Luciano Luciani
The girl stone
Sleeping in a quiet night the statue of Ilaria Del Carretto wife of the lord of Lucca Guinigi Paul, who died Dec. 12 of 1402, illuminates the white marble, clear light of the candles in the cathedral of Lucca. Hands folded on his chest at the foot a little dog, which the faithful guardian of nearly six hundred years seems committed to protect the sleep of his mistress.
In sweet facial features, in the soft folds of her dress fifteenth covering a body relaxed and composed, Jacopo della Quercia, a sculptor in terrible reputation among contemporaries, he wanted to express in a calm, subdued in form, his entire dissent against 'absurdity of death, especially when it comes to affect youth and beauty.
Not a few poets who have accepted the changes, a fair but firm protest emanating from this tomb. Among these Salvatore Quasimodo in front of the statue of Ilaria Del Carretto , a text of 1942
tender moon already under your hills
lungo il Serchio fanciulle in vesti rosse
e turchine si muovono leggere.
Così al tuo dolce tempo, o cara, e Sirio
perde colore, e ogno ora s’allontana,
e il gabbiano s’infuria sulle spiagge
derelitte. Gli amanti vanno lieti
nell’aria di settembre, i loro gesti
accompagnano ombre di parole
che conosci. Non hanno pietà; e tu
tenuta dalla terra, che lamenti?
Sei qui rimasta alone. My gasp
maybe it's yours, the same anger and fear.
Remote the dead and even more live
my fellow cowards and taciturn.
It is extraordinary that the Sicilian poet of the harmony can be established between the sleep of the lonely child bride, passed as a bright meteor and fall short of medieval Lucca, private life and its joys and its condition only between a man "vile and silent companions": live, but more distant, more remote of the dead, locked in their selfishness, unable to help, refused to listen.
Tall, dense poetry which does not appear below the verse, fifteen years later, Pier Paolo Pasolini, plans to address the Lady of the Lord of Lucca:
" ... .., and Ilaria, Ilaria only ...
Within the cloistered transept
As in an aquarium, are marble
Resigned eyelids, chest
where clasping her hands in a calm
distance . There is the dawn
Italian and in the evening, his wretched
nascita, la sua morte incolore.
Sonno, i secoli vuoti: nessuno
Scalpello potrà scalzare la mole
tenue di queste palpebre.
Jacopo con Ilaria scolpì l’Italia
perduta nella morte, quando
la sua età fu più pura e necessaria”.
Nella coscienza del poeta friulano, sempre oscillante tra passione regressiva e ragione rivoluzionaria, il sonno secolare di Ilaria coincides with that of a humble people dear to Pasolini Italy and more than half a millennium, neglected, abandoned to itself. Alone, like Ilaria now in his stony grave.
again the voice of a poet to Ilaria. Marco Lucchesi to , fervent Brazilian poet, was born forty years ago in Rio de Janeiro from parents in Tuscany, a university professor of Italian literature and translation in Portuguese of Foscolo and Eco, Primo Levi and Dino Campana, Pasolini and Roberto Cotroneo. Thus, through the figure of the bride Guinigi, this stylish contemporary reworking our overseas scholar in the language of their ancestors on a theme dear to writers of all time, that the contrast between beauty and death:
Nudity
So you undress
before time
greedy
of your beauty you undressed
kiss your sweet cheeks
breasts
hidden
as
birds to nest
the front
sweet
of Hymen
drenched the flowers of your
secret
sublime joy
and rio pain
so you undress
before time
greedy
of your beauty you undressed
(from inside Lucca, 2002)
E suggestions engaged in by that grave perticolarissima continue to act on the inspiration of the writers of all time also came to touch the recent years of the millennium just escaped, managing to push the boundaries of literature "high" to feed the viscous melting pot of the literature "gender".Giorgio Celli now-famous ethologist television and controversial literary avant-garde in its early years, locate in the square of the Duomo of Lucca the privileged scene to conclude the best horror story - a hallucinatory noir ritual killer that just in the tomb of Ilaria and its author, is the inspiration delle proprie macabre ossessioni:
“… e lui se ne andò come un fantasma dal cappotto ormai candido, per i vicoli silenziosi, lungo i viali di lecci e di platani verso il Duomo. Un orologio, nel buio, al di là di molte case cantò; era l’una e mezza. Pensò di aver dato troppo credito alla precisione dell’ora in cui sarebbe stato compiuto il sacrificio. E se l’avesse già sgozzata? Se, davanti al Duomo che ospitava il sarcofago di Ilaria del Carretto, la bella statua con il cagnolino ai piedi, avesse trovato solo un cadavere ancora caldo? Fu sicuro di no. I riti hanno le loro regole, che non possono essere per nessuna ragione trasgredite… La statua di Ilaria doveva be, by force, the fetish for this new rite of blood ... "
Of course we will not do wrong to the reader, revealing the end of Under the oak and left him with the desire and curiosity to learn more. We merely noted that the tasty pastiche of history, art and "yellow" with intelligence developed by Giorgio Celli would not be as intriguing without the elusive magic of this city and its most famous inhabitant.
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