Crime and Punishment

I have been renown for opposing to death penalty as a method of crime punishment. Coming from a very long line of literary tradition, from Cesare Beccaria's "On Crimes and Punishments" to Alessandro Manzoni, Dostoevsky, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, I just cannot possibly bring myself to accepting that someone may ever take responsability to decide of somebody else's death, unless expressedly and informedly asked by that same person to do so. Even when it comes to horrific crimes such as paedophilia, I much rather impose life sentences, hard jail and chemical castration than death row. I have suffered over the years watching the executions in various so-called civil countries, but why is that that I often feel a satifying sigh of relief, the feeling one has at the end of an action movie when the good ones beat the evil. I have many reservations on the American war on terror, but I secretly rejoiced in seeing the footage of Saddham being executed. I feel ashamed of what the Nazi and the Fascists did in 1900, despised their brutal massacres and racist politics, yet stifled when I first came across the picture of Mussolini and his closest being hung upside down in a public square at the end of WW2. I cried when I saw Sudanese armies torturing women guilty of violating retrograde points of the Shia constitution. Knowing that Hitler had died in a house fire made me happy. So what is it that makes killing another right? What may be logical and just for me may not be for another and viceversa. All of a sudden it is like not being able to wish that the Joker may die at the end of "The Dark Night", because it is like, now, it is not only the evil Joker, but it is someone you have got to know and whose death you may not possibly wish any longer.

Is This England, or Not?

~Cultural Learnings of an Italian in Salford~

It is rather strange when people count as history the time and events of your life time. July 1983 is the opening title of last night's movie, "This is England".. paradoxically, this is also the month and year I was born in. If you liked movies in the likes of Trainspotting and Kes, you are most definitively going to enjoy this little gem of British cinematography. Set in a bleak East Midlands town in 1983, it focuses on the life of twelve-year-old Shaun to then kaleidoscopically expand to the Thatcher's government, deprivation, greasy spoons, dislocation, nationalism, skinheads, substances abuse, extremism, racism, violence, the Falklands, England in a compelling showcase of raw realistic acting talent. A side to England not all of us may want to align ourselves with that, crudely, is not the mere shadow of a forgotten past, long removed from us. On the contrary, the parallels with today's England are striking. Unemployment, deprivation and dislocation; loss of identity and an often ignorant, violent and abusive search for national values; a shady government and a country fighting a senseless war which does not belong to us. From the eye of a mere observer, drown into an active personage of a history that is not my own. This is part of the England of my next door British-Bulldog tattooed neighbours who call me 'Miss Bolognese' and ask me to cook for them every time they see me, of the British-Pakistani convenience store round the corner from my house, of my half Maltese florist; this is the England of the paper-round kid who puts through my door a BNP leaflet stating what the party stands for and with an invitation for me and my household (an Italian and a Spaniard at the time) to join them, of the teen-agers I work with and I still struggle to understand at times, of the PMT Chinese lady at the local fish 'n' chips, of those who have curry for tea and leave it all behind for a place in the sun. So, is this England or not? I often discuss with a particular friend of mine what defines Britishness. Like Italian-ness is not defined by loud, football fanatic, poetry-reading, sunglasses-wearing, hairy tanned voracious pasta devourers, I doubt Britishness is described by white ass, tattooed, drunken hooligans, 'stif-upper-lip' fish 'n' chips with mushy peas two bed-roomed red-brick terrace house dwellers ... so, then, what defines Britishness, what makes us who we are?

What Was Going on Last Night?

7-1 Man Utd vs Roma ... history was made.

Out With the Old and In With the New

With no need for ditching the past!

