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La Bella Figura: A Field Guide to the Italian Mind
La testa degli italiani resta l'ultima regione inesplorata del Paese, e vale un viaggio. Un viaggio attraverso l'Italia con amici stranieri, ai quali viene "tradotto" sistematicamente il Paese: le regole imperscrutabili della strada e l'anarchia ordinata di un ufficio, la loquacità dei treni e la saggezza di un albergo, la rassicurazione di una chiesa e l'affollamento in camera da letto, l'importanza di una spiaggia e la democrazia del soggiorno (anzi: del tinello).
Dieci giorni, trenta luoghi. Da nord a sud, dal cibo allo sport, dalla morale alla politica. Un'esplorazione ironica, metodica e sentimentale.
Dieci giorni, trenta luoghi. Da nord a sud, dal cibo allo sport, dalla morale alla politica. Un'esplorazione ironica, metodica e sentimentale.
217 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
About the author
Beppe Severgnini
49 books161 followersGiuseppe "Beppe" Severgnini (born December 26, 1956) is an Italian journalist, writer and columnist.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 228 reviews
March 24, 2011
Neither very enlightening nor very funny, this book does NOT do what it says on the tin. Yes, it's written in an easy and lightweight style, but it seemed to me to be empty of anything really revelatory or thought-provoking about its subject. Although it is framed as a 'journey' through Italy, it does little to evoke or describe the differences in temperament or landscape in the regions of the country. This book was full of the kinds of generalisation about Italy that I might have expected from a non-native, but seemed pretty unforgivable from an Italian writer. For anyone who wants to understand the complexities of Italy in a much more informed and nuanced way, I would recommend giving this little book a miss and trying Tobias Jones's "The Dark Heart of Italy".
May 9, 2010
While I learned that as an overthinker who flies by the seat of his pants when travelling, I may relate more to Italians than Americans, I think that's about all I learned.
Through a combination of strange prose and incomprehensible tangents, Beppe gets me more lost about his vision of Italy than a twisty Roman street. I set out to read the book to try to understand the country I'm about to visit and was left almost not wanting to visit it at all.
There were a few helpful tips (i.e. don't cross the road at walk signals, Italians don't necessarily respect red lights) but I think it's honestly written for Italians who already understand Italy and want to reflect on it, laugh at it (occasionally I did), and say, "hey, that's me." It's sort of worthless for foreigners - and I often got the impression that was not even the audience (despite the title).
This novel is in such sad shape that I actually learned more from the epilogue summarizing it from an American's viewpoint than I did from the rest of the book. I would have been better off making a photocopy of those pages to take to Italy and not wasting two weeks that could have been spent reading travel books (hint, hint, an Italian wouldn't mind breaking copyright for that purpose).
Through a combination of strange prose and incomprehensible tangents, Beppe gets me more lost about his vision of Italy than a twisty Roman street. I set out to read the book to try to understand the country I'm about to visit and was left almost not wanting to visit it at all.
There were a few helpful tips (i.e. don't cross the road at walk signals, Italians don't necessarily respect red lights) but I think it's honestly written for Italians who already understand Italy and want to reflect on it, laugh at it (occasionally I did), and say, "hey, that's me." It's sort of worthless for foreigners - and I often got the impression that was not even the audience (despite the title).
This novel is in such sad shape that I actually learned more from the epilogue summarizing it from an American's viewpoint than I did from the rest of the book. I would have been better off making a photocopy of those pages to take to Italy and not wasting two weeks that could have been spent reading travel books (hint, hint, an Italian wouldn't mind breaking copyright for that purpose).
September 8, 2012
See the original review here: http://justanotherbooknerd.tumblr.com...
I think it’s about time I take a break from fiction don’t you? Now, I am going to have to come clean here, my family have owned a property in Italy for many years and I have been going out there for a long time before that too. So what would make me want to read a book about a place I am already in love with despite the quite clearly obvious reason that I am already in love with it?
Well the answer is simple really, it’s Italy from the eyes of an Italian. You can go to your local book shop and spend hours looking through all the ‘Tuscany through my eyes’ type books written by Englishmen and Americans. To be honest it’s rather rare for an Italian to go ‘you know what, I’m tired of all this crap you write, here is an honest account of Italy.’
This book is that rarity, it’s the answer to a call for an honest insight into the way that Italians view their Italy. The book starts with one simple mantra. ‘Your Italy and my Italia are not the same thing.’
To be honest we can all relate to that point. The amount of things I hear about the English, only to sit there and reflect that it is utter nonsense is staggering. Do I say anything about it? Of course not, I’m English.
What we have here is an honest account of Italy that often had me nodding my head along in agreement and more often than not laughing out loud at it’s downright silliness. Severgnini doesn’t pull any punches either, he appears to be rather insightful into the ways of many cultures, often drawing fairly accurate comparisons to his own Italia.
Severgnini takes us through ten days in Italy, starting at the airport and moving through Milano, Napoli and Roma. He even comes quite close to where my family are in Casole D’elsa, which personally was quite a nice touch for me.
Throughout these ten days and your interactions with the Italian people you are going to gain an insight into just what is going through their minds when they see you, when they do the things they are doing or more often than not when they sit down doing not much at all.
Ordering a cappuccino after 11am? I don’t think you shall ever dare to do so again after reading this book. Like I said, a lot of this stuff I already knew so it was hilarious to read someone talking about it all so frankly and honestly. Before it had always seemed to be like a set of unwritten rules that the entire populous simply adhered to. Now however we have a witty, comical, insightful book with which we can use to completely disregard said rules (a common Italian trait).
If you’re interested in Italy or are planning a holiday there then this is probably going to be one of the best books that you could read in order to prepare yourself for the experience.
Of course you could always wing it, but I assure you, the Italians will judge you!
I think it’s about time I take a break from fiction don’t you? Now, I am going to have to come clean here, my family have owned a property in Italy for many years and I have been going out there for a long time before that too. So what would make me want to read a book about a place I am already in love with despite the quite clearly obvious reason that I am already in love with it?
Well the answer is simple really, it’s Italy from the eyes of an Italian. You can go to your local book shop and spend hours looking through all the ‘Tuscany through my eyes’ type books written by Englishmen and Americans. To be honest it’s rather rare for an Italian to go ‘you know what, I’m tired of all this crap you write, here is an honest account of Italy.’
This book is that rarity, it’s the answer to a call for an honest insight into the way that Italians view their Italy. The book starts with one simple mantra. ‘Your Italy and my Italia are not the same thing.’
To be honest we can all relate to that point. The amount of things I hear about the English, only to sit there and reflect that it is utter nonsense is staggering. Do I say anything about it? Of course not, I’m English.
What we have here is an honest account of Italy that often had me nodding my head along in agreement and more often than not laughing out loud at it’s downright silliness. Severgnini doesn’t pull any punches either, he appears to be rather insightful into the ways of many cultures, often drawing fairly accurate comparisons to his own Italia.
Severgnini takes us through ten days in Italy, starting at the airport and moving through Milano, Napoli and Roma. He even comes quite close to where my family are in Casole D’elsa, which personally was quite a nice touch for me.
