Imaginarea Daily

What’s a parenthesis? A means of catching one’s breath from the world or from an overly-long sentence, depending on how you look at it. Quite permissible, as long as it’s a visible suspension: let’s say a break from work or a longed-for weekend. A parenthesis is perfect when it comes to self-management and always knows when it’s time for the sentence to get back on track. During these very days, back in 1956, the Congress of the Italian Communist Party was opening in Rome and Italo Calvino decided not to take part… so he started writing “Il barone rampante” (“The Baron in the Trees”). In the novel, young Baron Cosimo Piovasco di Rondò decides to spend the rest of his life in the trees, far from the world, but not far enough to be estranged from it. And what happens when there is no closing bracket? “And she knew him and so herself, for although she had always known herself she had never been able to recognize it until now.” As he looks down on the world with a bird’s eye view, Cosimo finds love. As for us, we’ll never be able to find enough words to thank the author for having opened up his own personal parenthesis at that moment in time: in order to look down on the world during those December days, a pen and an inkpot were all he needed. Name Day: St Damasus I, Pope

In a well-known Italian novel, a certain Professor Bellavista, while giving one of his philosophy classes to his condominium neighbours, explains to them that Mankind is divided in two categories: “men of love” and “men of freedom”. The former prefer having a bath, because it’s a moment when they can let their imagination run free, the latter are in favour of taking a shower because it’s practical, quick and inexpensive. Men of love are endlessly hugging; men of freedom can only tolerate air. Men of freedom prefer Christmas trees, men of love prefer nativity crèches. Having made such a distinction, the novel’s author, Luciano De Crescenzo, divides the Italians – northerners and southerners, with Milan and Naples as their respective capitals – into these two categories. He then goes on to describe a dual Europe, where the art of loving is adopted by the Spaniards, Greeks and Irish, while the philosophy of self-importance is definitely the prerogative of the Scandinavians, Germans and British – the French being split between one side of the fence and the other. But it is a fact that the Neapolitan “suspended coffee” tradition (i.e. consuming a cup of coffee and paying for two so that a hard-on-their-luck customer can be served a coffee for free) has managed to win over also the Lombards, Gauls and Alemanni. Whether one goes north or south, “suspended groceries” are becoming increasingly commonplace, and rumour has even reached us of a suspended baguette tradition. If this means that the frontiers between emotions and cognition have been broken down, then we can safely say that the so-called men of love have transformed Europe into a cocktail in which diversities co-exist side-by-side… a wonderful “suspended world”, one might say. And to think it all started off with a cup of coffee! Name Day: St Maurus

Frozen food existed long before this gentleman came onto the scene, but the quality was so bad that New York State even banned it from its prisons. Clarence Birdseye got his breakthrough idea watching fishermen in Labrador preserving their catch for the winter months: the fish was frozen instantly under thick ice, reaching the required temperature of -40°C. But aside from masterminding the method itself, Birdseye was responsible for the creation of a whole series of allied industries: a large-scale distribution chain and logistics (and the USA is a pretty big country) that took into account the need for refrigerators, speedy deliveries and brand new trade processes. If we think of the quantity (and quality) of frozen foods that fill our stomachs and lives nowadays, this story certainly becomes quite colourful… The green leaves on our fish are a efficacious metaphor of the “evergreen world” that Clarence Birdseye succeeded in imagining and coordinating. Name Day: St Syrus

If one considers that the Church has a history of over 2,000 years, today’s feast day is a relatively recent one: it was instituted by Pope Pius IX only in 1854 and established, once and for all, that the mother of Jesus was conceived without sin. Whatever one’s religion is, this date gets the ‘metronome’ of expectancy ticking away, like a mother-to-be carrying her baby (after all, that is what the young Mary was). Today some of us will start putting up our trees, some will listen to an old “White Christmas” vinyl record, while others will mount a nativity scene, with figurines of shepherds and sheep. The fact is that from today until 25th December, what could be more apt than Gotthold Ephraim Lessing’s famous aphorism that awaiting pleasure is itself pleasure? We wish you an pleasurable start to the day: enjoy a moment of leisure as you have your breakfast, relish the unmistakable aroma of your coffee or tea as it wafts through the air… that’s the only way to ensure that the spirit of Christmas never grows cold. Name Day: Sant’Eutychian

St Ambrose, the patron saint of Milan is depicted with either a scourge or a honeycomb in his hand: impetus and ambrosian sweetness for a man – a layman, not even a baptised one – who was elected bishop by popular acclamation . Being bishop also meant being “mayor” because Ambrose ruled the city for the next 23 years. Come to think of it, scourges and bees are most apt symbols for representing the spirit of the Milanese: always at pains to achieve an ideal of perfection, and as proverbially busy as those noblest of insects… It’s no coincidence that of all Italian cities, Milan is the one that’s always the busiest redesigning itself over and over again – which may be why it’s celebrated all over the world as the capital of design. And that’s why our tribute to St Ambrose is the outline of Milan Cathedral – not drawn, but built with pencils! Name Day: St Ambrose

