Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring
The 1950s is a period of profound sadness in Italy. Film enthusiasts won't forget Vittorio De Sica's "The Bicycle Thief", one of the important works in Italian neorealism. The turning point is Antonio's desperation, which prompts him to steal a bicycle. A hue and cry follow, where the man is kicked and insulted. The commotion stop when they see Bruno, Antonio's son, crying. He carries his old man's hat. Fighting back tears of shame, Antonio wears it. The crowd let father and son go out of compassion for the young boy.
Many films and books depict the struggles of Italians in post-World War II. Italo Calvino's works stand out. There's a tint of gentle pessimism in his stories, but his prose are written in a fairy-tale manner. The Cuban-born author won a lot of admirers outside his hometown. There's also a sense of place while reading Calvino's books, but the native of Sanremo, who passed away on September 19, 1985, don't see it having any impact on his works.
"The experience of everyday life in a given place may influence what you are writing but not the fact that you are writing here or there. I used to say that a hotel room was the ideal space - empty, anonymous. In that sense, a hotel room really is ideal. But I find I need a space of my own, a lair, though I suppose if something is really clear in my mind I could write it even in a hotel room," he said.
The good air
His "Our Ancestors" trilogy (1952-1959) was set during the Italian Renaissance, when the country was then a peninsula of kingdoms. They were accounts of chivalry and the discreet search for true love, but it wasn't hard to imagine a grin in Calvino's face (while composing his stories). There was humor (or pessimism, as some readers would insist). "Marcovaldo" (or "The seasons in the city"), written between the early 1950s and the mid-60s, was special for many reasons.
"For eleven months of the year the inhabitants loved their city and woe to anyone who cast aspersions: the skyscrapers, the cigarette machines, the wide-screen movie theaters, all undeniable sources of constant attraction. The only citizen to whom this feeling could not be attributed with certitude was Marcovaldo; but what he thought - first - was hard to know since he didn't have great powers of communication, and - second - it mattered so little that it made no difference."
Calvino originally wrote them as short stories, about a rural man living in northern Italy. The first set was penned when the country was very poor, while the rest were published when the northern cities experienced an economic boom. Each tale was Marcovaldo's musing on anything he encountered. Mushroom sprouting on cobbled roads, a river about to be polluted by waste from a nearby factory, the significance of the wasp. Were all of these an illusion to keep the man from thinking too much about his predicament? A sign of false hope? Readers may look it either way (or both ways).
When the stories were compiled together, each chapter depicting a particular season, Marcovaldo's life became something else. It wasn't bad at all. Those who were thinking of Calvino's political beliefs would be disappointed. (The author was a member of the Communist Party, but he left. He admitted not having any affiliation to any group.) Life can be an explosion of colors seen during the days of spring or an expanse of snow during the long winter.