Throughout these ten days and your interactions with the Italian people you are going to gain an insight into just what is going through their minds when they see you, when they do the things they are doing or more often than not when they sit down doing not much at all.
Ordering a cappuccino after 11am? I don’t think you shall ever dare to do so again after reading this book. Like I said, a lot of this stuff I already knew so it was hilarious to read someone talking about it all so frankly and honestly. Before it had always seemed to be like a set of unwritten rules that the entire populous simply adhered to. Now however we have a witty, comical, insightful book with which we can use to completely disregard said rules (a common Italian trait).
If you’re interested in Italy or are planning a holiday there then this is probably going to be one of the best books that you could read in order to prepare yourself for the experience.
Of course you could always wing it, but I assure you, the Italians will judge you!
Read
January 30, 2009I really enjoyed Severgnini's smart-ass sense of humor and wit. He's an Italian David Sedaris. He makes fun of and adores Italians at the same time, meanwhile pointing out all their contradictions, anxieties and passions in very Italian, self-effacing way. He says of Italians that they make fun of everything because they respect nothing, and he is not different. Like a comedian/anthropologist he dissects everything from the modern Italian family structure to the meaning of the Vespa and the telefonino (cell phone) to car language -- "a short toot of the horn means 'Hi!' a long one 'I hate you' and flashing lights means 'I'm after you!'"
He explains the difference between our concept of Italy and the Italian concept of Italia, if there is a unifying one. "Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. In Italia, you can go round and round in circles for years. Which of course is great fun." Italia is alive, hard to understand and fascinating it its contradctions and sensibilities. Italy is steeped in a romantic notion of the past, it is a museum.
I recommend the book to anyone who is interested in Italy or Italians.
He explains the difference between our concept of Italy and the Italian concept of Italia, if there is a unifying one. "Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. In Italia, you can go round and round in circles for years. Which of course is great fun." Italia is alive, hard to understand and fascinating it its contradctions and sensibilities. Italy is steeped in a romantic notion of the past, it is a museum.
I recommend the book to anyone who is interested in Italy or Italians.
August 13, 2010
If the author was narrating this book to you over dinner or drinks, I imagine it would be a charming way of passing the time. Or if it was just a travel column published once a week I'd probably be a fan. But lumped into a book the twee observations about Italians just seem to go on forever. The paragraphs all have the same rhythm to them and by the 30th time I'd read about how "Italians are (adjective) and (adjective), but also (contradiction) and (contradiction)!" my eyes just rolled back into my head out of sheer boredom. I wouldn't call the overall tone of the book smug, but it was definitely so pleased with all the clever observances it had that it would throw them all at the reader, whether they made any sense or not, in addition to the times Italian behavior was compared to American behavior I've never observed. The author is probably great fun to talk to, but the book needed a much more severe editor.
August 29, 2020
Non è il primo libro di Severgnini che leggo. Anche questa volta mi sono lasciata attirare dal ricordo della buona penna di un giornalista di costume, e se il ricordo ha trovato conferma, si è anche confermato il fatto che questo è il suo limite. Sembra di leggere una raccolta di colonnine scritte per la rubrica di costume di un quotidiano: facili, accattivanti, ironiche, scivolano via e non lasciano ricordi. Apparentemente rivolte agli stranieri, per spiegare loro che cosa passa per la testa degli Italiani, queste pagine che passano in rassegna tutta una casistica di italici comportamenti all’aeroporto, sulla spiaggia o in chiesa sono in realtà intelligibili solamente per la fauna locale, che ogni tanto sorride riconoscendo sé o il proprio vicino, ma non trova traccia di un approfondimento.
Anche lo stile, dal ritmo gradevolmente svelto, dalle assonanze colte, dopo qualche pagina mostra la corda, rivelando di essere fondato su non più di due o tre espedienti retorici: l’enumerazione (“memorie familiari e fantasie collettive, piazze e cimiteri, treni e traghetti, cartelli stradali e vocali musicali, sapore del vino e nomi delle vie, arie d’opera e cantautori, profumo nell’aria e tipo di luce, campi e retrobottega, caselli e castelli, abiti e giornali, brutta televisione e belle ricorrenze, eroi e presunti tali, scollature e scuole”), l’allitterazione (“Il nostro è un tramonto … festoso e fastoso”), l’allineamento paratattico (“il tasso di natalità è basso, gli investimenti latitano, le infrastrutture invecchiano, la ricerca stenta, e alcune cattive abitudini resistono”).
Insomma, trangugiato in due giorni sotto l’ombrellone, senza infamia e senza lode, passa e va.
Anche lo stile, dal ritmo gradevolmente svelto, dalle assonanze colte, dopo qualche pagina mostra la corda, rivelando di essere fondato su non più di due o tre espedienti retorici: l’enumerazione (“memorie familiari e fantasie collettive, piazze e cimiteri, treni e traghetti, cartelli stradali e vocali musicali, sapore del vino e nomi delle vie, arie d’opera e cantautori, profumo nell’aria e tipo di luce, campi e retrobottega, caselli e castelli, abiti e giornali, brutta televisione e belle ricorrenze, eroi e presunti tali, scollature e scuole”), l’allitterazione (“Il nostro è un tramonto … festoso e fastoso”), l’allineamento paratattico (“il tasso di natalità è basso, gli investimenti latitano, le infrastrutture invecchiano, la ricerca stenta, e alcune cattive abitudini resistono”).
Insomma, trangugiato in due giorni sotto l’ombrellone, senza infamia e senza lode, passa e va.
July 19, 2012
After living in Italy for a year, reading this book brought back memories and also explained a few hidden ideas in the Italian mind. Severini is hilarious in his description of his homeland but also acknowledges age-old problems that fill the country. I wouldn't recommend reading this book before your first trip to Italy because it will distort your view and may cause you to be hyper-critical. Read after you've been there a while or after you've left so you can laugh a bit. This book is filled with stereotypes and often generalizes Italians which obviously isn't true
Overall, entertaining and mostly true.
Overall, entertaining and mostly true.
October 2, 2007
I read this book on the plane to Italy, having already been there twice, I was hoping to gain further insight into the Italian psyche. I chose the wrong book. Mr. Severgnini did a disservice to his own people by keeping his observations facile and boring. I would not recommend this book to anyone. My advice -- if you want to learn about Italians, go to Italy and make friends with a local -- spend the $25 bucks buying them a pastry and a cafe' latte over some good conversation.
May 20, 2020
Great! I loved learning more about Italian culture and many things surprised me. I definitely would recommend giving this a read if anyone is interested in traveling to Italy or just wants to learn more about their customs and way of living. It’s very short and each chapter we “travel” to a different location in the beautiful Italia!
August 21, 2007
A fascinating look into Italian culture. Severgnini details the complexity of the Italian mind, from its attraction to all things beautiful, to its suspicion and personal interpretation of top-down authority (hence the "red lights are suggestions" thing.
