Neapolitan existence

Published July 4, 2011 by Tony

I take my cue from some verse of Matilde Serao (March 7, 1856 – 25 July 1927) Neapolitan journalist and novelist, the founder and editor of main Neapolitan newspaper called “ Il Mattino”.
For us, Neapolitan people,  is missing the southerly woodland, the big expanse green lands where Valkyries and Elves appear; is missing the immaculate whiteness of the snow that let’s shudder and isolate; is missing the livid and tempestuous sea or the fog that inspires nightmares and fantasies. It is missing, finally, that Nature, sometimes ideal, that can be melancholic, surreal, obscure and inspiring. For us, it’s a real Nature, dry, open, burning and shining, even if beautiful, that brings to live the reality, done of joy and pain but, always hardly realistic. For this, anything acquire a strong human character, as our legends that by a nature very sensitive, go beyond space and time. Our dreams go far while living, and here it is the dream to become real itself. The existence, overly human, leads to reach that mysticism it needs, as universally through the centuries, and ascend up to a supreme ideality. Mysticism that is faith, thought, love, art. But, this victory of the spirit above the body brings to another drama more human and powerful, the drama of Love, where anything is existence and man kills a part of himself to exalt someone else.

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