The Trumpet Sound, à la Française

An Insightful Blog from Renaissance

Michel de Montaigne writes in his Essays, a real thoughtful blog from Renaissance (one could say):

“I can see that these writings of mine are no more than the ravings of a man who has never done more than taste the outer crust of knowledge (…) and who has retained only an ill-formed generic notion of it: a little about everything and nothing about anything, in the French style.”

He then provides us with some information on his background:

“(…) I do also know how the sciences in general claim to serve us in our lives. But what I have definitely not done is to delve deeply into them (…) I have fashioned no sustained intercourse with any solid book except Plutarch and Seneca (…). My game-bag is made of history, rather, or poetry, which I love, being particularly inclined towards it;”

And here follows a vivid depiction of poetry effectiveness:

“For (as Cleanthes said) just as the voice of the trumpet rings out clearer and stronger for being forced through a narrow tube so too a saying leaps forth much more vigorously when compressed into the rhythms of poetry, striking me then with a livelier shock.”

(I am using the Penguin Classics edition, 2003, I:26, with its outstanding translation by M. A. Screech)

Good old Montaigne, writing openly and honestly about everything regarding life and man, from small trivia and anecdotes to truly deep meditations. His words are simple yet profound and personal. I love to browse randomly into his pages where one can read thousands of insightful passages, like the ones above that hit me yesterday.

Dear old Montaigne, a true magister for meditation (and consolation). A man of the street of the French Renaissance (well, I am exaggerating, he was cultured, well-off and retired to his castle lol). A French country intellectual in some way (he was not a Paris man) and his essays so damn close to a Renaissance blog which was continuously rewritten and constantly in progress. He in fact always gets back to his writings: why a blog, from the Renaissance or from today, should be thrown down instinctively? (I know many readers will not agree; I am also wavering between these two approaches).

He makes use 1) of French as the general medium and neutral language (French is sometimes a bit neutral, I’ll admit), 2) of the Guascon dialect for the most colourful passages, and finally 3) of Latin (mainly quotes) for the most noble themes.

Of course what also attracts us is his good choice of the ancient, classical Western philosophers, he being in fact such a gold mine of information about the Stoic, Skeptic and Epicurean thoughts, the ones we have some preference for (among the rest).

But he is not only that. Since he is a little about everything and nothing about anything: à la française.

Man of Roma

The Most Unique is the Most Universal

Days ago I was talking with a friend about this blog. This guy is very sharp-minded and he is always looking north and west, i.e. always relating to Northern Europeans and USA while his attitude towards other parts of the world is not very open-minded in my view. I told him I of course liked the West too but my blog having like a will of its own kind of brought me to the Far East and to a continuous dialogue with Indians and Chinese. He said: “How can you connect to your deep Roman roots while interacting all the time with Indians, Chinese etc., folks very different from Romans, Italians and Europeans? It is a contradictory behaviour.”

I tried to explain to him that if I am able to rediscover my heritage thence I am also able to bring a contribution to others who are diverse and that this process is two-ways, i.e. the same thing can happen at the other side of dialogue. He didn’t sound very convinced. So I remembered a passage by a great Indian thinker. I hope this quotation can help me explain this interesting point a bit.

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, Indian philosopher and statesman, wrote in Living with a Purpose (Orient Paperbacks, New Delhi, 1976, p. 9-10):

“Great classics of literature spring from profound depths in human experience. They come to us who live centuries later in vastly different conditions as the voice of our own experience. They release echoes within ourselves of what we never suspected was there. The deeper one goes into one’s own experience, facing destiny, fighting fate, or enjoying love, the more does one’s experience have in common with the experiences of others in climes and ages. The most unique is the most universal. The dialogues of Buddha or of Plato, the dramas of Sophocles, the plays of Shakespeare are both national and universal. The more profoundly they are rooted in historical traditions, the more uniquely do they know themselves and elicit powerful responses from others. There is a timeless and spaceless quality about great classics.”

“Kalidasa is the great representative of India’s spirit, grace and genius. The Indian national conciousness is the base from which his works grow. Kalidasa has absorbed India’s cultural heritage, made it his own, enriched it, given it universal scope and significance. Its spiritual directions, its political forms and economic arrangements, all find utterance in fresh, vital, shining phrases. We find in his works at their best, simple dignity of language, precision of phrase, classical taste, cultivated judgement, intense poetic sensibility and fusion of thought and feeling …. his works belong to the literature of the world. Humanity recognizes itself in them though they deal with Indian themes. In India Kalidasa is recognized as the greatest poet and dramatist in Sanskrit literature … Tradition associates Kalidasa with King Vikramaditya of Ujjayini who founded the Vikrama era of 57 B.C.”

