Lorenzo & his humble friends

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool

Bike rides in Switzerland

I took fifteen minutes of my time to draw a map of Switzerland with the mountain climbs I would like to ride on my bike. Those I have done already have a circle around the dot: Chasseral, Chasseron, San Gottardo, Neufenen, Furka, San Bernardo, Grosse Scheidegg, La Tourne. The others I will hopefully do at some point in the future.

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Madrid

I have been in Madrid over five times now. I first came twice for one volunteer and one student vacation sometime between 2009 and 2013. Then Madrid became one of the places that I would study as part of my Ph.D. dissertation. My friends and local hosts here were Pedro and Andrea. Here comes a list of familiar places, familiar establishments, and places/establishments I am keeping for the future.

Familiar places: La Calle del Doctor Piga en Lavapies; Anton Martìn (mercado, cinema y todo); El Retiro (its small bookshops, lakes, and buildings); El Templo de Debod (sunset and night); Campo del Moro; Calle de la Cava Baja en La Latina; Chueca; Calle Ponzano (Chamberi).

Familiar establishments: La Venencia (sherri and dust); Barrutia y el Nueve (pescado y carne); Mercado de San Fernando (Lavapies, remember that time with dancers inside?)La Azotea de El Círculo de Bellas Artes (quite a view); Vincci The Mint (Gran Via over night); La Burbuja que ríe (Asturian food); El Mercado de San Miguel (market next to Plaza Mayor: pick some salmorejo); Reina Sofía (some good Pablo Picasso, Salador Dalì, Joan Miro, Carlos Sáenz de Tejada, Pablo Gargallo); NuBel; Arzábal Restaurant; Libreria de Montaña Desnivel.

For the future: El Prado; Thyssen; Museo Sorolla, El Matadero, CaixaForum, La Casa Encendida, El Círculo de Bellas Artes, Ocho y Medio Libreria (Plaza de Espana); Libreria el olor de la lluvia (in Lavapies); Libros para un mundo mejor (Chueca); El Lamiak; Bodega de la Ardosa (Malasaña); Librería de Mujeres.

Picarésco

Agg. [dallo spagn. picaresco, der. di pícaro (v. picaro)] Relativo a un genere letterario sorto in Spagna nella seconda metà del sec. 16° (il cui prototipo è considerato il romanzo anonimo Lazarillo de Tormes, 1554) e diffusosi poi nel resto d’Europa, caratterizzato dalla descrizione delle avventure dei picari, popolani furbi, imbroglioni e privi di scrupoli: letteratura p.; romanzo p.; novelle picaresche. Anche, che ricorda o rispecchia l’atmosfera, le situazioni, le trame tipiche di tale genere letterario: avventure p.; un gusto pper il rischio. Un esempio dell’uso di picaresco nella conversazione tra amici relativo alla descrizione di questo bel whiskey.

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Dani: A voi è mai capitato di ritrovarvi con una falsa impressione di eau-de-vie?

Lorenzo: Sì, non preoccuparti: a me capita spesso in coincidenza di fugaci apparizioni della liquirizia, ma poi di solito la frutta torna al centro del palcoscenico (del mio palato, ovviamente).

Dani: Classico comportamento picaresco della liquirizia.

Dialoghi e appunti tra Trento, Roma e Firenze

Una mattina di giugno alla fermata del bus anziano sale a bordo e saluta il guidatore: ‘Wella, direttore!“.

Al ristorante chiedo al cameriere se posso sedermi all’esterno. Lui mi risponde: “Puoi fare ciò che vuoi e io sarò il tuo schiavo“.

Al Giro d’Italia con Alvise, babbo, Giallu e Pietro tra Fonzaso, Croce d’Aune, Monte Avena, Pedavane e di ritorno a Fonzaso. Ci accampiamo con gli amici di Alvise che incitano in maniera indiscriminata spettatori e spettatrici che salgono in bici. Lo fanno sventolando davanti a loro mutandine di donna, sculacciandoli/le con due manine di plastica, versando loro del prosecco: “bevilo tutto!” oppure “e adesso lo finisci!” a seconda del momento.

