 | ||
| photo credit: Alessandro Niccoletti The funnel cloud as seen from Fondamente Nove |
The morning had alternated between clouds, a little soft rain, and sun--nothing unusual--and when a storm suddenly kicked up, with high winds and hard rain that sent the kids rushing from the soccer field of Sant' Elena in search of shelter, that wasn't all that unusual either. I'd just finished reading a passage of Jan Morris' Venice in which she remarks upon the abrupt unexpected way that storms can arise in the lagoon (and the hazards this poses to the casual boater).
In fact, by the time we'd finally succeeded in getting all of them secured it was all over. But, as you can see, not without leaving behind a good deal of damage. (I've also heard it touched down and caused damage on Sant' Erasmo, but have no details.)
I've been told that the beautiful pini marittimi in the park of Sant' Elena, when seen from a bird-eye's view, form il nodo di Savoia--or the Knot of the House of Savoy: a looping symbol of the ruling family at the time this park (and almost all of what we now know as the island of Sant' Elena) was constructed in the 1920s.
That knot, alas, has been left rather ragged today.
 |
| While looking at the above I overheard an American ask a carabinieri" "What happened?" With infinite patience, the carabinieri answered, "Wind." I would have said, "Gophers"--and probably been believed. |
 |
| What now appears to be a superfluous over-sized 5th wall was until very recently this building's roof |
 |
| It's sad to lose so many beautiful trees, but this is a reminder that it could have been--and, sadly, has been--much worse |
I would have been terrified to see that funnel cloud coming toward Venice! Excellent reporting, thank you.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you and your family are safe. It is very sad about all of those beautiful trees though.
It's certainly not the kind of thing one likes to see on the horizon--I suppose we were lucky not to have any idea of what was heading our way.
DeleteIt's gotten stormy here now--again--but this morning when the sun was out there was the constant sound of a chainsaw cutting up all the uprooted trees.
How quickly that storm came and did its damage! Thank goodness no one was injured. But, still, what a shame to lose those beautiful trees, that end of Sant' Elena will look so different now.
ReplyDeleteThank you for so quickly showing us this, S.
Yvonne
I haven't followed the news closely, but last night I saw as I skimmed an article in the Gazettino that one person had been hospitalized with injuries suffered from falling/flying objects. And it also seems that ALL of the boats of the Remiera de Casteo (not far from the stadium) were damaged. I believe they're stored outside and the tornado had its way with them.
DeleteAnd thanks Susie L for your compliment and you're welcome to Yvonne for your thanks.
As I type this the sky has darkened some 4 hours earlier than it should for nightfall, and there's thunder, high winds--but I trust no funnel cloud. Or earthquake--which we also had yesterday.
There will now be fewer trees for all of those undesirable "elements" to use as cover in that very dangerous neighborhood of yours. ;)
ReplyDeleteYou make an excellent point, Susie. Perhaps our neighborhood's horrendous crime rate will go down a bit now that some of those hiding places are gone. Though I still wouldn't recommend any tourists risk coming here!
DeleteActually, speaking of criminal activity, I saw a headline on the local paper a few weeks back that 2 fake ATMs had been set up near Piazza San Marco--the sort of false front scam I'd read warnings about in Palermo.
I'll make sure to publicise that on the travel forums, and scare away the tourists from the San Marco area. We could also let some gophers lose in the Piazza, perhaps.
DeleteIt sure would make visiting the Piazza more pleasant if such news would scare off just a fraction of the huge crowds, but I don't think it will work. Not even those destructive giant gophers could keep folks away from there.
DeleteOh, could you please tell me what are your impressions of Jan Morris' "Venice"? Mine has changed after I've reread it a week ago (the first time I read it in 1996).
ReplyDeleteI need to go back to it again, also, but I generally thought it was an entertaining and informative account of a Venice whose population and mode of life was extremely different from that of today. 50 years after it was written, it's no criticism to say it is "dated," but it still seemed more accurate about the city than the recent book by Peter Ackroyd (Venice: Pure City) which is filled with bizarre inaccuracies and unfounded assertions. I must admit though, that at a certain point in my reading I thought Morris's writing almost became self-parody. That is, as Morris herself admits in a recent preface to a new edition (in which she refers to her own "purple prose"), the writing goes from "enthusiastic" and "lively" to almost absurdly & comically overwrought: as in, why use just one adjective when it one could use three? Drunk with the pleasure of her own prose, there are passages which verge on the delirious and for me at least her credibility suffers in them, and she loses touch with what she's actually portraying.
DeleteWhat did you think?
