Panorama. Echoes of a night that never ends
In times no less terrible, but plagued by other types of horrors, for those who lived on this side of the world Lampedusa it was the name of an Italian island, yes, but also that of a writer: Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa. As is often the case with some cultural milestones, you didn’t have to be a literature specialist to know that Lampedusa had written the gatopardo. Nor was it essential to have read that novel in order to have a vague idea of its theme (that thing about gatopardismo!). It was enough to have seen the film of the same name by Luchino Visconti: for years, Lampedusa was the name of the writer who, without knowing it, had given us one of the most memorable scenes in cinema: Burt Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale dancing a waltz in Italy in 1860.
But everything changes and, except for some passionate about the Mediterranean coasts to whom the small Italian island brings back memories of blue summers, for the vast majority of those of us who follow the news, today Lampedusa can only be associated with tragedy and death.
Except for some passionate about the Mediterranean coasts to whom the small Italian island brings back memories of blue summers, for the vast majority of those of us who follow the news, today Lampedusa can only be associated with tragedy and death.
And here it is. No literature, no echoes of old stories or glimpses of calm waters where you can swim peacefully: just a sea as dark as the night that covers it, the glow of rescue boats and the raised arms of the desperate.
The photo was taken this week, near an Italian coast that will continue to be beautiful, although it is increasingly difficult to imagine it as a paradise. There were 280 migrants rescued; 7, those who died. Figures that slip through a stream of events in which the continuous bloodletting that runs from Africa and Asia to Europe no longer seems to matter to anyone.
“If we want everything to continue as it is, everything needs to change”, said, unforgettable, one of the characters in the gatopardo. Even in that the world is another. Now no one needs anything to change for the awful thing to keep happening.