Yesterday something quite extraordinary happened. For those of you who know me, you will be aware of my utmost respect for the ancients and fascination with the cyclical view of history. Tucidide, the Athenian, wrote that history is a heritage, "a legacy for the forthcoming generations" and that,somehow, it always repeats itself. Hérodote optimistically wished that we would learn something from the past, but was ultimately convinced of the opposite: we make mistakes and,even though we may learn from them,we are gonna make them again. I was erroneously brought up with the unrealistic ideal that once you become a 'born again' Christian, your life is transformed radically to a point of near perfection.. Indeed, being 'born again' encompasses the awakening of the human spiritual dimension and the automatic rejection of the sinful nature; nevertheless, I later discovered, there are issues, struggles,weaknesses which will remain your fight until the day you die. The popular worship song which reads "the weakness that I see in me,will be stripped away by the power of Your Love" may actually be theologically wrong. God ain't gonna come and plunder you off of all of your imperfections and make you into an angel-like superhero over night! In the same hand, this is no condonation for sloppy religiosity. At times I can identify with the "Captives" series by Michelangelo Buonarroti. Beside the Sistine Chapel, la Pieta' and the David, there are a number of less spoken about works which i Prigioni, the Captives, are part of. Michelangelo believed that art was not to be created, but to be brought out of something already existing. He thrived in the dormant vitality of raw materials, masculine, rugged, dynamic personas awaiting to be woken up by the sapient hand of the artist..this credo was the cause of fierce confrontations with fellow art master, Leonardo Da Vinci, who, by contrast, believed that the artist is a creator, an inventor of life. Anyway, history of art apart, the Captives are a crude, passionate expression of wild exuberance screaming to come out. Likewise, I often feel frustration over the weaknesses of old which, for all of my endeavours, I don't seem to be able to shake off me - history repeating itself... I have recently shared about how my latest heartbreaks have been caused not only by the actual facts, but more so by bad experiences, baggage, I have been carrying around for way too long. That's when the really good stuff about Christianity comes out. Forgiveness; Grace. Forgiveness, which is not the equivalent of forgetting all about it, putting a plaster over it, let mommy kiss it better and happily pretend that nothing ever happened. No, forgiveness goes much deeper than that. It allows you to confront your own demons, turn ditches into wells whilst Grace, that wonderful gift of God who loved,loves and will always love us unconditionally, enables you to break free of the chains from the past and start afresh. Last night we broke the chains, send 'that old devil back to hell'. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound indeed. So out with the old crappy, tiresome bondage; in with a new future enlightened by many happy memories and meaningful friendships.

PS: Thanks Dave, you were right.

Love Your Land Appeal

I normally try to blog about emotions, social and envirolmental issues and exotic locations, but rarely have you heard me talk about my hometown, Napoli, Italy. The historical harbour of ancient civilizations, the "Campania Felix"(litterally, the 'joyful countryside') used to be the place-to-be, the a glam summer resort for prestigious Roman citizens and the inspirational muse of poets, songsmiths and artists from all over the world. Goes the saying "Vedi Napoli e poi muori",See Naples and then die,which summarizes the spirit and the enthusiasm that used to animate tourists visiting the beautiful partenopean city. Entering Naples one is immediately confronted by centuries of traditions which still cohabit to this day with extemporaneous dexterity. Naples, with its buildings and palaces,is some sort of open book:every monument is a piece of history that leads back to the various dynasties that have succeded in the government of the city. The Unesco has declared the urbanistic richness of Naples "heritage for humanity"...all good and sound...until you physically enter Naples (be it via air,rail or car) and the saying suddenly becomes closer to reality than you ever thought possible. Overwhelmed by a chaotic conglomeration of buildings, neglected roads, anarchic scooter riders and barbarian swearing monstrous car drivers, suspicious looking thugs selling drugs and contrabanded fags, ever-pregnant destitutes, dirt, smog and clandestine immigrants selling fake labelled fashion items and pirate media on the streets whilst oblivious police officers jauntly stand at the bar sipping expressos and puffing cigarettes,you nearly expect it to put your life to the risk. Call it the Italian way?! I am not sure. Often talking to my foreign friends they express admiring opinions on the Italian friendliness, easy-going,chilled life style..the noise,the chaos,the opulence adds up, in their view, to season the goodness of our food and land. I must say I do miss sitting outside of my favourite cafe by the seaside overlooking Castel dell'Ovo and the Marina on a sunny afternoon drinking Hazelnut coffee or eating ice-cream..but it frustrates me no end to see how lack of general basic civic responsability has led to the ultimate deterioration of such a charismatic city. Inspired by J-Mac's post,I was debating with my dad and some of his middleclass mid-forty intellectual male friends the other night and they aggressively responded to my "friends-of-the-earth" approach to life with the stereotypical "why do we bother making any efforts when the USA and China are polluting the globe" - which is an understandable and very logic, but if we don't take personal responsability for ourselves, how is anything,even the big government policies,going to change?! I have had a very conflictual love/hate relationship with Naples for years,but that is not because I don't appreciate my origins. I simply detest the attitude of the Neapolitas which has turned an earthly paradise into a ghastly place. Coming back to my title,my appeal is a call to the napoletani to get off their lazy arses,to get active,fierce and determined to retrive the beauty within our magical city and to my foreign readers to visit Napoli: for info, ask me,anytime,there are some magnificent, breathtaking scenaries, artefacts, architectural masterpieces and naturalistic wonders to see, the food is the best in the world and there are things to experiences that will awe your memory for the rest of your longevity! And,of course,I am Neapolitan,what else could you ask for!?!(",)