Being an American completely in love with Italy (rolling amber hills, strong architecture, astounding artisitic genius), I found myself rethinking my view of this country. Now, my view is not shadowed, but it isn't idealistic either. I can now look at Italy more as Italia , which has its share of political strife, an erratic history of genius and disaster, arguments between North and South, and yet maintains a welcoming National character and a devotion to itself that rivals other great nations.
While a lot of Americans view Italy as quaint and idealistic, according to Severgnini, the national feeling is actually "complicated, angry, buried beneath rhetoric, sarcastic and camoflaged in cynicism. But it exists, and can even be gracious...Still there are many Italians who yearn for a better country, but no longer seem to be able to dream the dream." Yet he remains hopeful, which relieves me. As unpredictable as it can be, his Italy is still "a special place, and it's sad to watch it struggle."
Being an American completely in love with Italy (rolling amber hills, strong architecture, astounding artisitic genius), I found myself rethinking my view of this country. Now, my view is not shadowed, but it isn't idealistic either. I can now look at Italy more as Italia , which has its share of political strife, an erratic history of genius and disaster, arguments between North and South, and yet maintains a welcoming National character and a devotion to itself that rivals other great nations.
While a lot of Americans view Italy as quaint and idealistic, according to Severgnini, the national feeling is actually "complicated, angry, buried beneath rhetoric, sarcastic and camoflaged in cynicism. But it exists, and can even be gracious...Still there are many Italians who yearn for a better country, but no longer seem to be able to dream the dream." Yet he remains hopeful, which relieves me. As unpredictable as it can be, his Italy is still "a special place, and it's sad to watch it struggle."
February 5, 2013
Cảm giác giống như nói chuyện điện thoại với một người Ý. Anh ta đi khắp nước Ý, dừng lại đôi chỗ để ngắm một quảng trường đông đúc hay bãi biển rực nắng hè, vừa kể những cảnh trước mắt vừa liên tục bình luận về những chuyện ngày xửa ngày xưa và vô vàn dây mơ rễ má từ những thứ vụn vặt nhất đến bản tính nước Ý - cái lối tư duy đã ngấm vào máu anh chàng. Anh ta đùa cợt với mọi thứ, từ Machiavelli đến ông thủ tướng đương thời, từ bệnh viện đến nhà thờ,bằng một giọng trào phúng đáng yêu. Và mình lặng nghe, như một kẻ ngoại đạo.
Sách đọc rất dễ chịu, các phần, mục chẳng mấy liên kết nên có thể giở một trang bất kì và cứ thế đọc. Ngẫu hứng, như đầu óc người Ý.
Sách đọc rất dễ chịu, các phần, mục chẳng mấy liên kết nên có thể giở một trang bất kì và cứ thế đọc. Ngẫu hứng, như đầu óc người Ý.
November 18, 2017
Beppe Severgnini takes us on a tour of the Italian mind, and what a mind it is. Intelligent. Intuitive. Good intentions. Intimate. Genius. Gusto. Guts. Generosity.
Clever. Funny. Paradoxically true, which is always the truest sort of true.
Clever. Funny. Paradoxically true, which is always the truest sort of true.
June 3, 2008
Not so much a travel guide as a sociological exploration, this book is packed with fascinating insights and telling weaknesses. The author, an Italian that has worked as an English journalist at The Economist and other venues, explains the difference between Italy and Italia - the former being an imaginative invention of the English later adopted by the Americans, and the latter being the real thing. But, don't worry about remembering which is which, because after explaining both the difference and its importance, he then proceeds to refer to both ideas with the uniform monikor "Italy" for the rest of the text.
Still, it was thrilling, as an American living in Italy, to see an Italian author write "Italians prefer good looks to good answers," "we like nice gestures so much we prefer them to good behavior" and "In Italy rules are not obeyed as elsewhere"! Oh, beautiful and soothing it is to see that it's not just me sensing these realities!!!
On that last one he elaborates: "We think it's an insult to our intelligence to comply with regulation. Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time." He cites this in regards to traffic laws, taxes, religion - you see everybody, I have not been making this up!!
There are many fascinating tidbits to be gleaned, such as a fascinating 2page history of the Vespa, the history of the word "ciao" and the fact that in the last 50 years the population of Italy has "risen by nine million but the number of available bedrooms has shot up from thirty-five million to one hundred and twenty-million."
Severgnini made me quite glad by pointing out a distinctive characteristic of nearly all the Italian literature I've read and tried to read: "The average American novelist will write, 'She went to the window and said...' An Italian writer will dedicate a page to the complex psychological process that prompted the character first to go to the window and then to open her mouth." And, my bet is he's talking about the NON fiction!! And, it would be funnier if he were exagerating.
Then there's a characteristic of Italian journalism that he actually himself demonstrates when with very little pretense he writes, "Some people have even tried to play down the awful scene in the Champions League derby match with AC Milan, which was suspended live on television to the entire world in a deluge of rockets and bottles." ...the awful scene??? What awful scene!? Like most Italian journalists I find here, he doesn't actually tell what happened, he just gives his opinion about what happened. Sure, soccer is a big part of Italian culture, but not for 100% of Italians (that's Italy, not Italia) and much more relevantly, it would seem that the book that uses "we" to mean Italians and "you" to mean the reader would be intended for non-Italians who would have to be at least a little bit less likely to know what on earth he is talking about if he doesn't tell us what on earth he is talking about!
And it's the same in spoke communication as well: "Speaking abstrusely is, for many, a source of pride...It doesn't matter if the listener or the reader understands nothing." But, you are to be very impressed by the fancy words they are using and the strikingly obscure subjects they mention.
Most useful and interesting to me were his spectacular clarification of the success of Silvio Berlusconi in Italy, his debunking of the dual legends of the luxurious Naples and slack jawed Naepolitians, and his the incredibly extensive list of cultural observations and affirmations that I fit only a small glimpse of here.
I found many of the ideas not mentioned here to be either grossly-self delusional or typically glazed over, but that there was enough honesty and insight to more than counterbalance that, as in that this has become the most interesting cultural examination of Italy that I have yet come across. The reason I give the book 5 stars and the reason that I will be recommending it to many of my friends is because of his effective and ringing claim that "If Italy doesn't leave you bewildered, it means it has conned you."
Still, it was thrilling, as an American living in Italy, to see an Italian author write "Italians prefer good looks to good answers," "we like nice gestures so much we prefer them to good behavior" and "In Italy rules are not obeyed as elsewhere"! Oh, beautiful and soothing it is to see that it's not just me sensing these realities!!!
On that last one he elaborates: "We think it's an insult to our intelligence to comply with regulation. Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time." He cites this in regards to traffic laws, taxes, religion - you see everybody, I have not been making this up!!
There are many fascinating tidbits to be gleaned, such as a fascinating 2page history of the Vespa, the history of the word "ciao" and the fact that in the last 50 years the population of Italy has "risen by nine million but the number of available bedrooms has shot up from thirty-five million to one hundred and twenty-million."
