As have I travelled through Italy the last couple of days a recurring set of thoughts had gone through my head relating to the country's identity and how people shape the identity of countries and their reputations.
When I was at University studying Italian, I was truly in love with Italy - and all things Italian. The culture, the language, architecture, music, literature, Italian style, design, the cars and the food. There was nothing I didn't love. To say I was passionate about Italy would be an understatement.
My passion was tempered by reality when I came to live here - first in Florence for a few months and then later for a year in Padua where I went to University for a year.
To say I studied in Padua would be a slight untruth - as in fact the terms of my European Exchange scheme - Erasmus - meant that I had to follow only two courses to graduate the year and pass an exam in only one. I chose English Language (at which I did rather well until being kicked out of the class on a technicality - being English) and International Art House Cinema (only in Italy!). The cinema course - on which I was examined and gained 100%) involved watching a movie every Friday and then attending an optional tutorial / seminar. Tough gig. I did my exam on a Peter Greenaway film - I forget which one - but probably The Belly of an Architect or A Zed & Two Noughts.
Instead of studying I got use to Italian bureaucracy, hung out with girls a lot, travelled all over Italy on my motorcycle and on the train, spent nearly every weekend in Venice, ate a lot of great food, learned to cook better (to impress girls) and worked on my guitar playing. There all seemed to be very good things to do with my time and a valuable education in a young man's life. Much better than slaving over books in dusty libraries.
As my familiarity with the country and its people grew, my impression of Italy became more real, more concrete. My love remained, but became a love borne of knowledge and not just ideas and aspirations.
I moved to Greece shortly after my time in Italy (one of the girls I met in Italy was Greek - and at that age one follows one's instincts and to hell with the rest of it!) and my visits to Italy became sporadic for the next 20 years.
My love for Italy faded, but it always remained a place I was fond of, but not as fond as I became of the country that has been the love of my life - Greece.
Instead Italy became a love of memory - a Proustian collection of moments, events, feelings all washed over with a varnish of time and selective recollection.
This trip I reignited some of those memories but found myself seeing Italy through a prism of headlines and figureheads.
There is a great deal of truth in the idea that people who represent their country become icons and prisms for the view of that country. Their image shapes the image people have of their country.
Luciano Pavarotti, Valentino Rossi, Giacomo Agostini, Max Biaggi, Antonio Carluccio, Luchino Visconti, Roberto Rosselini, Federico Fellini, Marcello Mastroianni, Sophia Loren, Gina Lollobrigida, Zucchero, countless footballers etc. All endow Italy - or endowed Italy with its "brand essence". All reflected good or bad, their country and its people.
However today the face that is synonymous with Italy is its top political official, its holder of highest office, Silvio Berlusconi. Or perhaps better written as Silvio Burlesque-oni - for he really had brought the burlesque and worse to the country's highest office and political affairs.
A billionaire dictator with a problematic hair issue, a libido that cannot be quenched even by the youngest most sordid prostitutes, a business background that keeps several law firms busy 24/7 and an attitude that shames the people he represents - and yet, he is an ELECTED official. The democratic process in Italy has seen him elected repeatedly - only to bring more shame on his country and his office and now, to ruin the economy.
It is sad that Italy's beauty, cultural contribution, spirit and joy can be marred by one man's image and reputation - but it is not an overstatement to say that it has been and is.
Corruption, graft, nepotism, gangster like behaviour - I suppose they have always been associated with Italian politics and the tumultuous post war succession of governments - but previous PMs were discreet and did not publicly exemplify so strongly these faults. Giulio Andreotti - involved with the mafia and murder on a large scale - was a quiet little man and didn't attract the headlines that Silvio does. And didn't bring nearly as much shame on his country until the end of his time.
Italy is still a great country - but it really is time for a new leader who will represent the good that Italy has and not the bad.
Time to get rid of the walking, talking hard-on with a bad wig, worse morals and an arrogance that is astounding. He's not a leader - he's a caricature. And not a very nice one.
