“Not only in consideration of his deep learning and critical research, but above all as a tribute to the creative energy, freshness of style, and lyrical force which characterize his poetic masterpieces”
Giosué Carducci was a man of his time, very much a part of his historic context. He was born in the northwest corner of Tuscany on July 27, 1835, at that time there was no such entity as Italy. What is now Lombardy, Veneto, and the rest of the northwest corner of the boot was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire under the rule of the Hapsburgs. The rest was divided between seven different kingdoms; the most powerful, the Papal States, controlled Rome and a large chunk right in the middle of the peninsula. Carducci’s father was an itinerate physician and an avid patriot. Forced by economic circumstances to move about the country, he longed for the glory which was the Roman Empire. Doctor Carducci was so outspoken in his contempt for the divided country he was viewed as a crank and was tossed about on the waves of change sweeping the country. Finally tossed ashore in Florence he sent his hereto home-schooled son, just turned 14, to a Church run school. The father must have been an excellent teacher for the son blossomed, passing all of his examinations with flying colors in record time. A brilliant student, who often found university professors mediocre and pedantic; he immersed himself in Italian literature and began writing poetry. In 1855 he qualified for his doctoral degree. For a short time he taught in a secondary school during which time he published Rhymes a book of 25 sonnets, two ballads, and a eulogy for Italian patriots. It was this work that earned him in 1860 an appointment as professor of rhetoric at the very prestigious Bologna University where he remained until retirement in 1904. During all of this time his outspoken political views kept him in constant trouble. From 1859 to 1879 his writings were closely linked to the causes of the republican, anti-clerical patriots. He was a Latin and Greek scholar and viewed his country through the lens of the glory which was ancient Rome. In his eyes the corruptor of his time, and surely the inhibitor of unity and liberty, was the Roman Catholic Church. The pontiff at the time, Pius IX, sought to solidify his power when in 1864 he issued the encyclical Quanta Cura which censured nationalism, naturalism, socialism, freemasonry, and claimed the church’s complete control of education, culture and science. In addition Syllabus errorum denounced freedom of conscience and worship and declared the Church’s completely independent of state control. It was under this same pope the Vatican Council proclaimed the doctrine of papal infallibility. Carducci became a Freemason and devout anti-cleric. Indeed, so far did he go in this direction that some of the commentators I read called him a pagan and Satanist. There is no doubt he flaunted his contempt for the Roman Church. For many he stepped over the line with is poem Hymn to Satan. This long poem is a product of his youth described by some as a toast rather than a hymn. There is no doubt it is in the face of the Roman Church. In the presentation address for the 1906 Nobel Prize the secretary of the Swedish Academy said, “In fact, Carducci’s Satan has an ill-chosen name. The poet clearly means to imply a Lucifer in the literal sense of the word- the carrier of light, the herald of free thought and culture, and the enemy of that ascetic discipline which rejects or disparages natural rights.” The poem is far too long to include in this essay. The last two stanzas give the reader an idea.
All hail to thee, Satan!
Rebellion, all hail
Hail, power of reason,
Avenge and prevail!
To thee arise incense
And holy vows paid,
Thou, Satan, hast vanquished
The god by priests made.
This was a man who was willing to speak out for right of every person to freedom of thought and conscious. He was in love with the ancient image of his homeland and adverse to any who would hinder its glory. What he wrote and did glorifies the human state and the dignity of man, I see him as a humanist rather than a pagan or Satanists. Of course, many in our time make no distinction between the three; I am sure this would make Giosué Carducci sad.
He lived to see his beloved country united. And he lived to see his work honored by the Nobel committee, but only just. In 1906 age and infirmity prevented his going to Sweden to receive the prize, a few months later he died. The more I read of the man the more I liked him. The more of his poetry I read the more I felt like an uneducated oaf. The man is a classicist who makes constant reference to Roman and Greek history and mythology. I am sure if I had the time and the inclination to spend hours over each poem delving into references book several times with each stanza I would have a greater appreciation for Carducci’s work. I don’t and am not so inclined. I appreciated that which I understood. I particularly enjoyed The Ox and I offer three stanzas from Love’s Canticle.
Through crops that deck the plains with tender green,
Through vines that sloping terraces o’erclimb,
Through lakes and distant rivers’ silvery sheen,
Through woods that clothe the snowy peaks sublime;
Through cottage smoke gay curling in the sun,
Through clattering wheels of mills that full and grind,
Arise a thousand hymns in unison,
A thousand voices in one prayer combined:
“Hail, weary peoples of the human race!
Too much we suffer and too much we hate.
Nothing can die, though all things change apace:
Love! Fair is earth and holy future fate.”
Oh boy, Oh boy, Rudyard Kipling, a writer which I have know since I can remember. I was in elementary school when I first read his poem Boots. It stuck with me and although I know almost everything about Kipling is related to India, I have always associated him with South Africa. So I will get out the Biltong and Rooibos and settle in for great adventure. Kipling is the poet of the empire so it will be Edward Elgar on the CD player.