Severgnini made me quite glad by pointing out a distinctive characteristic of nearly all the Italian literature I've read and tried to read: "The average American novelist will write, 'She went to the window and said...' An Italian writer will dedicate a page to the complex psychological process that prompted the character first to go to the window and then to open her mouth." And, my bet is he's talking about the NON fiction!! And, it would be funnier if he were exagerating.
Then there's a characteristic of Italian journalism that he actually himself demonstrates when with very little pretense he writes, "Some people have even tried to play down the awful scene in the Champions League derby match with AC Milan, which was suspended live on television to the entire world in a deluge of rockets and bottles." ...the awful scene??? What awful scene!? Like most Italian journalists I find here, he doesn't actually tell what happened, he just gives his opinion about what happened. Sure, soccer is a big part of Italian culture, but not for 100% of Italians (that's Italy, not Italia) and much more relevantly, it would seem that the book that uses "we" to mean Italians and "you" to mean the reader would be intended for non-Italians who would have to be at least a little bit less likely to know what on earth he is talking about if he doesn't tell us what on earth he is talking about!
And it's the same in spoke communication as well: "Speaking abstrusely is, for many, a source of pride...It doesn't matter if the listener or the reader understands nothing." But, you are to be very impressed by the fancy words they are using and the strikingly obscure subjects they mention.
Most useful and interesting to me were his spectacular clarification of the success of Silvio Berlusconi in Italy, his debunking of the dual legends of the luxurious Naples and slack jawed Naepolitians, and his the incredibly extensive list of cultural observations and affirmations that I fit only a small glimpse of here.
I found many of the ideas not mentioned here to be either grossly-self delusional or typically glazed over, but that there was enough honesty and insight to more than counterbalance that, as in that this has become the most interesting cultural examination of Italy that I have yet come across. The reason I give the book 5 stars and the reason that I will be recommending it to many of my friends is because of his effective and ringing claim that "If Italy doesn't leave you bewildered, it means it has conned you."
October 15, 2014
The premise of the book was intriguing: learn about Italy from an Italian's point of view. However, it was only when I read in the last pages of the book (after the conclusion of the story) that this book was a number 1 seller in Italy (and not America) that I realized why the book didn't absolutely grab me. The author is humorous and clearly well educated on his subject. Unfortunately for me (an Italian enthusiast, even), many of the references were too obscure. The tales jumped all over the place with little or no segue. For as detailed as he described many of the scenes, I couldn't get a clear vision of what Beppe was showing me. For as funny as he tried to be, I didn't understand all the jokes. There were two places in the book that really drew me in, and that was because I had actually experienced them before. As evidenced by the book's popularity in Italy, I think Beppe Severgnini is great at telling a story to the people who already know it, but lacks in the ability to properly include those of us he is trying to educate.
I found the summary of the book in the form of the epilogue to be sufficient and better suited to tell the story than the previous 209 pages. If you want to know more about Italia, I'd recommend starting with the epilogue to this book. If you're further intrigued by some of the statements there, go ahead and start from the beginning.
That said, I might consider picking up his other book, Ciao America! to see if I can relate better to that story and give his promising writing style another chance.
I found the summary of the book in the form of the epilogue to be sufficient and better suited to tell the story than the previous 209 pages. If you want to know more about Italia, I'd recommend starting with the epilogue to this book. If you're further intrigued by some of the statements there, go ahead and start from the beginning.
That said, I might consider picking up his other book, Ciao America! to see if I can relate better to that story and give his promising writing style another chance.
May 15, 2011
This "New York Times Bestseller" is awful. The book consists of general observations that are either obvious, ill-founded, or applicable to almost any culture, if they make sense at all. Here is an example, from page 6:
Ours is a sophisticated exhibitionism that has no need of an audience. Italians are psychologically self-sufficient. What's the problem? Well, we like nice gestures so much we prefer them to good behavior. Gestures gratify, but behaving takes an effort. Still, the sum of ten good deeds does not make a person good, just as ten sins do not necessarily add up to a sinner. Theologians distinguish between actum and habitus: a single incident is not as serious as a "habit," or "practice."What does that even mean? It's confusion and tangents masquerading as profundity. Are Italians really "psychologically self-sufficient"? Doubtful, and Severgnini doesn't make any case for it. Do Italians prefer good gestures or habitual good behavior? Severgnini makes one statement, then argues for the other side. The entire book (which I quickly disposed of, otherwise you'd get more quotes) reads this way. It's not a funny book, either, despite what some reviewers and the jacket copy might say. Definitely avoid.
In other words, if you want to understand Italy, forget the guidebooks. Study theology.
September 14, 2012
"Forse questo sentimento nazionale è tradizione, forse è abitudine, forse è solo una pausa che si concede chi ha litigato troppo. Probabilmente, mescolato al resto contiene un po' di rimpianto: perché sappiamo, in fondo, che le nostre virtù sono inimitabili, mentre i difetti sarebbero correggibili. Basta volerli correggere. Basta convincersi che la testa degli italiani è un gioiello, non un alibi."
Leggendo i molti commenti negativi e legittimi dei lettori stranieri, suppongo il libro di Severgnini sia più adatto agli italiani. Non perché non concordo con le critiche ma perché non le capisco, così come loro non hanno capito l'autore. Forse dovrebbero farsi dare delle ripetizioni per riempire le lacune. Non hanno colto il vero spirito del libro, non hanno assaporato veramente l'atmosfera italiana, non l'hanno percepita quando sono stati in Italia, se ci sono stati.
Da brava italiana ho apprezzato questo divertente viaggio in compagnia di Beppe condito con sana ironia, piacevole analisi sociologica e un pizzico di sentimentalismo nazionale che a volte vogliamo nascondere troppo.
Leggendo i molti commenti negativi e legittimi dei lettori stranieri, suppongo il libro di Severgnini sia più adatto agli italiani. Non perché non concordo con le critiche ma perché non le capisco, così come loro non hanno capito l'autore. Forse dovrebbero farsi dare delle ripetizioni per riempire le lacune. Non hanno colto il vero spirito del libro, non hanno assaporato veramente l'atmosfera italiana, non l'hanno percepita quando sono stati in Italia, se ci sono stati.
Da brava italiana ho apprezzato questo divertente viaggio in compagnia di Beppe condito con sana ironia, piacevole analisi sociologica e un pizzico di sentimentalismo nazionale che a volte vogliamo nascondere troppo.
September 8, 2011
Well, I was hoping to learn a lot about Italy from this book; but I did something that I rarely do...I put it down before I got to the end. While I learned a couple of possibly useful tidbits, like the table fee at restaurants and the fact that pedestrians are more like target practice for drivers, overall I felt like this was written with SWEEPING generalizations. And the generalizations weren't limited to the Italians, they were also applied to Americans, Britains, Germans, etc. Since I'm trying to gain some insight into Italy before an upcoming trip, I thought it best to find a more practical source of information than this. I will say that Beppe does have a sarcastic sense of humor from time to time that I quite enjoyed; it just wasn't enough to keep me interested.
