Yes, please, take me on a walk with you. Any time.
". . .where whole lives, with all their myriads of pictures and intakes of air and complexities and uniquenesses, have been reduced to a few, etched words."
You'd better write your own epitaph in advance, otherwise your family will have the impossible task of choosing one uniquely detailed phrase from those that litter your writing.
Excellent, as always. Your story inevitably reminded me of the Ship of Theseus, which in the end is us. And, if I remember correctly, that one does not propose a solution either, since it is a paradox. Are we paradoxes, then? I guess we are.
One day I was talking to a friend and I was saying, "This is not how I imagined my life in my 20s," and I don't remember what we were talking about but we were laughing, so it didn't have to be anything important or at most something you could laugh about. So we should talk about identity, memory and time and those are three giant topics. I'm going straight to the cemetery, which is a place I love very much and which I don't frequent as much as I would like (at least while I'm alive, then I'll have time). I have often wondered what I like about cemeteries, and I am talking about any cemetery. I think the peace they inspire and that they don't ask you questions or have answers. The questions are about time (the past and the future) but there is no time there, there is a silent end. They are places where time has no power, that's what they are. Or at least human time. That's why I don't consider them places of remembrance (like you) or of dialogue with those who are no longer with us. They are the places we have made up so that we don't have to deal with time for a while. So that we don't have to wonder if the Ship of Theseus that has arrived at its destination is the same one that had sailed years before.
Mar 1, 2023·edited Mar 1, 2023Liked by Silvio Castelletti
Anything that mentions Manzoni and The Betrothed gets an automatic "like" from me, and the fact that you wrote it, makes it even more of a no-brainer for the instant like and, wait for it...kinda long-winded comment LOL
Such a solemn and contemplative essay, yet never loses the energy and the fun! The 2nd to last paragraph had me laugh out because of its 1) light-hearted contrast to the seriousness of Manzoni's resting place, and 2) personal nature that allows a reader into your thoughts. After the laugh, I'm trying to paint a mental image of Silvio twirling his (or other's?) hair, but no image seems to be right. So, time for an Instagram story, maybe? ;)
Another banger from you, Silvio. Really love the subtle balances between the serious and the fun! Semi-serious view, indeed!
This is a really thought-provoking piece, and I appreciate it. My middle school had a graveyard behind it, and sometimes I would walk through it and look at the stones. So many stones define a person solely in terms of their relationship to someone else -- especially women, as "Loving wife and mother." And I wonder, how much is our identity determined by our relationships to other people? As opposed to our work? Is it a privilege, is it luck, to produce work that will last after one dies? Or is the idea of a legacy all vanity?
Truly mean it when I say I look forward to this newsletter every single week. So, so good Silvio! And must I add that I always love the title / subtitle combos as well. Bravo bravo
Finally got around reading the final form of your cemetery musings Silvio.
First of all, loved the pictures! All of them, and particularly the last one. So elegantly colorful, goes well with Milan ;)
Also, loved the bucket analogy, it's just a great way to see life. And agree with you about identity being fluid and always changing, it would be boring otherwise!
One of my favorite SSV pieces...which is difficult to say because I've enjoyed all of them. And it's a treat to see you bring this piece to life with your beautiful photos. Steven Foster would be stoked
Yes, please, take me on a walk with you. Any time.
". . .where whole lives, with all their myriads of pictures and intakes of air and complexities and uniquenesses, have been reduced to a few, etched words."
You'd better write your own epitaph in advance, otherwise your family will have the impossible task of choosing one uniquely detailed phrase from those that litter your writing.
Excellent, as always. Your story inevitably reminded me of the Ship of Theseus, which in the end is us. And, if I remember correctly, that one does not propose a solution either, since it is a paradox. Are we paradoxes, then? I guess we are.
One day I was talking to a friend and I was saying, "This is not how I imagined my life in my 20s," and I don't remember what we were talking about but we were laughing, so it didn't have to be anything important or at most something you could laugh about. So we should talk about identity, memory and time and those are three giant topics. I'm going straight to the cemetery, which is a place I love very much and which I don't frequent as much as I would like (at least while I'm alive, then I'll have time). I have often wondered what I like about cemeteries, and I am talking about any cemetery. I think the peace they inspire and that they don't ask you questions or have answers. The questions are about time (the past and the future) but there is no time there, there is a silent end. They are places where time has no power, that's what they are. Or at least human time. That's why I don't consider them places of remembrance (like you) or of dialogue with those who are no longer with us. They are the places we have made up so that we don't have to deal with time for a while. So that we don't have to wonder if the Ship of Theseus that has arrived at its destination is the same one that had sailed years before.
Anything that mentions Manzoni and The Betrothed gets an automatic "like" from me, and the fact that you wrote it, makes it even more of a no-brainer for the instant like and, wait for it...kinda long-winded comment LOL
Such a solemn and contemplative essay, yet never loses the energy and the fun! The 2nd to last paragraph had me laugh out because of its 1) light-hearted contrast to the seriousness of Manzoni's resting place, and 2) personal nature that allows a reader into your thoughts. After the laugh, I'm trying to paint a mental image of Silvio twirling his (or other's?) hair, but no image seems to be right. So, time for an Instagram story, maybe? ;)
Another banger from you, Silvio. Really love the subtle balances between the serious and the fun! Semi-serious view, indeed!
This is a really thought-provoking piece, and I appreciate it. My middle school had a graveyard behind it, and sometimes I would walk through it and look at the stones. So many stones define a person solely in terms of their relationship to someone else -- especially women, as "Loving wife and mother." And I wonder, how much is our identity determined by our relationships to other people? As opposed to our work? Is it a privilege, is it luck, to produce work that will last after one dies? Or is the idea of a legacy all vanity?
Truly mean it when I say I look forward to this newsletter every single week. So, so good Silvio! And must I add that I always love the title / subtitle combos as well. Bravo bravo
Finally got around reading the final form of your cemetery musings Silvio.
First of all, loved the pictures! All of them, and particularly the last one. So elegantly colorful, goes well with Milan ;)
Also, loved the bucket analogy, it's just a great way to see life. And agree with you about identity being fluid and always changing, it would be boring otherwise!
Great musings as usual Silvio :)
One of my favorite SSV pieces...which is difficult to say because I've enjoyed all of them. And it's a treat to see you bring this piece to life with your beautiful photos. Steven Foster would be stoked
An interesting and sometimes funny essay.I love your contemporary and modernity thoughts,which make us reflect and teach us new things..Thanks