Note. I am happy I could quote this passage. Radhakrishan has been my Indian philosopher since the first time I went to India. A great author and an excellent bridge between Eastern and Western thought. Wikipedia says “he wrote books on Indian philosophy according to Western academic standards, and made Indian philosophy worthy of serious consideration in the West”. Western-centric sentence, but interesting.

What I mean is that Radhakrishan’s inspired words can further explain (and somewhat be linked to) some ideas expressed in this blog plus explain the apparent contradiction my friend told me about. Let us try some mental linking then.

1) In my first introductory post I had written:
“I hope on comments from Western and non-Western people, since Rome and the Romans have a mediation nature that comes from the Mediterranean.”
“It is a great privilege to be born and be raised here [in Rome]… to the extent that something must have penetrated, something peculiar and worth to be transmitted, in order to be able, in our turn, to receive.”
“In this blog fragments of this special [Roman] identity are inserted in a bottle and sent through the WWW….”

3) In xntricpundits‘ nice blog (closed by WordPress, don’t know why) I was attracted by this quote taken from Jiddu Krishnamurthy’s works: “When you call yourself an Indian or a Muslim or a Christian or a European, or anything else, you are being violent. Do you see why it is violent? Because you are separating yourself from the rest of mankind … a man who is seeking to understand violence does not belong to any country, to any religion, to any political party or partial system…he is concerned with the total understanding of mankind ”. I commented: “Violence is horrible but ….to me humanity is too abstract: all of us have different roots, how can we forget these roots? I am writing here not because you are just mankind, but because you are Indian …”. Of course Krishnamurthy’s passage was focusing on tackling violence engendered by diversity.

4) In another post we had underlined the importance of reading good books and the fact that classics of literature were the best companions. Plus in Poonam’s blog (a very good place where - among other things - she fights against what she thinks is socially wrong in India, like people exploited because considered not pure) I had commented on a long list of books she provided (How Many Books Have You Read? ) and made a comparison between Joyce and Dante. This guy (or woman?) told me: “it is unfair on your part to compare two authors of different era..”. Poonam’s post on books contains a lot of discussion. I wish her really all the best, because she is a good example of young India fighting for a better future.

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Force & Anger. Ghosts in the Mind

Do you have a problem?

Sometimes people when they have a problem - any problem: love, career, friends, family, real shyness, health etc. - they can get depressed, they can remain passive and do nothing. Other people instead react and, trying (even desperately sometimes) to do something about it, they finally find some strength and re-act, or act, in a way or another.

Of course the result of this re-action can either engender the solution to their problem or, as a possible alternative, a problem which is even worse, not to mention total failure or disaster (this though being not the point altogether).

Ok, I know I am making it simple but, from what I just said, strength could be such an important ingredient in one’s life success (Country philosopher would phrase: “no doubt about it, really no doubt about it.” I think you’ll soon meet him, you’ll have to lol, like also you’ll meet Extropian, another extremely peculiar person, no doubt. Ok. Back to the point now).

Strength of Mind, plus Action

In fact strength is so important, I can tell you by experience. No matter your intelligence, no matter even your big qualities, if you are not provided with some strength of mind to encounter problems (or danger) with firmness, if you are not provided with some sort of personal bravery, even powerful intellectual processing abilities might not help much. Quite the contrary, they might be an extra weakness making you a flop. Here’s one theoretical example.

Even a perfect intellect though spending its time thinking thinking thinking only (and not acting with bravery of mind), it’s almost sure to reach its exact opposite, i.e. total imperfection in life, which can have many names: frustration, implosion, deep sorrow or depression, overthrow, pippe mentali (= intellectual onanism, though more … vulgar), stalemate. Failure, in short.

The world is full of gifted people that are total flops because they’re cowards and forceless , I know too well, many of my failures (apart from some successes) being engendered by flaws where lack of courage was not seldom part of the happy bunch. And of course, one being a flop means being partially or totally impeded to fulfil one’s dreams of happiness: in family, career, love etc.