March 18, 2018
Most of the observations in this book - as far as I can see - are not specific or unique to Italy but could be attributed to almost any country or culture, particularly 'Western' countries. The author relies on tired and tiresome stereotypes to illustrate what one country (UK, USA, Germany, France) does differently to Italy and Italians, none of which are true, at least not anymore. Even if there is something interesting that he touches upon, it is explained in so little detail that it offers no insight. Rather, it reads more like an ageing man's gripes with the modern world and modern culture, hearkening back to some simpler time. Overall, not one to try if you want to learn more about Italy, nor for any other reason.
September 1, 2011
Tôi cứ nghĩ rằng mình sẽ thích cuốn này lắm lắm. Tác giả sử dụng đủ các biệt pháp từ liệt kê, so sánh và đặc biệt là rất nhiều trích dẫn, có đồng ý lần không đồng ý. Ngay cả cách dẫn dắt vấn đề bằng chuyến du lịch vòng quanh nước Ý trong vòng mười ngày cũng đã thể hiện việc viết cuốn sách của tác giả là có chủ định, chứ không phải tùy hứng như nhiều người. Đoạn đầu khá hài hước và dễ chịu, sẵn sàng cho *** liền, nhưng về sau thì hơi ngấy. Phải chăng vì tôi đã đọc quá dồn dập hay vì hồi giờ vốn mù tịt về Ý nên không hiểu hết những gì tác giả nói? (Mà cũng có thể là cả hai lắm chứ). Dẫu sao thì đây cũng là một cuốn sách có thể đọc qua một lần ngay cả khi bạn không hề có ý định đến Ý.
April 26, 2015
This book never met my expectation and curiosity. I bought it to read about the Italian culture and tradition and how life is like in Italy. I figured out that the book is very far off what I thought it would be. How the Italians park their cars, traffic in the roads, how they shop in malls, blah blah blah !!!.
I didn't read the whole book. I stopped reading it after finishing the first half of it.
And definitely I won't read it again...it is a waste of papers and time.
I didn't read the whole book. I stopped reading it after finishing the first half of it.
And definitely I won't read it again...it is a waste of papers and time.
September 21, 2010
Read this before going to Italy! Funny. Inspiring. Thought-provoking. I really felt as though I had received an excellent introduction to the Italian mindset!
August 22, 2020
This book is about Italy from the eyes of an Italian native. In the beginning, the author says, ‘Your Italy and my Italia are not the same things.’ Of course, they are not. Italians live an everyday life made of routine and common places, such as paying bills, going to work, caring for the family, and doing the usual things. Foreigners fantasize of being in Italy to soak in the beauty of the arts, tasting food and wines, experiencing life with as little rules as possible (we are known as unruly), the gestures and the creative life Italians lead.
The way he portrays “his Italia” is harsh, complicated, hard to understand to others, full of contradictions, generalizations, and ancient rules. He distorts the view of us Italians in a way that almost prefers foreigners would not go to Italy because it is a scary place. Bella figura translates as “To Make a Good Impressions”. Italians are very cordial and want to impress everyone they come in contact with, especially foreigners.
The book is amusing and ironic, but as a native Italian, I expected the author, to bring out that good character Italians have, all the good products we make of which we are proud of, and he could have been a bit more reverent about the country.
The way he portrays “his Italia” is harsh, complicated, hard to understand to others, full of contradictions, generalizations, and ancient rules. He distorts the view of us Italians in a way that almost prefers foreigners would not go to Italy because it is a scary place. Bella figura translates as “To Make a Good Impressions”. Italians are very cordial and want to impress everyone they come in contact with, especially foreigners.
The book is amusing and ironic, but as a native Italian, I expected the author, to bring out that good character Italians have, all the good products we make of which we are proud of, and he could have been a bit more reverent about the country.
Read
September 18, 2021I greatly enjoyed this funny exploration of the Italian predilections for chaotic beauty, beautiful chaos, contradictions both surprising and predictable, and passion for the present moment and the noble past.
November 2, 2017
Analisi mediocri, a tratti spiritose, macchiettistiche.
Risente molto degli anni, nonostante non sia vecchio (anni '90).
Risente molto degli anni, nonostante non sia vecchio (anni '90).
October 8, 2018
Много интелигентно поднесен опит за италианска народопсихология. Искрено се забавлявах.
March 22, 2024
★★★★☆ (4/5)
A selection of my favorite passages
• Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on.
• Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. In Italia, you can go round and round in circles for years.
• It's the kind of place that can have you fuming and then purring in the space of a hundred meters, or the course of ten minutes. Italy is the only workshop in the world that can turn out both Botticellis and Berlusconis.
• Authority has been making Italians uneasy for centuries, so we have developed an arsenal of countermeasures, from flattery to indifference, familiarity, complicity, apparent hostility, and feigned admiration.
• We judge books by their covers, politicians by their smiles, professionals by their offices, secretaries by their posture, table lamps by their design, cars by their styling, and people by their title. It's no coincidence that one Italian in four is president of something.
• we like nice gestures so much we prefer them to good behavior. Gestures gratify, but behaving takes an effort. Still, the sum of ten good deeds does not make a person good, just as ten sins do not necessarily add up to a sinner. Theologians distinguish between actum and habitus: a single incident is not as serious as a “habit,” or “practice.”
• We think it's an insult to our intelligence to comply with a regulation. Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time.
• people know what to choose and what to avoid. If they choose the wrong starter, it's because they want to be able to complain later. In its own way that, too, is a touch of sophistication.
• If we want to save the Italian way of eating, we have to focus on pride and distrust, qualities we have in abundance.
• Take Samuel Johnson, for example. He said, “A man who has not been in Italy, is always conscious of an inferiority.”
• People want to look inside a table lamp, touch a suitcase, listen to an explanation, sniff a carpet, or sneak an olive and talk about the flavor. That's one reason why e-commerce hasn't taken off in Italy. There are some things you can't do on the Web. Italians are sensitive, curious, and diffident. We don't even like goods in sealed packages. We wonder what the cellophane is trying to hide from us.
• If we had Scottish weather in Italy, there would have been several revolutions. Instead, we lodged the occasional protest, made a lot of promises, and talked.
• The family is a bank. Loans for first homes almost invariably come from parents. There are no formalities, no interest, and quite often no obligation to repay the capital.
• The Italian family is an employment agency. One Italian in three admits to finding a job through relatives.
• The Italian family is a market where nothing is sold, lots of stuff is given away, and everything is haggled over.
• The family is an infirmary. It's the place where flu-blighted Italian males crawl for shelter, glowering like wounded animals.
• The “strange multitude of little things necessary” that consoled Robinson Crusoe can also be found in an Italian bedroom. It's the same blend of found and brought objects, with the same striving for self-sufficiency.
• An apartment, noted the French writer Julien Green in the 1960s, is a forest with clearings, quiet rooms, then “zones of horror” and “crossroads of fear.”
• As you know, social sensuality is nonexistent in the U.S. Over there, modesty is the official norm and pornography is an industry, but little light is shed on the vast space in between.