Croce d'Aunia

Notte fonda al ritorno dal June Ball e trovo il solito fornaio all’opera in una remota bottega di via Boccaccio. Gli chiedo della schiacciata e lui me la regala: ho solo una banconota da cinquanta e lui non ha il resto. Due giorni dopo torno e trovo il suo collega. E’ quasi commosso che io sia tornato a pagare due euro. Loro si chiamano Mario e Sergio.

Francesco, Carmela e Costanza della Boutique della Pasta Fresca si ricordano ancora di me, anche se ci torno solo un paio di volte all’anno. Quando faccio per andare in bagno mi ricordano di chiudere la porta con delicatezza, altrimenti “gliela sbarbo“.

Un giorno cammino per il sottopassaggio delle Cure e mi godo l’Angelo che canta una litania napoletana accompagnato dalla fisarmonica. Sbucato alla luce mi trovo davanti Isah, che non vedevo dalla primavera del 2016. Lui era il venditore ambulante che sostava sempre davanti all’Antico Forno Guasti e con cui parlavamo di Roberto Baggio. Ci riconosciamo e parliamo di Danielo (Dani) e di Daniela (Jonas). Isah è molto contento, anche perché ora sta per partire per il mare dove farà la stagione – vendendo asciugamani. Ci siamo abbracciati.

Vecchie foto fiorentine

I found these pictures from 2013 in my archives. I am not sure I took them myself: I think I saw them on Facebook at the time and saved them on my desktop. Please do let me know if these pictures happen to be yours and I am violating some copyright law.

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These pictures are good memories of San Domenico di Fiesole now that I go there with a different mindset. Perhaps the Institute is changing too. Gates are mushrooming and people tend to be sober and uptight. It feels like l’esprit that characterised those hippie, privileged researchers is leaving room to a much more corporate enterprise. But maybe it is just me gazing with nostalgia at a truly wonderful period of my life.

Impressioni

Mettere qua e là informazioni irrilevanti è un ottimo modo per risultare un brillante conversatore. Come diceva Guglielmo da Baskerville, se non puoi lasciare un’impronta, tanto vale lasciare un’impressione.

Elections in Europe: wrap up

Against all the odds, a relatively large percentage of Europeans voted in 2019.

The average turnout is 50.5% across the EU. This number is much higher than that of 2014, when only 42% of those who have the right to vote went to the polls. The clearest gains were recorded in Spain, Romania, Hungary, Poland, France and Germany.

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This finally bucks a 40-year negative trend. Falling participation has made a mockery of the Parliament’s claims to represent the real voice of public opinion. This year’s election represents the higher turn-out than any other European Parliament election since 1994.

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The results proved more complicated than “march of the populists” narrative.

Almost all left populist parties did worse than five years, from Syriza in Greece (down from 26% in 2014 to 23%) to Podemos in Spain (down from 8% to 6%) and Jeremy Corbyn’s version of the Labour Party (from 24% in 2014 to 14%).

For right wing populist the scenario is mixed. They emerge as clear winners in Italy, where the Lega is the first party with 34% of the votes high from 6% of 2014. They also win big in Hungary with Fidesz at 53% and in Poland with Jarosław Kaczyński’s Law and Justice at 45%.

Yet, far right wing populist’s wins must not be exaggerated. In France, the Le Ressemblement National is the first party but has a lower percentage of votes than in 2014. In Austria, the FPÖ lost substantially when compared to 2014. So did the Party for Freedom in the Netherlands. In Germany, the AfD gained just as much as it did in 2014.

Overall, the three existing Eurosceptic groups – which include Poland’s government (the ECR), Italy’s Lega (the ENF) and Marine Le Pen’s Ressemblement National (EFDD) – will make up around 25 per cent of the chamber, some 5 percent points more than 2014. They are not the third largest group in the European Parliament that had been predicted by some.

The centre holds – but it is a new and more dynamic centre.

Any commission president will need 376 votes to secure the absolute majority needed in parliament. In the end, a disparate pro-European centre gained new members and largely held firm in the face of its biggest threat from anti-establishment parties. The pro-EU parties hold around two-thirds of seats. Yes, the People’s Party and the Socialist Group in the Parliament lost the majority; but they can still govern comfortably if they manage to struck a deal with the liberals and/or with the greens. Credit for the two images below goes to Politico and to the Financial Times.