I would add (since we are all bloggers here) that even writing-thinking too much can sort of devour itself and make the writer stop writing altogether. This for example happened to me with musical composition: too much loved, too much adored thus devouring itself, thence failed (or flopped, if you prefer).

Find Courage Inside. Magister

Given strength is such a good quality we should all possess, one might ask: how can we possibly attain it, in case we’re totally deprived of it? Hard question. I can tell what Magister used to tell us, probably referring to great Italian thinker Antonio Gramsci:

“Anyone of us can find all the force he needs, a tremendous force, only if he really t-r-i-e-s, no matter his gender, nation, age, instruction, religion (or non-religion). No Gods helping, no religion helping. Only our complex human nature helping (or genes, if you prefer).”
Of course I am making his words a bit … exuberant since he lectured us with his robust, crystal-clear style that imprinted his ideas on us vigorously, more and more.

“Sometimes one needs to be really cornered to discover this tremendous bravery we all can have - he kept saying. “Sometimes one actually needs to feel in danger. Oh yes - Magister sounded now merciless, his voice raising - oh yes! Only in real danger one is able sometimes to stand up with one’s balls firm, face things, and FIGHT!”
My g-o-o-d-n-e-s-s. We were so STUNNED and couldn’t but keep staring at him totally wide-eyed.

(ManofRoma’s note: balls were a metaphor, thence also women, gays & lesbians, any being (ants too?)’ when cornered, must necessarily have balls (palle, coglioni) in order to fulfil survival primeval instinct).

I will also add this sublime example of outstanding Victorian Kipling’s Rikki-tikki-tavi baby mongoose, fighting and winning even over dreadful adult female King cobra. Yes, baby mangusta won because cornered (and out of love for the British humans she/he lived with, though mangustas’ behaviour I have no idea about).

So let us make use of this potential courage we all have inside in order to face things and act. Let us, in other words, fight for a better life - personal or collective, it is the same.

Of course, dear reader, this post is also pretty personal, since I am living a hard moment, so, again, I am trying to follow Magister’s example hoping to find this inner force and make use of all the personal bravery I am capable of.

Destructive Solution: aggressive Anger

Only, being very stressed these days, I am actually starting to make mistakes.

1) Excess. One mistake is letting excess and chaos prevail a bit. Not a big deal, since once I’m all right I’ll take care of it and tame it (hopefully).
2) Anger. The worst thing, and a by-product of Magister’s teaching maybe, which I though consider due only to age (or bad temper?). I mean, I feel such a great anger inside, together with this constantly re-lost re-found energy no doubt at my disposal now.

Why the hell am I angered? For personal reasons I will not tell and because I see my country (and Europe) not reacting well to challenges. I see people here in Italy, though full of intelligence and resources (such means my generation didn’t even dream of, same old song of course at each generation), looking basically unprepared, narrow-minded and provincial, not to mention Italians’ almost total ignorance of the whole world picture. I see UK and France fantasizing they still have great empires (or great world influence on their own), thus halting, in a way or another, European political unification. Oh this really drives me mad, especially the Brits’ behaviour, really so mad indeed (tending to condone French out of sentimental weakness, considering them probably the best fruit of Latin civilization).

This angry thing reminds me of an old man, long white hair, bald, dirty clothes though full of tremendous dignity I met 25 years ago in Pamplona, Spain (see picture above, taken from here). He told us two words in Italian in a bar, so I asked him: “How is government here in Spain?”. He suddenly changed his face expression and, looking at me with boiling rage, he roared: “Latrones! Latrones!” (Thieves! Thieves!). I was startled, plus I got worried for this poor fellow’s health.

2a) Made my Indians angry. First totally moronic consequence of destructive anger plus lack of concentration is that I have recently flooded my sweet Indian bloggers (Amith, Poonam, Ashish, Ishmeet etc.) with hard (not against them tho) and/or fussy comments which gave them the impression (not entirely vain?) that I wanted their blog space A-L-L for myself. GOD DAMN! This flooding was against Roman humanitas, which is basically respect for others (in this case others’ comment space). They might ban me from now on since, being all linked to one-another, one whisper can suffice to basically being excluded by the only readers I have (or the core of them). It would be though RIGHT, this punishment, because of this verbal abuse of mine that has no excuses, being a Roman, really no excuses at all.

