It’s night. The noise of the waves is an indefinable game. The sea of youth seems to be returning. I’m in Giardini Naxos. In Sicily which refers to Aeneas. Etna is silent.
Greek whispers in the distance. An ice cream from Bronte has pistachios between its teeth. I will have to talk about Manlio Sgalambro between tradition and modernity. I should take notes. Preparing my report but it often happens to me that before a busy day and a profound conference I get carried away by oil and idleness.
Happens. I’ve read so much nonsense and written a lot that taking notes makes me tired.
I smoke and listen to the sea. Alone. I just attended a party. I walked in the archaeological area of Naxos.
I saw sculptures that talk about the myth. I have strange sensations. It’s as if I had Manlio next to me. Sensations or imagery. One cigar goes out and the other lights up. And vice? Habit. Disquiet?
Sgalambro walks towards Lentini and searches for the thoughts that have escaped from his pocket.
However, the wind brings waves that come from Greece and he, undaunted, searches for Gorgias hidden in the cave where he wanted to hide Elena…
But suddenly Anatol arrives and thinks it’s Siddartha or Zarathustra or Junger’s Aladdin but maybe it’s simply that “breakup of Hegel”.
At a certain point the voice of Schopenhauer who has just landed from India is heard and says: Gentlemen, the representation is tragic…
Nietzsche replies: You are crazy. If power is lacking, all will is in vain…
Ironic Manlio with the smile that says I invite you to the journey underlines:
You have made a big mistake. Everyone. We must look for the mystery in the variations of the whims of thought…
A scream is heard: Get out, get out… we are all systematic and ideas are phemenologies and if the epistema is not found everything will be burned in Marguerite’s fires…
Maria, Franz and Albert even come to Manlio’s aid… Zaambrano, Kafka and Camus…
Together they whisper: We will weave the words like threads of the moon and we will dance the dances of the dervishes and we will do a merry-go-round… Philosophy is destiny and not history…
Meanwhile there were echoes of music and on the island’s ready stand the white flag was hoisted and Povera Patria was sung…
The saltiness has a smell caught in the nets. The sea tells. Here everything is myth. History is invention and fictions are ghosts that intertwine memories. I know.
He who has lost his memories is lost. I would like not to be classified among them. Memory is sublime that is dressed in mystery.
What is destiny. An island within an island.
This evening I gave up on dinner. I found the excuse of preparing a report.
I hear Manlio’s hoarse and harsh voice again. He seems to be singing a pre-war song. It’s all so strange. Cioran you tell him: Kafka is the only truth and decides death. And Sgalambro: death is destiny. He borrows a phrase from my Caesar. And then he adds: Don’t try to change the fate of men. A voice slowly whispers: …the damsel dances in the king’s garden.
I take it all in by lighting another cigar. The last creed. Time passes but why does Manlius talk about a treatise on the age? Who will ever understand, the world is terrible and thoughts rot. Giardini Naxos has the sea everywhere. I found a wonderful woman. She is a curandera.
The shamans are now tired and dance in a circle. Beyond the last thread there is Greece. But Plato is an irreplaceable cave. I am tired. I’m going to sleep this evening at least. We’ll see tomorrow.
….
Pierfranco Bruni he was born in Calabria and lives between Rome and Puglia. He is a writer, poet, Italianist and literary critic, former archaeologist director at the Ministry of Culture. Expert in Mediterranean literature, he experiences literature as a model of religious anthropology. He has published several texts on Christianity in literature. His analytical style allows him to provide always new visions on literary, philosophical and metaphysical themes. He dedicated himself to the link between literature and fairy tales, literature and the shamanic world, languages and alchemy. He has published over 120 books, including poetry, non-fiction and fiction. He is president of the “Francesco Grisi” Study and Research Center. He holds institutional positions relating to the promotion of culture and literature. This year, by decree of the Ministry of Culture Mic, he was appointed President of the Commission for the awarding of the title of “Italian Book Capital 2024”. Furthermore, recent is theassignment always assigned by Mic Of Component ofJunta of the National Committee for the centenary of Eleonora’s death Duse (21 April 1914 – 21 April 2024) and national scientific director of Undulna Duse 100 Project.
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