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In the end, this elections look just like Ivan Krastev had written on L’Internazionale last week, citing the 1911 novel “Gertrude the Governess”: Lord Ronald said nothing; he flung himself from the room, flung himself upon his horse and rode madly off in all directions. European politics is recombining in new ways and directions. The rise of the right-wing populists is part of that but not, in this election, a particularly new or dynamic one. European voters rather seem to go a bit everywhere, from socialism in Spain to environmentalism in Germany, far right in Italy, and liberalism in the UK.

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Who are the winners?

Green parties almost everywhere.
The Lib-dems in the UK.
Matteo Salvini’s Lega in Italy.
Viktor Orban’s Fidesz in Hungary.
The Socialist party in Portugal, Spain, and the Netherlands.

Who are the losers?

Labour and Tories in the UK.
The centre-right party in France, Italy, and Spain.
5SM in Italy.
AfD in Germany.
Syriza in Greece.

Is Italy Europe’s new heart of darkness?

Yes. At the moment, there is no clear alternative project to the Lega’s hegemonic regressive views on territorial inequalities and migration.

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Italians abroad do it differently.

While in Italy the Lega emerged as first party with 34% of the votes, the PD at 22% and the 5SM at 17%, Italian abroad voted for the PD (30%) ahead of Lega (19%) and 5SM (15%). Funny, if you think that they were given the right to vote in 2001 by a far right minister who had hoped to mobilise fascist nostalgia abroad.

Mobile EU citizens: voting rights

I have written a short speculative article on the electoral rights of my friends and relatives living abroad. I have taken as examples Anna and Daniele to illustrate some of the research on electoral rights that I have conducted together with many friends and colleagues. The idea for this article comes from Martina-t, who has already appeared twice on this blog.



Ho scritto
un breve articolo speculativo sui diritti elettorali dei miei amici e parenti che vivono all’estero. Ho preso come esempio i casi di Anna e di Daniele, tentando di rendere più intellegibile la ricerca sui diritti elettorali che ho condotto negli ultimi anni assieme a tanti amici e colleghi negli ultimi anni. Lo spunto per questo articolo viene da Martina-t, che è già comparsa due volte su questo blog.

Fish, moss , sulfur, water, wool

I land in Iceland after having spent one week in Paris. The contrast could not be more striking. I leave chaos and warm spring colours behind and I jump into a pale, spacious, and mostly silent place. Not entirely silent because of the wind that whispers almost all the time.

I have two first impressions of Iceland. The first is the Icelandic accent in English: such a bizarre blend of Greek and Scottish. Not quite what you would expect. The second is the smell and the thickness of the water: sulfur. I have a hard time showering in the morning, although they say it is very good for the skin.

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It is difficult to understand the tourist turn of Reykjavik today without thinking about the effects of cash (the financial crisis of 2008) and hash (the Eyjafjallajökull eruption of 2010). This combination led Icelandic authorities to brand Iceland for tourism, creating a very powerful industry. There were less than 30.000 people per year coming to Iceland in 2008 and there are more than 2 million now. It is a rather appalling tourism: Americans enjoying a prolonged layover on their way back home and rich people. The branding of Iceland is all about white, upper class people enjoying leisure time.

Most of the promotional images about Iceland feature beautiful women (e.g. here). This is a perverse twist in a country that ranks first for gender equality. Indeed, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir, the fourth President of Iceland, was the world’s first democratically directly elected female president. With a presidency of exactly sixteen years, from 1 August 1980 to 1 August 1996, she also remains the longest-serving elected female head of state of any country to date.

Reykjavik is a relatively big city, with 200.000 inhabitants, about two third of the people who live on the island. The centre (that is, the main street Laugavegur) is completely gentrified and there is a tourist shop every twenty meters. The museums are mushrooming and most of them are rather useless. The buildings are rather anonymous on the outside but often surprising on the inside. The architecture is practical, bright, robust, efficient.

I am surprised to see many cyclists. I remember reading about bike rides in Iceland. I would not want to do it. The roads are mostly flat and extremely windy. Not a good combination. I notice that all the cyclists have expensive bikes and hyper-cool clothing on.

