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Themes:     ‘Casa’ & LaPerla (81)    Events & Occasions (32)  
Tags:    Christmas     Costa Family
Francesco Ricci Thursday, 18 December 2014

Christmas letter

Dear Casa Perla and the lovely Costa family,
Destiny was behind our meeting last year. A bicycle, indeed, and the Dolomites were the pretext. The words, to be written, did the rest. I have rarely met people so generous, amiable, kind, intelligent, thoughtful and polite. The stuff of times gone by. Since I am a writer by trade and reading is a constant source of inspiration, instead of writing a letter in the first person as one should, I have gathered together a jumble of writings by others, excerpts that I hold dear and that remind me of you. A game, a search—how much I love leafing through the pages of other's writing—that is an absolute part of me. And I would like to put this part of me underneath a hypothetical tree that will never be cut down, if anything watered from time to time, so that it will grow beautiful, healthy and strong.
Christmas letter
“More a game than a letter, a jumble of thoughts gathered here and there and dedicated to a family, a home and all of its inhabitants.„
Travel the world with your backpacks,
o bearded, broad-shouldered young men,
do not listen to the grumblers.
Rest in the grass and in Alpine pastures,
in the blankets of foam on the beaches,
in the fields of Umbria Jazz, in the countryside,
in sleeping bags and on ramshackle camp beds.
Tell the old men to go to hell, lay waste
to the plague-spreaders, master whiners,
fools and bringers of hail.
[Angelo Maria Ripellino, Poesie, Einaudi]

There is no reason good can't triumph over evil, if only angels will get organized along the lines of the Mafia.
[Kurt Vonnegut, A Man without a Country]

The stories I was looking for, whether common or extraordinary, real or ideal, needed to be touched by the mountain more than live there. Their protagonists needed to be living the experience of rarefaction that the mountain forces on humankind, the rarefaction of air, sounds and encounters, but above all of time. This is because the mountain compels us, first of all, to take cognizance of this savage truth: time exists, it is the centre of our lives, but it is not made in our image.
[Davide Longo, Introduction to Racconti di montagna, Einaudi]

I understood instinctively that without beauty, life was probably not worth the trouble of living, and that, on the other hand, a certain form of evil comes precisely from the horribly perverted use of beauty.
[François Cheng, The Way of Beauty. Five Meditations for Spiritual Transformation, Inner Traditions]

If a population really possesses a feeling for beauty, it will make nature more beautiful. If, on the other hand, the great mass of humanity were to remain what it is today, coarse, egotistical and false, it would continue to scar the earth with its sad imprint. And the poet's desperate cry would become truth: 'Where to flee? Nature is growing ugly'.
[Elisée Reclus, Storia di una montagna, TARARA’]

You can fall in love
but even more where
you were born.
When she lifted her eyes
and said I do,
instead of kissing her
I stood there staring.
[Cesare Zavattini, Dove si è nati, in A vrés, Bottazzi]

Would you really live the way you say one ought to live?
[Alexander Langer]

Remember that literature is our memory, and reading means establishing a connection with the humanity that preceded us, with all of the passions, emotions, pain, joy and hope that people have experienced over time, from Homer to the present day. With what they dreamed of and what they desired and that they passed down to us, in their own forms and languages, through books. Human emotions and passions that help us stay human.
[Raffaele La Capria, Esercizi superficiali, Mondadori]

With affection and thanks, and in hopes that the world will start going in the right direction, sooner or later,

Francesco Ricci
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