• Stations disclose an interesting Italy. There is a stratification of habits and memories that the Italian railway company has decided not to disturb. Efficiency has suffered, but the atmosphere has benefited enormously.
• Do you know why members of Parliament never agree but “register a substantial identity of opinion”? Or why it never rains on the weather forecast but “some precipitation is foreseen following an intensification of cloud cover”? It's because verbal complexity is a form of protection (“ I was misunderstood”), a decoration (“ See how well educated I am?”), and a declaration of belonging (“ I am a member of the caste of doctors, weather forecasters, or lawyers, and I'm sorry but that's how we talk”).
• When an Italian laugh arrives, it comes from the belly. A British laugh descends from the brain. An American guffaw comes from the heart and emerges from the mouth. A German laugh starts in the belly and stays there.
• We have learned to appreciate Italy's national genius in an export format, particularly when it coincides with an event, a special occasion, or a moment we will be able to talk about.
• Television in Italy is as exotic as an airport, as unruly as a city street, as hypnotic as a hotel, as perturbing as a store, as ever-changing as a restaurant, as noisy as a train, as deceiving as the countryside, as instructive as a piazza, and as ubiquitous as churches. But if the churches are emptying, television holds on to its faithful. Fifty years ago, people talked about the television of the people. Nowadays, we are the people of the television.
• He understood that millions of Italians dream of doing a bit of sinning, repenting sincerely, and then starting all over again. “Guys,” he said, “I've got just what you're looking for.”
• until now Italy has avoided certain social divides, despite our limits and lazinesses. We don't have endemic alcoholism, or epidemics of teenage pregnancies. There are no sports for the poor and sports for the rich, or working-class schools and middle-class schools. Italy is an unruly nation, but uniform in its unruliness.
• That's Italy's signature shape, the profile of old scooters, young breasts, bread on the table, and the classic Lancia Appia automobile.
• computer shopping robs us of the tactile pleasures of choosing and purchasing. Physical perceptions are also part of the Catholic liturgy, in which the senses support the spirit. In fact, you could say that e-commerce is a Protestant invention— sensible, but unsatisfying.
• The social piazza is appreciated by residents, who look to it for routine and reassurance. Out-of-towners also use it as a point of reference. Look how people sit in an Italian piazza: on benches, steps, bicycles, motorbikes, walls, railings, curbstones, and chairs in cafés. We watch life drift by from these theater boxes. Every generation renews its subscription, after first swearing it won't.
• The idea that Italians are ungovernable has always appealed to those who don't want to govern us. The myth that Italy is past redemption suits a lot of people. It saves them the bother of redeeming us. Remember that the inevitability of lawlessness is a falsehood.
• In the rest of Europe, people tend to stand in straight lines. Here we favor more artistic configurations, such as waves, parabolas, herringbone patterns, hordes, groups, and clusters. Our choreography complicates waiting, but brightens our lives.
• The Finns own proportionately more cell phones than we do. They'd be very happy to use them all the time, but they don't know who to call. We Italians know only too well.
• The second reason we do not like to talk about money is that we are afraid someone might be listening. We fear fate, which should not be tempted. We fear others, who should not be provoked. And we fear the tax authorities, especially when we declare ridiculously low incomes. So, when we talk about money, the same golden rule holds true: speak softly, deal in cash, and err on the side of caution.
• We Italians like to decide when the general rule is applicable to our specific case. The same is true for taxes. We are our own tax authorities, and almost always magnanimously decide not to collect.
• your status in the company is proportionate to your ability to avoid meetings.
• The nation that, according to journalist Leo Longanesi, wanted to rebel against authority with a permit from the police has grown up but not changed. Few want to take all-or-nothing risks.
• For more than half a century, one lira was a theoretical concept. To amount to anything, the lira had to be in a group, like sardines or schoolgirls. The monetary unit we do miss is a nice round number, the million.
• Outside schools, bars, and restaurants, the sidewalk is the appointed venue for intalliamento, the practice of hanging out while you decide what to do, reflect on life, nibble a snack, and observe the world. This form of hanging out is a fascinating Italian habit. Many foreigners mistake it for indecision, but it's actually a preliminary. It's the anticipation of pleasure, and demands a certain skill.
• I'm talking about the Potential Driver, who has found a parking space— improbable, improvised, or just plain impermissible— and has no intention of giving it up.
• This sort of abstruse lucubration is exclusively Italian. People think like that in Milan, too, but in Naples the reasoning has an esoteric dimension. Though I don't believe it, there's an urban legend that says when the pedestrian lines fade away they aren't repainted: they might encourage someone's suicidal presumption that you can step off the sidewalk without looking. Where there aren't any lines, things are left up to the sharpness of the pedestrian's eye and the generosity of the motorist's heart.
• Comments on Prague are equally interesting. It's a city that Italians go wild over, even if no one can explain why. What comes out is a mixed salad of romance and literature in which Kafka is the tomato but no one knows the names of the greens.
• If an Englishman's home is his castle, an Italian's garden is his Eden, a place of privilege and temptation. There are no serpents, but there are neighbors.
• In a small town, we don't just want a congenial barber and a well-stocked newsstand. We want professionally made coffee and a proper pizza. We want a couple of streets to stroll down, an avenue to jog along, a pool to swim in, and a cinema for a bit of entertainment. We want a functioning courthouse, a reassuring hospital, a consoling church, and an unintimidating cemetery We want a new university and an old theater house. We want soccer fields, and city councilors we can pester in the bar. We want to see the mountains beyond the grade crossing when the weather's good and the air is clear. We want footsteps on cobbled streets in the night, yellow lights to tinge the mist, and bell towers we can recognize from a distance. We want doctors and lawyers who can translate abstract concepts into our dialect— my father can— and people with a kind word and a smile for everyone.
• We Italians continue to argue over the fascism we had, the communism we nearly had, the terrorism we tasted, and the corruption we tolerated. Our digestive process is extremely slow, and induces chronic headaches.
• In millions of Italians, there exists— sorry, there resists— an astonishing acceptance of obscurity from authority of any kind, be it political, judicial, administrative, medical, or academic.
• But Italy is disconcerting even in its defects. Just as you are about to write the country off as shallow, it reveals unsuspected depths. And when you look into the depths, the surface becomes a mirror.
• In fact, school is a perfect thumbnail sketch of the way we are. It is an example of brilliant imperfection, with peaks of excellence and abysses of inefficiency.
• Ours is a bonsai nationalism born in school corridors like this one. It shuffles between the desks, steps shyly through the schoolbooks, slides through the identical class registers, and emerges in a party dressed up as an ordeal, the maturità. From then on, our patriotism survives on private means and memories.
�� Italians are a moral people, but our morality, like our law, has to be tailored to fit. We have an à la carte approach. Everyone selects what he or she wants, according to conscience and convenience. Religion is still fundamental, but the menu is long, and the dishes varied.
• Pleasures compensate for oppression, and help to bear it.
• Our sun is setting in installments. It's festive and flamboyant, but it's still a sunset. Many non-Italians are surprised that such a dazzling nation should seem so tired and cynical.