Couple days ago I've posted this review at the Amazon:
ReplyDeleteThe first time I read this book was after my first visit to Venice, sixteen years ago. I was fascinated by the virtuosity of the text but when the book was nearing it's end I've realized that the feeling I get now and then is not of elation but of a mild irritation. The tone the author chose is perfectly suitable for an essay, but at the longer run was beginning to feel a bit one note and repetitive, Morris hops from one theme to another looking to me less a virtuoso and more off an eccentric and even - forgive me that blashemphy - a scatterbrain.
But in 1996 I just thought that the reason for that exhaustion lies in my lack of true interest in Venice, it's not potent enough to carry me happily from the first page to the last.
Since then I've read Norwich, Ackroyd, Tiziano Scarpa, Frederic Lane, Christopher Hibbert and others, last of all a very compilative and uninspired book of Paul Strathern, after which I've decided to revisit the work that had started me on this trip of learning - hopefully, as an antidote to Strathern.
Finished rereading it couple days ago and have to admit I was getting irritated after first two thirds of the Morris' book - just like before. Author's relentless showing off, all these lists of different lions, all the chattering, hopping, making noises, not giving up on all this when you are already in the third hundred of pages made me realize my first impression was probably right, and it's not my faltering interest that I have to blame for failing to appreciate the style and substance of the classic.
I've read the Ackroyd's book, there is a lengthy and detailed review in my LiveJournal - but it's in Russian. Ackroyd is so omnivorous, he has almost become a hack.
But still it's more solid than one of the most recent popular books about Venice - Paul Strathern's The Spirit Of Venice. He writes at the end: My visits to Venice, Padua, Vienna, Paris, Crete and Istanbul over the years have all led me into contact into contact with who have contributed to this work. Ouch...Such books are written after reading 8-10 most popular books on the subject, it's a compilation, a digest. There are 3-4 works in Italian in the bibliography but it's evident the author doesn't read the language. And his attempts at the elevated style are laughable - at least 5 times he uses the phrase to add the insult to injury, maybe one time less - cavalier attitude. I will review it at Amazon - at length.
Oops, it reads like this - My visits to Venice, Padua, Vienna, Paris, Crete and Istanbul over the years have all led me into contact with countless sources who have contributed to this work.
DeleteOkay, so it seems we both got worn down by Morris's prose in her book VENICE. I don't mean to offend anyone, but the overwrought quality that both you and I got tired of sometimes seems to me peculiarly English. For example, I've gotten the same feeling while reading a fairly recent Rushdie novel--and I won't even mention those many English journalists whose maniacal prose can seem like the unfortunate effect of a pestilence: its victims feverish, delirious; their prose deformed.
DeleteOf course you can also find it in American writers & journalists, but the laconic tradition that haunts American letters (eg Hemingway) limits the breadth of the outbreaks somewhat.
Ultimately, I think it's what writers feel they must resort to to get noticed, to keep the attention of readers, to make a name for themselves--especially these days. Perhaps they're right, but at least for some of us readers, it's a real trial to get through.
It seems the feminine part was taking over, Jan emerging from James. Chattering is for ladies and laconic are the men preoccupied with their masculinity - like Hemingway. Excessive eloquence often verges on pathetic but hyper-masculine posing is also betraying. For me the the prose of Pushkin is unsurpassed in clarity. I haven't read anything as timeless, humane and...resigned as his "Captain's Daughter".
DeleteDo you have aspiration to write a book about Venice and hope it could become the best, the book?
I'm not going to say a thing about either chattering ladies or chattering men--that way lies trouble and a host of gendered verbs and adjectives. I guess women supposedly "chatter", while men are supposed to "pontificate."
DeleteI will have to find that Pushkin piece you refer to--though it will be in English, which I know won't be the same thing as the original Russian.
As for my aspirations about writing a book about Venice I'll retreat into Hemingway-esque laconicism and say, "Perhaps." I don't concern myself at all with any notions of "the best," as that's ultimately subjective anyway. I'd be upset with myself if I didn't feel that I was writing the best that I could possibly write at the time I was writing--that's all I can hope for. But "the best" in an absolute sense I leave for writers like Shakespeare and Proust, James and Faulkner--and Pushkin.
No, of course it's no use to tackle the titans. But besting Ackroyd and perhaps even Morris seems like something within the grasp. Anyway, it's worth trying.
ReplyDeleteAs for the Pushkin's Captain's Daughter if you can spare ten minutes here's my introduction (see the first review at the page):
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0394707141/ref=s9_simh_gw_p14_d2_i2?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0AA22C80MCDMVFQ48EN1&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1389517282&pf_rd_i=507846
Okay, thanks to your provocative introduction I'll have to find a copy now!
Delete