When talking about presents and reindeer, we should also remember Father Christmas’ medieval ancestor, St Nicholas, whose personal history seems quite distant from that of his jolly successor. Nicholas was born around 270 A.D. in what is present-day Turkey, was persecuted by the Emperor Diocletian and had his nose broken. Among his many, unconfirmed saintly deeds he is said to have rescued three girls from being forced into prostitution by giving them each a dowry, and resurrected three children who had been cut up and placed in a pickling jar by a wicked butcher. The fame of his boldness precedes him: at the Council of Nicaea, he allegedly lost his temper with a theologian with whom he disagreed and spat in his face. These incidents turned Nicholas into the patron saint of children to whom he brings gifts during the night between yesterday and today… Considering that the average age children stop believing in Father Christmas is getting lower and lower, St Nicholas would seem to have all the right credentials to become a modern hero for those who are slightly older. As for us, whenever we hear the song “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town” playing, let’s remember that the original Santa actually came last night and has very little in common with the old man in red who rides a sleigh and drinks Coca Cola – unless the name “Sankt Nikolaus” rings a (sleigh) bell…. Communications and language erase and redraw people and their stories. But we need to be careful: judging from his hagiography, our medieval hero could react in a somewhat hot-headed manner… Name Day: St Nicholas of Bari

We like to think that it’s no coincidence that Walt Disney was born twenty days before Santa Claus’s wondrous night; perhaps he was already preparing to share Santa’s chores (as well as the copyright of so many future gifts). But there’s also another side to this story because little Walt could only really be a child at Christmas: his father used to deliver the Kansas City newspapers door-to-door, forcing his children to the same. But, as we know, newspapers aren’t published on Christmas morning. We think of Walt Disney as a mix of genius, creativity, leadership, a multitasker and an organiser. When he was at the height of his popularity he often mused that he owed a lot to his approach and passions, but equally to that strict, early-morning discipline. We can just see little Walt out on his delivery run, pushing newspapers into letter boxes, but holding on to an imaginary towel. Growing up for him will mean never giving in, and never throwing in the towel either… nor the sponge! Name Day: St Sabbas

Apart from being the king of Milan, panettone  is one of those few Italian words that requires no translation. We know that in the 19th century, the traditional Italian Christmas cake took on shape that is so familiar to us today, so it’s in the 1800s that we’ll linger a little today. In a letter to their son, Teresa Borri, wife of Italian writer Alessandro Manzoni, wrote that her day had begun nicely, having slept and “panettoned” well (i.e. eaten lots of panettone). Words have their own onomatopoeia, and this verb makes us think of slinking around with Sunday-morning feline indolence, when we can put off dealing with all the things that need our attention… Mrs Manzoni may not have been the only one to use the aforesaid verb in those days, although it seems to have since become obsolete. However, we can still recover something of its fragrance: for example by gliding around languidly in spite of the Christmas shopping frenzy going on all around us… Name Day: St Barbara

If we were to choose an image to represent the lives of famous people and their children, it would be a comet whose tail – the child – eventually decides to detach itself from the parent star, leaving the latter to shine in all its brilliance. But the moment such children decide to go their own way, one can be sure that even the Milky Way will turn out to be a way that has been “paved” for them… That’s how it was for Anna Freud. The last of six children, when she was born her mother refused to nurse her while her father had already chosen a name for the new baby – had it been a boy. Nevertheless, Anna became his favourite child and, above all, the only one who continued in his footsteps, investigating something that Freud had, in a way, neglected: the Ego, squeezed as it was between the Id and the Superego. According to Anna, an investigation into the defence mechanisms of the Ego had to start with the observation of children’s behaviour; she devoted hours and hours to this in the nursery school which she founded in London in 1941 for children whose lives had been disrupted by the war bombings. Anna Freud’s ‘soft’ approach (which had also been inspired by the methods of Italian pedagogue Maria Montessori) often brought her into conflict with her colleague Melanie Klein and the latter’s belief that psychoanalysis was necessary also for three-year-olds. Anna disagreed strongly and felt that it was totally wrong to touch the little ones, even if only with ideas. Anna evidently believed it was important to fill even their first few months of life, in the cosiness of their playpens, with sweetness. Name Day: St Francis Xavier

One of the totally forbidden moves in Greco-Roman wrestling is the “neck hold”. And if our Greek prima donna could speak to us today, she might be able to recount several episodes when she either struck, or was herself struck, below the belt: her presumed collusion with German officers during the occupation of Greece, followed by those unhappy loves of hers, first with impresario Giovanni Battista Meneghini, then with Aristotle Onassis. And, last but not least, with film director Pier Paolo Pasolini who, unbeknownst to her, cut out her voice and had her dubbed in his film “Medea”  where she played the title role. At a certain point in her career also her vocal chords were cut short and never recovered. But what this “dramatic coloratura soprano” managed to accomplish during her heyday (from 1952 to 1957)  is unrivalled to this day. Callas had an incredibly wide-ranging, powerful and dark voice: they’re not our words, nor those of the critics, but of the public who to this day, and in all the languages under the sun, still leave comment on her videos on YouTube. Maria Callas died alone in Paris in 1977; her ashes were scattered in the Aegean Sea. This flower may not be the “sacred ancient plant” she sings about in “Norma” but, if unravelled and turned into a silk necktie, it’ll certainly be more comfortable that the infamous “neck hold”. Name Day: St Bibiana