I am lucky enough to arrive during the Keykjavik Literaty Festival. I discover two good writers: Fridgeir Einarsson and Carolina Setterwall. Jean-Baptiste is the house keeper of the place where I am staying. He sticks with me most of the time. He lived in the Middle East for several years and got sick of violence and chaos. He looked up a ranking of the most peaceful countries in the world and ended up in Iceland. He is not the only foreigner. There are many Polish working as cashiers in the supermarkets and many Americans in the tourist shops.

I go the the swimming pool with hot, thermal waters almost every morning: Sundhooll Reykjavikur. I love the Braud & Co. for warm ginger bread. Kex hostel is probably the nicest place for a beer. Kaffibrennslan is the spot to go to read with a hot coffee. Harpa is a wicked building. The Arts Museum has remarkable interiors and good exhibitions. The Photo Museum is tiny. I take away a romantic picture shot by Gunnar Runar Olafsson.

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After three days it is definitely time to drive out of the city. My journey is guided by the spirit of  Gunnar Gunnarsson’s The good shepherd, a book that Leonardo suggests before I venture outside of Reykjavik, and by Giacomo Leopardi’s Dialogo della natura e di un islandese. Christina is the perfect travel companion.

The landscape is rugged. The colours are pale. It is quite obvious that the nature here shapes local music (Björk, Ólafur Arnalds, Sigur Rós) and literature (Halldór Laxness, Jón Kalman Stefánsson). Iceland, in this sense, is a very material place. Fish, moss , sulfur, water, wool. Fair and rugged. In a way, I think the Icelandic landscape fits very well the Zeitgeist of the hipsters, yogis, and digital nomads: it looks pure, silent, natural.

When you are there is actually rather craggy, volcanic. The Icelandic flag has three colours, which are symbolic for three of the elements that make up the island: red is for the volcanic fires, white for the snow and glaciers, and blue is for the skies. In my opinion the island is, most of all, green. I discover that the Norse explorers wanted to keep the island for themselves, therefore they called it Iceland and they called the other Iceland further north Greenland. In fact, it should have been the other way round. Sneaky, deceptive Norse.

It is too late in the season for the northern lights but we see a spectacular sunset I want to remember. It is not only the view all around us, red, wide, glorious; it is also the symphony of the birds, who bid their farewell to yet another day.

Some interesting facts about this place. Icelanders are very practical about religion. They do not care too much and every time some foreign powers forced them to convert they did without too much of a fuss. Until the 1960s black American soldiers were not allowed to stay on the island. It was JFK who mediated a solution. Until 1989 beer was still prohibited in Iceland: nobody knows exactly why. There is still a name committee approving names for kids. All the volcanoes have female names.

Iceland was a hot spot of confrontation during the Cold War. The famous picture of Reagan being summit meeting between U.S. President Ronald Reagan and General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev

The legendary chess match between Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky in 1972 took place in Reykjavik, which was neutral territory between the US and the USSR. After the 1972 World Chess Championship, Fischer went into a period of sudden obscurity and isolation. He did not play a competitive game in public for nearly 20 years. He then re-emerged to play Spassky in a “Revenge Match of the 20th century” in 1992. The match took place in Sveti Stefan and Belgrade, Yugoslavia, in spite of a United Nations embargo that included sanctions on commercial activities. The US Department of the Treasury warned Fischer before the start of the match that his participation was illegal, that it would violate President George H. W. Bush’s Executive Order 12810 imposing United Nations Security Council Resolution 757 sanctions against engaging in economic activities in Yugoslavia. In response, during the first scheduled press conference on September 1, 1992, in front of the international press, Fischer spat on the US order, saying “this is my reply”. His violation of the order led US Federal officials to initiate a warrant for his arrest upon completion of the match. He went to Japan but was to be extradated to the US. The Althing (the Icelandic Parliament) then agreed unanimously to grant Fischer full citizenship in late March for humanitarian reasons, as they felt he was being unjustly treated by the United States and Japanese governments and also in recognition of his 1972 match, which had “put Iceland on the map”. Fischer went to Iceland and lived a reclusive life until his death in 2008.

Rapsodico

Agg. [dal gr. ῥαψῳδικός] (pl. m. -ci). – Dei rapsodi; attinente alla rapsodia: poema a carattere r.; poesia r., costituita di frammenti; lettura r. (di un testo, di un’opera letteraria), non continua, episodica, saltuaria. Il mio uso del telefono è alquanto rapsodico.