One Big (well, small) Missile Against Ex-Victorians

2b) Stupid attack to Great Britain, i.e. second moronic mistake. Some time ago (15 days?) I found a high-brow English blog on politics, Westminster Wisdom (subtitle: “mind trained by academia into almost fractal subtlety”). It was ranked in Technorati as very high in authority (the highest, actually) plus this guy’s (or guys’) nick was Gracchi, which in Ancient-Roman history is the name of two brave brothers who decided to carry out a revolutionary state-land property reform (land to be given to small peasants) since Ancient Roman Res Publica was not so Publica (or public) after all, basically 200 clans (gentes) having ALL the riches (and lands) for themselves. These two brothers were in fact butchered by land-owners gorillas. Same old (selfish) story almost everywhere in the ancient world.

Wow, I said. I love this man since he loves the Romans & the common people like I do. Thence I started reading his blog with a pleasure which started diminishing the more I was realising how his high-brow British English (which I probably envied) was terribly hard to understand. My anger, while reading, kept surging surging: such fruitless sophistication (I thought), I had to read 3 times a long sentence to figure out the real content (was I just tired?).

You might say it’s because I am not mother-tongue. Of course I’m not, and I toil for every sentence I write. Although let’s face it. I read the Economist, Financial Times etc. all the time, I used to read many times over and over almost ALL Canterbury Tales (in modern English verse), almost ALL Pope, almost ALL Shakespeare, almost ALL Byron, almost ALL Milton, some Joyce etc. etc. (not to mention American-English stuff even more than British stuff, except English poetry, of course, which I adore) plus hundreds of historical & political etc. etc. British (and American) books. Additionally my anger was surging surging also because this guy dared to call himself Gracchi.

This Briton I mean dared to use a Roman name that since more than 2000 years always meant: with the common people! For the common people! Caesar himself, though from the noblest breed, wrote works even a baby could read and belonged to that Gracchian youth and all that democratic party that helped him to gain power. In ten minutes I was like the man in Pamplona, all rage, my pent-up grudge against Brits exploding - the ONLY real Trojan horse of Europe (forget the French).

Well, it didn’t explode, to tell you the truth. It unfortunately imploded inside my heart, probably making my life 2-3 years shorter, at least. I didn’t (and I don’t) nonetheless care a fuck about my health, being a modern citizen of Rome with all his couldn’t-care-less attitude, non ce ne frega riccamente un cazzo a noi romani. Though I did care, and was so angry, about this (after all poor and innocent) Brit guy’s blog. But rage is rage, so:

Vendetta is a dish
You have to eat so cold,
Oh yes, my fellow countryman,
so cold, cruel, perfidious.
Perfidious-Albion-like ah ah
perfidious-Albion-like ah ah ah ah

Such a silly poem actually - I love my silly English poems - though this one (among the silliest) might somewhat describe my feelings while so perfidiously I was about to prepare my missile against UK. Once my comment was completed - and well equipped after two painful hours of toil - BANG! I SHOT MY LEGIONS FORWARD probably feeling like Maximus Decimus Meridius did feel right in the moments preceding roaring Marcomanni Germans’ total annihilation, in Gladiator’s initial exciting movie battle.

Here is then my battle text:

“Your blog seems great to me, although a bit too sophisticated. Is this sophistication the essence of what you call academic? (I know this is not your thought). Trying not to be provocative I’m only disappointed.

I thought only French and Italian Academias (or their respective literatures) suffered from this illusion that sophistication of style immediately translated into quality of content, or from this aristocratic (id est corporative) disease that makes intellectuals more concerned about other intellectuals than about talking to a public. The natural consequence of this undemocratic attitude being of course that the world does not read our works any more.

Britain was such a happy exception. You did so much not only for the ‘public understanding of science’ but also for the ‘public understanding of humanities (and politics)’.

Where is Europe going if even the shepherds are getting lost….?

A man of the street of Rome

[downgraded to middle-brow status
(though proud of it),
whose ancestors were noble citizens of Rome
since at least 10 centuries]

Saturday, October 20, 2007 3:49:00 PM

The arrow was cruel, no doubt, and painted with subtle venom, especially if you think about his nick, Gracchi, and the fact that only 40 years ago sublime (and high-brow) Sir Bertrand Russel (together with hundreds of other high-brow British intellectuals) had the rare quality of being understood even by porters (or street cleaners, if you prefer). This dirty shot to Gracchi guy was in fact such a blow in my view that, thinking of it now, while writing, I am not so proud of it, no, I’m not so proud of it at all.

