"This monstrous loss of beauty in the world is our punishment for having created more than through art? (Thought dandy end) "
" The man is a soul dragging a dead body. We deplore his death as tired at the end, to act as a sweeper. "
" If we do not fight with God, God is dead. "
" If you learn to live by the vanquished, it is a bit 'less. "
"Science is the hearts live longer, but discouraged them.
Paghiamola no thank you"
Guido Ceronetti
Guido Ceronetti or silence. De + Latin ablative is a building that already tells us something about this author, is a language he loves and respects enough to be translated by the philologist Charles Hull words that are closest to his heart.
born Guido Ceronetti in Turin in 1927, the same year in which public Heidegger Being and Time. Silence, body, be, time travel: where are coordinated moves his poetry, because it is essentially a poet. At that her thin body, blue eyes, where the infinite lives. Impossible to establish a biography without seeing it, without knowing the shyness that comes with it as a walking stick, the reluctance to any form of excavation that is not of the soul, the purity of its
rare public appearances. He hides behind a puppet or a photograph, like a child behind the apron of his mother.
I read the first interview on "Max" who also published beautiful pictures. If the value has a physiognomy, his face is map of a journey in search of purity, innocence. Here, he is so scathing and cynical candid ... The most significant works: Journey to Italy (1983), The Silence of the body (1994), The Complete Poems. Journey to Italy is the figure of the Romantic writers of all time, a wealth of nature and culture to be entrusted with the smells acres of the South, the "fog of anise" in the north, the essence of Tuscany, the generous friendliness of Romagna, Baroque Rome. Almost an initiation rite for the lovers of beauty. Guido Ceronetti it comprises a different landscape, intimate interior, where the
"s'invena rain," as part of the psyche. It is a sentimental journey and shiny where the ugliness of the modern are combined with sudden flashes of poetry unconscious, often written by a poet who is not. As in all trips the main character is alone, because the journey is essentially alone. Itinerary in space but also over time, the cradle that collects the memories of almost half a century, the milliner, "noon time", the women cleaning up on the balcony singing, the girls of today, all equally squeezed in leather jackets and jeans . The city approached and caressed or rejected as female bodies. Perhaps only in Genoa could still fall in love. Genoa, where he embarked and returned Dino Campana, always win, always the loser. The madness of Tasso through the streets of Ferrara, impossible to go without hearing it.
mix of stories of men and courtyards, walls, smell of rain, written in the processes of sweet night and restless nights. Cemeteries, then, are custodians of our silence naturally described as normal death. The food
simple, frugal, the writer goes almost to retain, strengthen its identity so that only the world could falter. Familiarity, familiarity with the food brings them back to intimacy. The silence of the bodies is the philosophical work, where thought becomes something else and goes in and out in search of the meaning of things. Sense that it is digging, wrinkle, discovery, light, illness, pain, dialogue, solo, rotting flesh or cheers, body ...
Others have written on the body (U. Galimberti, F. Rella, E. Borgna), but Ceronetti has learned the translation of The Song of Songs, where nature and culture intertwine and merge to the point that the word itself embodies and becomes brittle, with raw nerves, modest and far from the womb and even visceral, deep, throaty, torn by melancholy or invaded by joy. In the copy of the book itself Ceronetti I won I have two bookmarks: one pen and a sparrow Kremerata Baltic ticket (Gidon Kremer, violinist, music in September of 2000), as if to signify the two themes of the book: the fragility of the body and the soul and the supreme power to the infinite that music represents.
intelligence separate from the heart, the delicacy that excessive forces thought to distance from the volcano of desire and pain that the body contains barely. Eros enters the book by candle light, almost like a religious ritual, where gratitude is the reward. "Silence is not smiles or after sex, degrades Eros." "The disease is thought less afraid," the theme of the body falls ill
without tenderness around, alone among the endless tests and therapies. In the opening pages of the book, illuminates the title reproduction of the painting by Goya and his physician, "the poem of humanity that does not contemplate without tears ... tribute of gratitude that we wonder lightning ".
The belly monster, and kinds of exhibitions, in Emile Zola, in LFCeline, as is the belly Ceronetti stage of birth and death, attacked more than any other organ from endless sufferings: bleeding, gluttony and greed, lust, container of sin and punishment. "The problem of salvation (of true wisdom) is empty and I did nothing but follow my curiosity
libertine, I fill, I devour the past, chasing ghosts in the corridors of time." Guido Ceronetti Each book is a poem about time. The time singing, past, eaten, given, done, the man always and only travels in time. All poems. It is almost impossible to talk about poetry without being poets. To Ceronetti
permeates all his writing, poets somehow born. The poet is someone who, instead of chewing the fact devoured without teeth, the food is a symbol, a cloud, a pain, a memory ... The title of the collection are already possible objects of study: The distance, Excavation and signals. And then the translation "historical" of Catullus, Martial, The Song of Songs, Qohelet, which mark the word with a figure for the whole staff. The translation for Ceronetti is a "sacred gesture" is
deep in meditation, it is scholarly research, is the act that brings to light the midwife.
beginning or the end of his poetic works, there are pages in which he explains the time, space, the way in which it operates, and it's nice to write to imagine standing in front of a window, sipping green tea, all ' alba as a soldier at war. Because his is a real battle against the bad, compared to the vernacular, against the "work of soul" and the line of poetry is the medicine
ugliness and insignificance. I would like to bring a poem of "civic passion," but very musical, written after an ecological disaster:
The Exterminating Angel.
Under the wing of the crumpled sheet
waited for the exterminator
The voice was a physician and a friend rowed without
The tale of the dark side
screaming Employment
windows where a candle has all aimed at
Crack Unit infinite
What do you know of two little lives? This text contains poetic
top all the themes of labyrinthine depths of Ceronetti,
in this case, a virtue that he was not entirely congenial simplicity. It is as if, having to prepare a text
widely known, had the ethical commitment to be understood by all.
The civil commitment, the passion of love extended to the cosmos, the complaint of the bad, the darkness of our lives that
ripetono stereotipi. Un giorno l’ho paragonato a un maestro del tè, allo stesso tempo
filosofo e guerriero.
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