And on that happy note - I am about to board the boat to Greece! Hooray!
When I was at University studying Italian, I was truly in love with Italy - and all things Italian. The culture, the language, architecture, music, literature, Italian style, design, the cars and the food. There was nothing I didn't love. To say I was passionate about Italy would be an understatement.
My passion was tempered by reality when I came to live here - first in Florence for a few months and then later for a year in Padua where I went to University for a year.
To say I studied in Padua would be a slight untruth - as in fact the terms of my European Exchange scheme - Erasmus - meant that I had to follow only two courses to graduate the year and pass an exam in only one. I chose English Language (at which I did rather well until being kicked out of the class on a technicality - being English) and International Art House Cinema (only in Italy!). The cinema course - on which I was examined and gained 100%) involved watching a movie every Friday and then attending an optional tutorial / seminar. Tough gig. I did my exam on a Peter Greenaway film - I forget which one - but probably The Belly of an Architect or A Zed & Two Noughts.
Instead of studying I got use to Italian bureaucracy, hung out with girls a lot, travelled all over Italy on my motorcycle and on the train, spent nearly every weekend in Venice, ate a lot of great food, learned to cook better (to impress girls) and worked on my guitar playing. There all seemed to be very good things to do with my time and a valuable education in a young man's life. Much better than slaving over books in dusty libraries.
As my familiarity with the country and its people grew, my impression of Italy became more real, more concrete. My love remained, but became a love borne of knowledge and not just ideas and aspirations.
I moved to Greece shortly after my time in Italy (one of the girls I met in Italy was Greek - and at that age one follows one's instincts and to hell with the rest of it!) and my visits to Italy became sporadic for the next 20 years.
My love for Italy faded, but it always remained a place I was fond of, but not as fond as I became of the country that has been the love of my life - Greece.
Instead Italy became a love of memory - a Proustian collection of moments, events, feelings all washed over with a varnish of time and selective recollection.
This trip I reignited some of those memories but found myself seeing Italy through a prism of headlines and figureheads.
There is a great deal of truth in the idea that people who represent their country become icons and prisms for the view of that country. Their image shapes the image people have of their country.
Luciano Pavarotti, Valentino Rossi, Giacomo Agostini, Max Biaggi, Antonio Carluccio, Luchino Visconti, Roberto Rosselini, Federico Fellini, Marcello Mastroianni, Sophia Loren, Gina Lollobrigida, Zucchero, countless footballers etc. All endow Italy - or endowed Italy with its "brand essence". All reflected good or bad, their country and its people.
However today the face that is synonymous with Italy is its top political official, its holder of highest office, Silvio Berlusconi. Or perhaps better written as Silvio Burlesque-oni - for he really had brought the burlesque and worse to the country's highest office and political affairs.
A billionaire dictator with a problematic hair issue, a libido that cannot be quenched even by the youngest most sordid prostitutes, a business background that keeps several law firms busy 24/7 and an attitude that shames the people he represents - and yet, he is an ELECTED official. The democratic process in Italy has seen him elected repeatedly - only to bring more shame on his country and his office and now, to ruin the economy.
It is sad that Italy's beauty, cultural contribution, spirit and joy can be marred by one man's image and reputation - but it is not an overstatement to say that it has been and is.
Corruption, graft, nepotism, gangster like behaviour - I suppose they have always been associated with Italian politics and the tumultuous post war succession of governments - but previous PMs were discreet and did not publicly exemplify so strongly these faults. Giulio Andreotti - involved with the mafia and murder on a large scale - was a quiet little man and didn't attract the headlines that Silvio does. And didn't bring nearly as much shame on his country until the end of his time.
Italy is still a great country - but it really is time for a new leader who will represent the good that Italy has and not the bad.
Time to get rid of the walking, talking hard-on with a bad wig, worse morals and an arrogance that is astounding. He's not a leader - he's a caricature. And not a very nice one.
And on that happy note - I am about to board the boat to Greece! Hooray!
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