In any case my legions of words having been too quick for him (and too well organized, I’ll confess my silly pride), this poor decent Brit thus finally had to reply:

“Thanks TD (TD?)
Manofroma cheers for the praise. I’m sorry about the sophistication- I do write some simpler articles- but basically I write this for fun, so though I’ll try and be more concise in the future I suspect the subjects won’t change! I do think that there is a point in there- and I think TD (??) has found it for example- anyway thanks for visiting and sorry your visit disappointed you in some ways.”
Saturday, October 20, 2007 4:12:00 PM

Nice reply, after all, and his blog highly cultivated (and interesting) indeed, of a higher quality than mine, not many doubts about it. Ok, but then: total victory of Rome on UK? Oh no no, of course not. Great Britain always backfires. They’ll never give up, never, even during Alexandrian-style decadence lol. After 1 day, in fact, an anonymous comment came out:

“No no no don’t listen to manofroma’s incomprehensible post. There is absolutely nothing ‘too sophisticated’ about your writing – it is most lucid and precise. Stick exactly to what you are doing, it works beautifully! One of the few blogs out there that is consistently a joy to read.
Sunday, October 21, 2007 1:08:00 AM

Probably true, although, what if HE HIMSELF wrote that anonymous comment? There must be some reason why they are named Perfidious-Albion. Well, in truth, difficult to say whether the Romans were instead more honest, in their total brutality that spared nobody if they deemed it necessary. So hard to say. In any case, as far as Gracchi, I’ll never know if it was him to backfire (or someone else).

Truth painted with Sorrow. Ghosts (real)

The thing is, what the hell do I care, my dear readers. I was a wicked aggressive bastard, whatever the result of this ridiculous microscopic war of ideas between Roma and UK (who probably didn’t even notice this battle ever happened, and Rome, in any case, couldn’t care less, ah ah ah).
If you really want to know the truth, things are much more complicated. And they are not painted with venom, they are painted with sorrow…

… truth being I cannot but love Britain of course (I wouldn’t have toiled so much to learn its language decently enough; I wouldn’t listen so much to Sir Edward Elgar’s Victorian music, a bit too romantic for a Roman though providing this feel of greatness and imperial inspiration I needed while writing my most Roman posts, this introductory post to my blog, for example).

And the thing is I do not only love the Britons. I most of all love so much the people & the place I am departing from. Is it guilt that is making me aggressive, my departure though being not deprived of reasons and fairness? And (from guilt) is it a hating-myself <–> hating-beloved-others type of thing? Or is it just plain fear?

“Well, ok, this is personal stuff - one might say. “So, getting more practical, since we just know you are leaving, where the hell are you actually going?” Well, I’m going somewhere in the south close to Rome (only 30 min by train I get back to beloved historical centre), going to a place where I can watch the sea and our spectacular Mediterranean sunset reflecting on salty Mare Nostrum water, every day that is left to me, away from smog and chaotic traffic, away from big-city hectic pace, although, unfortunately, also away from all that I love unconditionally.

Thence one danger is approaching, ruthless. Ghosts from mind are about to attack. I feel they’re approaching and even if it is somewhat foreseen that doesn’t mean I am not scared, being totally alone, nobody waiting for me, now and in the future, I believe. This might be the final reason why I got so armoured, aggressive (and annoying). Mind ghosts, the real ones in my view (see post Ghosts from Asia), will make my life a lot harder, for a length of time whose duration I cannot predict. They are the ones really to be fought, not the Brits, certainly, whom how can I judge being they superior to Italians in many respects (not all respects though, really no doubt about it, oh yes). I will not judge them then though pls just allow me to strongly disagree with their stubborn, anachronistic (plus self-destructive) Trojanism.

I really do hope that love, harmony and joy will soon circle back in the life of everyone, me being though a natural born loner, as it always has been and as it will probably always be. I might lose my battle with ghosts and with fear. Even if at the end, really at the end:

When the unwanted Guest arrives …
I might be afraid
Or I might smile and say:
My day was good, let night fall.

(quote from Coelho’s quote in The Zahir, HarperCollins Publisher. Author unknown)

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