• Italy's good qualities are the inimitable product of centuries of history. Its failings are the annoying consequence of civic idleness. That's why you added that Italy is the kind of place that can have you fuming and then purring in the space of a hundred meters, or the course of ten minutes.
• You explained, and we agreed, that intelligence is overused to the point of exasperation in Italy. You don't just want to decide “what kind of red” a stoplight is. If it lasts a second or two longer than expected, people think it's out of order and go through it anyway.
A selection of my favorite passages
• Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on.
• Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. In Italia, you can go round and round in circles for years.
• It's the kind of place that can have you fuming and then purring in the space of a hundred meters, or the course of ten minutes. Italy is the only workshop in the world that can turn out both Botticellis and Berlusconis.
• Authority has been making Italians uneasy for centuries, so we have developed an arsenal of countermeasures, from flattery to indifference, familiarity, complicity, apparent hostility, and feigned admiration.
• We judge books by their covers, politicians by their smiles, professionals by their offices, secretaries by their posture, table lamps by their design, cars by their styling, and people by their title. It's no coincidence that one Italian in four is president of something.
• we like nice gestures so much we prefer them to good behavior. Gestures gratify, but behaving takes an effort. Still, the sum of ten good deeds does not make a person good, just as ten sins do not necessarily add up to a sinner. Theologians distinguish between actum and habitus: a single incident is not as serious as a “habit,” or “practice.”
• We think it's an insult to our intelligence to comply with a regulation. Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time.
• people know what to choose and what to avoid. If they choose the wrong starter, it's because they want to be able to complain later. In its own way that, too, is a touch of sophistication.
• If we want to save the Italian way of eating, we have to focus on pride and distrust, qualities we have in abundance.
• Take Samuel Johnson, for example. He said, “A man who has not been in Italy, is always conscious of an inferiority.”
• People want to look inside a table lamp, touch a suitcase, listen to an explanation, sniff a carpet, or sneak an olive and talk about the flavor. That's one reason why e-commerce hasn't taken off in Italy. There are some things you can't do on the Web. Italians are sensitive, curious, and diffident. We don't even like goods in sealed packages. We wonder what the cellophane is trying to hide from us.
• If we had Scottish weather in Italy, there would have been several revolutions. Instead, we lodged the occasional protest, made a lot of promises, and talked.
• The family is a bank. Loans for first homes almost invariably come from parents. There are no formalities, no interest, and quite often no obligation to repay the capital.
• The Italian family is an employment agency. One Italian in three admits to finding a job through relatives.
• The Italian family is a market where nothing is sold, lots of stuff is given away, and everything is haggled over.
• The family is an infirmary. It's the place where flu-blighted Italian males crawl for shelter, glowering like wounded animals.
• The “strange multitude of little things necessary” that consoled Robinson Crusoe can also be found in an Italian bedroom. It's the same blend of found and brought objects, with the same striving for self-sufficiency.
• An apartment, noted the French writer Julien Green in the 1960s, is a forest with clearings, quiet rooms, then “zones of horror” and “crossroads of fear.”
• As you know, social sensuality is nonexistent in the U.S. Over there, modesty is the official norm and pornography is an industry, but little light is shed on the vast space in between.
• Stations disclose an interesting Italy. There is a stratification of habits and memories that the Italian railway company has decided not to disturb. Efficiency has suffered, but the atmosphere has benefited enormously.
• Do you know why members of Parliament never agree but “register a substantial identity of opinion”? Or why it never rains on the weather forecast but “some precipitation is foreseen following an intensification of cloud cover”? It's because verbal complexity is a form of protection (“ I was misunderstood”), a decoration (“ See how well educated I am?”), and a declaration of belonging (“ I am a member of the caste of doctors, weather forecasters, or lawyers, and I'm sorry but that's how we talk”).
• When an Italian laugh arrives, it comes from the belly. A British laugh descends from the brain. An American guffaw comes from the heart and emerges from the mouth. A German laugh starts in the belly and stays there.
• We have learned to appreciate Italy's national genius in an export format, particularly when it coincides with an event, a special occasion, or a moment we will be able to talk about.
• Television in Italy is as exotic as an airport, as unruly as a city street, as hypnotic as a hotel, as perturbing as a store, as ever-changing as a restaurant, as noisy as a train, as deceiving as the countryside, as instructive as a piazza, and as ubiquitous as churches. But if the churches are emptying, television holds on to its faithful. Fifty years ago, people talked about the television of the people. Nowadays, we are the people of the television.
• He understood that millions of Italians dream of doing a bit of sinning, repenting sincerely, and then starting all over again. “Guys,” he said, “I've got just what you're looking for.”
• until now Italy has avoided certain social divides, despite our limits and lazinesses. We don't have endemic alcoholism, or epidemics of teenage pregnancies. There are no sports for the poor and sports for the rich, or working-class schools and middle-class schools. Italy is an unruly nation, but uniform in its unruliness.
• That's Italy's signature shape, the profile of old scooters, young breasts, bread on the table, and the classic Lancia Appia automobile.
• computer shopping robs us of the tactile pleasures of choosing and purchasing. Physical perceptions are also part of the Catholic liturgy, in which the senses support the spirit. In fact, you could say that e-commerce is a Protestant invention— sensible, but unsatisfying.
• The social piazza is appreciated by residents, who look to it for routine and reassurance. Out-of-towners also use it as a point of reference. Look how people sit in an Italian piazza: on benches, steps, bicycles, motorbikes, walls, railings, curbstones, and chairs in cafés. We watch life drift by from these theater boxes. Every generation renews its subscription, after first swearing it won't.
• The idea that Italians are ungovernable has always appealed to those who don't want to govern us. The myth that Italy is past redemption suits a lot of people. It saves them the bother of redeeming us. Remember that the inevitability of lawlessness is a falsehood.
• In the rest of Europe, people tend to stand in straight lines. Here we favor more artistic configurations, such as waves, parabolas, herringbone patterns, hordes, groups, and clusters. Our choreography complicates waiting, but brightens our lives.
• The Finns own proportionately more cell phones than we do. They'd be very happy to use them all the time, but they don't know who to call. We Italians know only too well.
• The second reason we do not like to talk about money is that we are afraid someone might be listening. We fear fate, which should not be tempted. We fear others, who should not be provoked. And we fear the tax authorities, especially when we declare ridiculously low incomes. So, when we talk about money, the same golden rule holds true: speak softly, deal in cash, and err on the side of caution.
• We Italians like to decide when the general rule is applicable to our specific case. The same is true for taxes. We are our own tax authorities, and almost always magnanimously decide not to collect.
• your status in the company is proportionate to your ability to avoid meetings.
• The nation that, according to journalist Leo Longanesi, wanted to rebel against authority with a permit from the police has grown up but not changed. Few want to take all-or-nothing risks.
• For more than half a century, one lira was a theoretical concept. To amount to anything, the lira had to be in a group, like sardines or schoolgirls. The monetary unit we do miss is a nice round number, the million.
