Ivecchi say that low Easter (22 March – 2 April) brings war and misfortune. We celebrate in a low key… it doesn’t leave you at peace. The parish priest and the bishop don’t want to hear about it: Easter is always a time of Resurrection and joy.
But a Catherine it’s at Peppino the low Easter of ’43 took the son away Pinuccio. Disbanded after the armistice of September 8th, killed by the Germans a few kilometers from the sea and from his home, in low Tavoliere. It was his father who found him after listening to an Italian soldier who told of his comrades who had escaped with him and of whom he had lost track (one of him was from those parts). Peppino goes looking and sees it “lying down with his hands crossed on his belly as if holding his stomach. His face sunk into the earth”. Remains “petrified like the stones that were his son’s bed”. He also lies down on the stones, “like when he welcomed his baby son into his bed.” He hopes a soldier will shoot him too. He longs for darkness, he is annoyed by the sun, which enters and exits the clouds.
A Michelangelo-esque piety with the father instead of the mother. And he talks to his son, thinks about the letters he would have liked to write to him. Let him know all the things he didn’t tell him. In three years only four letters. Neither he nor his son could read or write. “Silence binds a father to his son more than words… Fathers never speak to their children, mothers speak… they also give a voice to the father”. This was how it was in the peasant world. A world of gestures, glances, waits, silences.
Pinuccio he is now lying in the bedroom. Dressed all in black, with a black tie and white shirt with a floppy collar. His dress is his father’s, worn for the wedding.
“God does not know what it means to lose a child, in the prime of life. Yes I know – Peppino says to himself – he lost it too, but his son was resurrected. Pinuccio will not be resurrected, it is a fairy tale for the poor about the resurrection of the flesh and eternal life…”. “Low Easter” it’s a novel by Antonio Del Giudice from a few years ago.
Even in the heartbreaking “lament” of Iacopone da Todi, Mary does not think about eternal life, and when she sees Jesus on the Cross she rushes screaming that she wants to die hugging her son. There Passion of Mary under the Cross it is one of the most dramatic scenes of the “Funny Mystery” by Dario Fo, which collects popular medieval representations. Maria arrives out of breath, shouts, despairs. Jesus asks her to go away, it is painful for him to see her. “Don’t chase me away, Jesus! I want to die, Jesus!… Suffocate me and bury me in a tomb, alone in my son’s arms! …” Then he sees Gabrielthe angel of the annunciation: “Gabriele, Gabriele… Go back to your beautiful joyful sky… You are not used to it, Gabriele. In Paradise there are no noises, tears, wars, prisons, hanged men, raped women. There is no hunger, no famine, no children without smiles, no mothers overwhelmed by pain… Go away Gabriele…”. Mary under the Cross has been told countless times in painting, sculpture, literature, in sermons… But only the Gospel of John talks about her, for Matthew, Luke and Mark Mary is not under the Cross.
Pinuccio’s death has taken away Peppino’s strength… He always remembers the meeting with the soldier, the four-hour journey, if he had arrived earlier… He curses the fascists, the war… He will go to Rome to kill Mussolini. Then he doesn’t speak anymore. The doctor says he will pass. Caterina takes care of him and her other daughter Rita, she goes to work in the countryside… she is exhausted and resists. They had been peaceful together, two children born healthy and beautiful, two unborn, the rest is the mystery of a life, of mutual support, of thoughts never said… she feels she loves that man to the limit. One day the doctor notes: heart attack in a healthy person.
Then spring returns, the war ends, the community resumes its life,
the veterans return, and we go on a pilgrimage to Padre Pio…
None of us believe in low Easter. But what meaning do these days have for us? A week in which there is everything: apotheosis, persecution, betrayal, cowardice, public pillory, crucifixion… dignity, fear, solitude, humility, love, forgiveness… finally the resurrection. A friend from Foggia sent me a congratulatory message: “regenerating ourselves, rising again… is the hope of every Easter. Manfredonia rise again! A nice invitation. The trouble is that we are no longer able to distinguish good from evil… Good is boring, it is made up of daily gestures and actions… legality is boring… Democracy is tiring. You need flashy events, moments and things… You will remember a French philosopher: ‘man is made in the image of God. God is a creator and man is too, in art, in love, in revolution… He can change and regenerate’. It was ’68 and those words were beautiful. Unfortunately, man wants to imitate God’s creation, but he is only great in evil, in destruction. Manfredonia rise again! Happy Easter”.
