See, JOB, this is why it’s hard to bring back many photos of pagan stuff – they kept building churches on top of temples. This is Santa Maria Sopra Minvera. On the Creepy Catholic front – Saint Catherine’s body is here (see second photo), but her head is elsewhere – Siena, I think. On the video/travel journal front, apologies to the two or three of you who are waiting for more – The Wife is ill, and I’m in Mommy mode.
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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Matthew,
I understand the architectural palimpsest which is Rome – but the Forum? the Appian Way? the Janiculum?
…which reminds me of a poem I once wrote (bored yet?)
The Janiculum
– For Pia DeSolenni
The unadorned swelling of it rolls on along the south and west
Of history.
This last blunted prong of a seven-pointed crown
Feels twilight’s dusty breath of moth-wings
Hovering above the sun’s fat flame, the sun itself
An old orange wrinkling to rot,
A jewel-fired egg tarnished
In a last semi-circle of atomic fury
Set for detonation above corn fields in far-off western Gaul.
Strafed with pigeon dung, nameless ruins have been cropped back
To rubble.
In a feathery burst through air,
Itinerate doves
Interrupt evening’s nearest approaches. Straining
To rise above sunset’s concerns.
They drag aloft to their statuary nests
Empire’s newly subtracted straw tally.
Like tears across the hill’s face, they flit and chase their shadows.
The statuesque shoulder squeezes its great bulk through
Night’s narrow
Doorjamb.
The full form takes the full brunt
Of last light and a breeze
Roosting in warm, quiet hues upon its heights,
Barren except for the deconstruction of lares, poor and local.
Suffused by cindered air, the flaccid jewels
Of Rome, its modern city lights suddenly come out to see.
Will be praying for Mrs. L.
JOB,
I was mostly kidding. Of course I could have (and should have) taken more shots/footage of pagan goodness. But this really was a pilgrimage. The secular part, for me, was eating well. Thanks for the poem, though.
CM,
Thank you. She never gets sick. But Italian germs love a challenge. She broke down the day we left.
You take a mean photo.
Matthew,
Aw, I’m not that upset – although academically (as in the question is really academic) I believe that Rome, it can be argued, is the one city in which the pagan ruins are an integral part of sacred history and the sacred stuff is a part of secular history… (lions and gladiators and crucifixions, oh my!) The Eternal City does not distinguish. It’s the Roman Way.
A history of the word “pietas” is itself a lesson in the blending of secular and sacred…
But, that said, you have brought home a real trove of images. I look forward to hearing more about it.
Also, please give my best to Deirdre – and here’s my recipe for a hot toddy:
1 lemon
2 tablespoons honey
2-3 shots rum or brandy
1 large coffee cup of hot water
Boil water
Squeeze lemon and add juice
Add Honey
Add rum/brandy (2-3 shots – but maybe more: you know you have enough when the fumes emanating involuntarily cause your nostrils to wrinkle)
Stir well.
Serve.
Say goodnight.
Repeat as necessary.
JOB
JOB,
I would tend to agree. But they wouldn’t let us take pictures in the Villa Borghese… Still, one or two to come. Plus lots and lots of video.
Mark,
Why thank you. High praise considering the source. I’m happy to admit I have a little help from iPhoto. I didn’t want to use flash in most cases, and it’s nice to be able to up the Exposure a bit…
So long did you wait for that ray of sunlight to kiss St. Kate’s not-her-cheek? Or is that iPhoto too?
Do you know if “Santa Maria Sopra Minerva” means “Church of Holy Mary Built Right The **** On Top of Mighty Minerva’s Pagan Whorehouse?”
That’s exactly what it means. But the light on St. Kate is artificial. No iPhoto on that one, though.
Whoa…too much coffee. I’m trying to get an outline done.
I would like the first question answered, though, so your readers will just have to forgive the second.
Dang! That was quick service!