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Monthly Archives: dicembre 2015


A proposito di una certa polemica…

…mi sono ricordato di un brano dell’antologia di inglese. Eccolo:


I say that a tourist in Italy, especially a hurried tourist as I am, can indeed have too much of a good thing — he can in fact have a surfeit of beauty and magnificence. Take the case of Michael Angelo. Buonarroti.

I used to worship the mighty genius of Michael Angelo (by the way, Italians call him Mickel Angelo) — that man who was great in poetry, painting, sculpture, architecture — great in every thing he undertook. But I do not want Michael Angelo for breakfast — for lunch — for tea — for dinner — for supper — for between meals. I like a change, occasionally. In Italy, all you hear from the guides is Michael Angelo. In Genoa he designed everything; in Milan he or his pupils designed everything; I had the impression he .even designed the Lake of Como; the same in Venice and Bologna. In Florence he painted everything, sculptured everything, designed every­thing, nearly, and what he did not design he used to sit on a favourite stone and look at, and the guides showed us the stone. In Pisa he designed everything but the Leaning Tower, and they would have attributed that to him too if it had not been so terribly out of the perpendicular. But in Rome — in Rome it is frightful. He designed St. Peter’s; he designed the other Basilicas and churches; he designed the Pantheon; he designed the uniforms of the Pope’s Swiss Guards; he de­signed the Vatican, the Tiber, the Coliseum, the Capitol, the Tarpeian Rock, the Barberini and the other palaces, the Trevi fountain, the Campagna, the Appian Way, the Seven Hills, the Baths of Caracalla, the Claudian Aqueduct, the Cloaca Maxima — the eternal bore designed the Eternal City, and unless all guides lie, he painted and sculptured everything in it. Enough! Enough! Let us say no more; let us lump the whole thing! Let us say that the Creator made Italy from designs by Michael Angelo!

I never felt so fervently thankful, so tranquil, so filled with blessed peace, as I did yesterday when I learned that Michael Angelo was dead.

Mark Twain