pirandello, who had long hair and beard, was of the same name of the writer whose father was a cousin, had studied, spoke English and French, but turned in the center of Rome pushing a cart where collected cartons. O Odescalchi Philip, son of Don Alessandro Maria Baldassarre, Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, the descendant of Pope Innocent XI, who fled in the early eighties the family palace in Piazza Santi Apostoli to go and live in the colonnade of the Palazzo Massimo together with a woman and a homeless man who always wore a tuxedo and bow tie, appeared as "Ele D'Artagnan, a film actor, son of the great Toscanini" and requested a meeting with all of Federico Fellini: "You must give me a good part in next film because then I decided that I retire. " People like Bobby Eugenia, who in his youth was a beautiful girl of Chioggia and had lost his head to an heir of Jose Echegaray y Eizaguirre, mathematician, playwright, politician, minister of Spain, awarded the 1904 Nobel Prize for literature. Widowed, she had let go. When he died, the newspapers wrote that "for thirty years had lived as a homeless person under the arcades of the Palazzo Ducale, between a marble bench and the fifth floor window, "who" spoke four or five languages, had an impressive culture in three decades and had never asked for alms, "and lived a bit of kindness' of noble women, the first among all the English Duchess of Alba and told: "In the theater, when I was young, all binoculars were trained on me." People who, for various reasons, they leave behind everything. And which, in addition to some covered in these days of frost, at least one thing we need: a little 'respect. Refuge from the cold station of Mestre
Gian Antonio Stella January 9, 2009]
0 comments:
Post a Comment