L'Italo-Americano

www.italoamericano.org 13 L'Italo-Americano IN ITALIANO | GIOVEDÌ 24 GENNAIO 2019 SOCIETÀ & CULTURA PERSONAGGI TERRITORIO TRADIZIONI ANTHONY DI RENZO R omans rarely make New Year's resolu- t i o n s , e x p l a i n e d Cardinal Antonelli, H i s H o l i n e s s t h e Pope's Secretary of State. Rome never changes, so why should they? Professor Longfellow, the American poet and translator of Dante, nodded. The city was e x a c t l y a s i t h a d b e e n f o r t y years ago during his last visit. T h e c a r d i n a l s m i l e d , t o o k a pinch of snuff, and said, "Yes, thank God." The two men sat in the cardi- nal's study on the Quirinal, but o n e v e r y h i l l , P r o f e s s o r Longfellow reported, the same refrain was heard: "Rome never changes." Granted, she is the Eternal City, but there is a dif- ference between eternal life and e t e r n a l d e a t h . O n t h i s g r e y , rainy January day, the streets w e r e a l l m u d , a n d t h e r o o f s were all mold. A pall of mist hung over the lower town. Like King Lear, Rome wandered on a heath, crowned with weeds. His Eminence wagged a fin- g e r . L e t u s n o t s u c c u m b t o metaphors. Still, he conceded, Rome was too sleepy for her own good. The telegraph and s t e a m e n g i n e , w h i c h h a d intrigued his master, Pius IX, had not altered the city's pas- toral character. Rome remained an immense farm in the middle o f a g r e a t p l a i n . E a c h y e a r , before malaria ravaged the cam- pagna, wheat was harvested, transported, and stored in town. Cows, sheep, and goats were herded through the streets. The smell of dung was stronger than incense. Longfellow related a conver- sation with the Duke of Sermon- eta's nephew: "As a stranger, signor, you can't know how sti- fling it is here. People leave town simply to breathe." Life lies north, the young man had said. Florence teemed with pub- lishing houses. Milan, a great, roaring, industrial city, had fac- tories and a stock exchange. G e n o a ' s p o r t w h i s t l e d a n d throbbed like Boston Harbor. What was Rome, by compari- son? A barn and a tomb. Cardinal Antonelli laughed. Never ordained a priest, he was too worldly and too intelligent to deny political reality. Cer- tainly, discontent existed. The revolution had raised expecta- t i o n s . B o m b a r d e d b y p u b l i c opinion and crackpot ideas from t h e r e s t o f I t a l y , R o m e w a s beleaguered but stood firm, a fortress built on the indestruc- tible foundation of Peter's rock. But even if faith should fail, i n e r t i a w o u l d t r i u m p h . T h e bourgeoisie were pantaloons. So long as their slippered feet were toasted by the fire, they would ignore the ringing in their ears. Events proved the cardinal wrong and right. When Turin captured Rome, many things changed. The civil government shuttered convents, confiscated oratories, and abolished church p o m p o u t s i d e t h e V a t i c a n . Bersaglieri, with wide-brimmed hats crowned with black grouse feathers, replaced harem-panted Zuavi Pontifici. Bookstalls mul- tiplied and sold other papers b e s i d e s t h e O s s e r v a t o r e R o man o . F r iar s d is ap p ear ed because their begging offended shoppers. Cardinals no longer strolled on the Pincio and were rarely seen around the Lateran. When t h e y d e s c e n d e d f r o m t h e i r coaches, now painted black and draped in mourning, their lifted cassocks revealed a mere flash of scarlet stockings—all that remained of their former splen- dor. The dandies peacocking in Piazza Novona hardly compen- sated for Rome's loss of color. And yet the city was essen- tially the same. Tourists still admired sunsets from the top of the Janiculum. Carriages still r o a d u p t h e t r e e - l i n e d l a n e avenue to Santa Maria Mag- giore. Lovers still explored the cork woods on Monte Mario. Although models had been ban- ished from the Spanish Steps, foreign artists still gathered at C a f f é G r e c o . M i l k m e n s t i l l t e n d e d g o a t s i n P i a z z a Flaminio. Pigs still snuffled acorns outside the gates. And, of course, taxes were still high, l a w s w e r e s t i l l c r u e l , a n d bureaucrats were still ineffi- cient. But this was two years in the f u t u r e . F o r n o w , P r o f e s s o r Longfellow left the Quirinal Palace and returned to his suite in the Albergo Costanzi. The rear windows looked across the campagna to the Alban Hills. In f r o n t , R o m e u n r o l l e d l i k e a p a n o r a m a , c r o w n e d b y S t . Peter's. The professor, however, was too depressed by his talk to enjoy the view. Standing before a mirror, he washed his face in a basin and groomed his beard. He grew it eight years ago, after the tragic death of his second wife. She had set herself on fire while sealing an envelope with hot wax. Longfellow had stifled the flames with his body but failed to save her. He burned his face so badly that he stopped shav- ing. White as the Brescia marble o f t h e V i t t o r i a n o , t h e f u t u r e tomb of King Victor Emanuel, t h e b e a r d h a d t r a n s f o r m e d Longfellow into a venerable fig- ure. Admirers claimed that it represented his vita nuova, his n e w l i f e a s A m e r i c a ' s m o s t b e l o v e d p o e t . B u t t h e s c a r s remained, and he was secretly addicted to laudanum. As Cardi- nal Antonelli said before they p a r t e d , c h a n g e c o n c e a l s b u t never heals the past. P a s q u i n o ' s s e c r e t a r y i s Anthony Di Renzo, professor of writing at Ithaca College. You may reach him at direnzo@itha- ca.edu. Roma, dove il passato ed il presente si mescolano, al punto di non distinguerne più i confini © Anna Hristova | Dreamstime.com La vita di Roma, fatta di abitudini passate, che rimangono moderne © Julie Mayfeng | Dreamstime.com Roma Non Cambia Mai Pasquino medita sul cambiamento

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