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Old Calabria

Chapter 8 BY THE INLAND SEA

Word Count: 4156    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

nd then turns away. Old Taranto glimmers in lordly fashion across the tranquil waters; a se

ere I was told to wait, a slender young priest was praying rapturously before some image, and the clock that stood at hand recorded the flight of twent

there was another one, almost a ruin, and now converted into a refuge for a flock of poor old wo

he remarked, wi

ian," I gent

re--a Pre

tonishing, he said. He would look up the subject without delay. The flying monk! That a Protestant should come all the way from "the other end of th

ace of which Rossi speaks. He calls it Grot-tole (the difference in spelling would be of little account), and says it lies not far distant from Copertino. But there may be a place of this name still nearer;

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fuge during Saracen raids. This I already knew, from the pages of Swinburne and Sanchez; and in my turn was able to inform him that a certain Frenchman, Bertaux by name, had written about the Byzantine wall-paintings within these caves. Yes, those old Greeks! h

the monks may have cultivated their fruit and vegetables; round this court there ran an arched passage, its walls adorned with frescoes, now dim and faded, depicting sacred subjects. The monastery itself

ioners flitting round me like bats in the twilight. I peered into many d

, that even now, after entire years, the walls of his cell and other places of retirement are discoloured and actually encrust

l silvery under the immaculate sky of noonday and bounded by the sapphire belt of the Ionian. Sunshine and blue sea! Often must the monks have taken pleasure in this fair prospect; an

citizens had assemb

e Inl

Inlan

tigations in the light of a good joke; they had heard of begging monks, and thieving monks, and monk

say--with an air of grave authority. "Believe me, d

to be, for

. It is as if he had never existed. On the contrary, by a queer irony of fate, the roadway leading past his convent evokes the memory of a misty heathen poet, likewise native of these favoured regions, a man whose name Joseph of Copertino had assuredly ne

nnio.

moment, may be nearer to our ideals and aspirations th

ars hence--w

e for entering the train without one (return tickets, for weighty reasons of "internal administration," are not sold). I looked at my watch, which showed that we had left six minutes before the scheduled hour. He produced his; it coincided with my own. "No matter," he said. "I am not responsible for the eccentricities of the

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id bubbles up in pools of crystalline transparency--deep and perfidious cauldrons overhung by the trembling soil on which you stand. These fountains form a respectable stream some four hundred yards in length; another copious spring rises up in the sea near its mouth. But ca

nary was evidently ignorant of the fact that so long ago as 1771 the learned commentator (Carducci) of the "Delizie Tarentine" already sneered at this popular etymology; adding, what is of greater interest, that "in the time of our fathers" this region was covered with woods and rich in game. In the days of Keppel Craven, the vale was "scantily cultivated w

--a curious epithet, still applied to water in Italy as well as in Greece (Mavromati, etc.). "For me," says Gissing, "the Galaesus is the stream I found and tracked, whose waters

o along the shore of this inland sea. Its clay banks are full of

ns of G

Inlan

eed, if you look at a map you will observe that the whole of this lagoon, as though

phous bundles of hay. There is a smack of the stone ages, of primeval lake-dwellings, about these shelters on the deserted shore; two or three large fetichistic stones stand near their entrance; wickerwork objects of dark meaning strew the ground

lling have remained unchanged. Some people have detected traces of "Greek" in

ly latinized under Augustus, and though Byzantines came hither under Nicephorus Phocas--Benjamin of Tudela says the inhabitants are "Greeks"--they have long ago become

h Italian--some arsenal official--brought a little boy to have his hair cut "not too short" and, on r

ds to that effect), "I told you

ble, gave a preliminary bow. He was c

ess!--is a matter of opinion. I fully admit that you desired the child's hair to be cut not too short. Th

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ed in history to know that under the late regime it was considered improper, if not criminal, to wear a moustache. Well, nowadays we think differently. Which proves t

y of imitation. Next, there are what one might describe as hygienic and climatic considerations. Summer is approaching, sir, and apart from certain unpleasant risks which I need not specify, you will surely agree with me that the solstitial heat is a needlessly severe trial for a boy with long hair. My own children are all cropped close, and I have rea

t--

renowned Mantegna, there must have been a time when men thought long hair in children rather beautiful than otherwise. And I am not so rigorous

down a coin and walked out of the shop with his son, muttering s

-opened door through which his visitor had fled, "the true question is this: What i

Inland

hing is relative. Yes, gentlemen" (turning to myself and h

have hitherto garnered no

a race of giants that adorned the gardens which have now been converted into the "New Quarter."I imagine it is the highest existing palm in Italy, and am glad to have taken a likenes

ight, and which explains their infatuation for the much-enduring robinia that allows itself to be teased into any pattern suggested by their unhealthy phantasy. It is really as if there were something offensive to the Latin mind in the sight of a well-grown tree, as if man alone had the right of expanding normally. But I must not do the City Fath

ittorio Emmanuele, that skirts the sea on the south side of the old town, was their sole promenade. And even this street was built only a

ing due south, becomes interesting after sunset. Here you may see the young bloods

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rmance for several evenings, I decided in favour of robuster methods--I decided that courtship, under conditions such as the Corso supplies, can only be pursued by the very young or the hopelessly infatuated.

eight or ten may be seen furtively recording their feelings on the white walls of their would-be lovers' houses; these archaic scrawls go straight to the point, and are models of what love-letters may ultimately become, in the time-saving communities of the future. But when the adol

dles and returns them conscientiously, in due course, to their respective senders. Seldom does a boy make overtures in

the obsession of "looking manly" becomes a part of his future artifici

y succeed, of course; but sometimes--dear me, no! Suicides look manly, that is all. They are part of the game. The more sensible youngsters know exactly how much corrosive sublimate to t

: the l

Inlan

e protagonists honour themselves; they confer, as it were, a patent of virility. The country people are as warmblooded as the citizens, but t

remains the enviable hero of a mysterious masculine passion. Ask any town apothecary. A doctor friend of mine lately analysed the results of his benevolent exertions upon a young man who had been s

no credit allowed. They will select a life partner, upon the advice of ma mere and a strong committee of

n included among the rules of the game. Youth must keep up the poetic tradition of "fiery." Besides, it is an inex

m marrying th

samples of youthful love-l

. Interesting, because intermediate bet

OF MY

birds of nature, the dreary country sadly covered by a few flowers that remain there? Once your look was passionate and pierced me like a sunny

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tranquil or stormy. To you I would give my felicity, my futu

reatest enthusiasm (co-tusiamo) my heart has ever known. O cruel one who has deigned to put his sweet poison in my heart to-day, while to-morrow you will pass me wi

er than ever in its great isolation (insolamende); I look on my past love an

py I then was when life seemed radiant with felicity and brightened by your love. And now nothing more remains of it; ev

ther pages

e initiative; such letters are ra

Miss

carattolo). Therefore, if I may have the honour of being your sweetheart,

SALVATORE. "Prompt

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