• Outside schools, bars, and restaurants, the sidewalk is the appointed venue for intalliamento, the practice of hanging out while you decide what to do, reflect on life, nibble a snack, and observe the world. This form of hanging out is a fascinating Italian habit. Many foreigners mistake it for indecision, but it's actually a preliminary. It's the anticipation of pleasure, and demands a certain skill.
• I'm talking about the Potential Driver, who has found a parking space— improbable, improvised, or just plain impermissible— and has no intention of giving it up.
• This sort of abstruse lucubration is exclusively Italian. People think like that in Milan, too, but in Naples the reasoning has an esoteric dimension. Though I don't believe it, there's an urban legend that says when the pedestrian lines fade away they aren't repainted: they might encourage someone's suicidal presumption that you can step off the sidewalk without looking. Where there aren't any lines, things are left up to the sharpness of the pedestrian's eye and the generosity of the motorist's heart.
• Comments on Prague are equally interesting. It's a city that Italians go wild over, even if no one can explain why. What comes out is a mixed salad of romance and literature in which Kafka is the tomato but no one knows the names of the greens.
• If an Englishman's home is his castle, an Italian's garden is his Eden, a place of privilege and temptation. There are no serpents, but there are neighbors.
• In a small town, we don't just want a congenial barber and a well-stocked newsstand. We want professionally made coffee and a proper pizza. We want a couple of streets to stroll down, an avenue to jog along, a pool to swim in, and a cinema for a bit of entertainment. We want a functioning courthouse, a reassuring hospital, a consoling church, and an unintimidating cemetery We want a new university and an old theater house. We want soccer fields, and city councilors we can pester in the bar. We want to see the mountains beyond the grade crossing when the weather's good and the air is clear. We want footsteps on cobbled streets in the night, yellow lights to tinge the mist, and bell towers we can recognize from a distance. We want doctors and lawyers who can translate abstract concepts into our dialect— my father can— and people with a kind word and a smile for everyone.
• We Italians continue to argue over the fascism we had, the communism we nearly had, the terrorism we tasted, and the corruption we tolerated. Our digestive process is extremely slow, and induces chronic headaches.
• In millions of Italians, there exists— sorry, there resists— an astonishing acceptance of obscurity from authority of any kind, be it political, judicial, administrative, medical, or academic.
• But Italy is disconcerting even in its defects. Just as you are about to write the country off as shallow, it reveals unsuspected depths. And when you look into the depths, the surface becomes a mirror.
• In fact, school is a perfect thumbnail sketch of the way we are. It is an example of brilliant imperfection, with peaks of excellence and abysses of inefficiency.
• Ours is a bonsai nationalism born in school corridors like this one. It shuffles between the desks, steps shyly through the schoolbooks, slides through the identical class registers, and emerges in a party dressed up as an ordeal, the maturità. From then on, our patriotism survives on private means and memories.
�� Italians are a moral people, but our morality, like our law, has to be tailored to fit. We have an à la carte approach. Everyone selects what he or she wants, according to conscience and convenience. Religion is still fundamental, but the menu is long, and the dishes varied.
• Pleasures compensate for oppression, and help to bear it.
• Our sun is setting in installments. It's festive and flamboyant, but it's still a sunset. Many non-Italians are surprised that such a dazzling nation should seem so tired and cynical.
• Italy's good qualities are the inimitable product of centuries of history. Its failings are the annoying consequence of civic idleness. That's why you added that Italy is the kind of place that can have you fuming and then purring in the space of a hundred meters, or the course of ten minutes.
• You explained, and we agreed, that intelligence is overused to the point of exasperation in Italy. You don't just want to decide “what kind of red” a stoplight is. If it lasts a second or two longer than expected, people think it's out of order and go through it anyway.
August 6, 2022
Maybe out of his warm compassion, my Italian brother gave this book as a Christmas present to me, one of those being fascinated continuously and, at the same time, confused by Italians.
Italy is an unarguably attractive nation. Great foods, emotional and friendly people, scenic nature, and massive cultural legacies. Lured by its obvious attractiveness, foreigners, including me, often fantasizes about them and bear stereotypes.
The author gives you rich insights into the Italian mind and explains from where it comes. His argument might provide explanations of your perplexion or make you laugh when you see the Italian mind in your friends. For instance, he describes that Italians are generally suspicious of change but horrified by routine, and rely on their genius intuition and improvisation, often ending up losing against less talented nations, just because they are more disciplined and have boring foresight. Reminds you of something?
There are, of course, characteristics I don't appreciate, such as recurring improvisation (unless it is a jazz session by experienced musicians). However, it is also true that their generosity, intimacy, and foods are something you envy and make you (or me) keep visiting there and loving them.
Italy is an unarguably attractive nation. Great foods, emotional and friendly people, scenic nature, and massive cultural legacies. Lured by its obvious attractiveness, foreigners, including me, often fantasizes about them and bear stereotypes.
The author gives you rich insights into the Italian mind and explains from where it comes. His argument might provide explanations of your perplexion or make you laugh when you see the Italian mind in your friends. For instance, he describes that Italians are generally suspicious of change but horrified by routine, and rely on their genius intuition and improvisation, often ending up losing against less talented nations, just because they are more disciplined and have boring foresight. Reminds you of something?
There are, of course, characteristics I don't appreciate, such as recurring improvisation (unless it is a jazz session by experienced musicians). However, it is also true that their generosity, intimacy, and foods are something you envy and make you (or me) keep visiting there and loving them.
November 27, 2012
Definitely didn't think this book would turn out the way it did. Many times I found the author just blabbing and jabbering about things that were important to him, not so much the reader. I think the author had a hard time just getting the point across, and liked to drag it out. Often times the author would go off subject and just yap about something that had nothing to do with the book (in my opinion).
As people were saying, this is not a book that you want to read in order to "get the knowledge of Italy" under your belt before you travel. Honestly, I would say just go to TripAdvisor or read some of Rick Steve's novels.
I studied in Florence, Italy for 1 semester (and still here, actually) and I've learned more from just being here and talking to people. Reading a book like this puts a picture in your head and creates false expectations...
It was just a bad, boring book. But remember, this is MY opinion. This was also the first book that I couldn't (or didn't want to) finish because it was just so...plain.
As people were saying, this is not a book that you want to read in order to "get the knowledge of Italy" under your belt before you travel. Honestly, I would say just go to TripAdvisor or read some of Rick Steve's novels.
I studied in Florence, Italy for 1 semester (and still here, actually) and I've learned more from just being here and talking to people. Reading a book like this puts a picture in your head and creates false expectations...
It was just a bad, boring book. But remember, this is MY opinion. This was also the first book that I couldn't (or didn't want to) finish because it was just so...plain.
December 31, 2021
Moved to Italy a few months ago. Was hoping this book would help with the transition. Boy was I wrong. This is a slog that is near unreadable. It's basically his stream of consciousness that doesn't really tell you anything about Italian life. He name drops people, places, food and other Italian characteristics without explaining any of them. I was more entertained and learned more from my constant research on Wikipedia to explain what he is talking about. At least the book has encouraged me to go out and find a proper book about Italy.
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