few days ago I had the misfortune and displeasure to read a book called "We had a sky full of stars ... and a guiding star to mark the route, "a book of which I can only save the title. This book that looks like a mix of biography and ominous message of the Gospel, complete with a fierce critic of modern times, was made by a relative of mine. You may wonder what does all this with Christmas. Simply said: a few pages is devoted to the meaning of Christmas and the manger. The nativity scene that is staged every year in the house of my relatives is an amazing thing, something that to my child's eyes seemed almost of the Bethlehem 2000 years ago, nothing was missing from the fisherman, the laundry, going to the craftsmen and shepherds. Puddles of foil or perhaps even mirror shards, rocks, moss, the stars and finally the Holy Family with ox, ass and probably strategically placed and philological sense (I hope not political) right and left of the baby Jesus I watched this with a perfect crib or in place of the mouth. I looked at him and I could see what I had read the Gospel or who had written poems on those long Christmas we had to memorize in grade school. After 20 years, reading the book of my aunt, I realized that I was not really looking at the representation of the birth of Christ for kids, but the expression of the WORD and the saving BIRTH OF OUR LORD BORN TO SAVE OUR SOULS PAY THE ETERNAL FLAME. This vision has unsettled me, plus the fact that this relation is equivalent to that defined them as a compliment bigoted claims that Christmas should not be the manifestation of our superficiality of human beings, but instead should provide an opportunity to stay close to our relatives, confirming our love for them. This would be very fair if not in fact come from the pen (I dare not imagine a computer key, real instrument of damnation) of the same person who made a point to raise in many years just up the phone to wish my family or salute when you meet on the street, the same person as when I was younger it was on my grandparents' house on 25 morning with the air of a moral obligation rather than true affective interest. In his house there was a crib and there was the big tree Christmas but the only sound you heard was the Siamese cat's meow that claimed his kidney stew, not quite the happy laughter of children of 3 or more than that smile squeezed between the folds of the mouth. I'm sure that in that house, Christmas is observed every year but the spirit of Christmas is miles away from them.
In my house the other hand, Christmas is a word that expresses itself through a Christmas tree with balls placed at random and a crib that over the years has retained only the hut, baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the ox, the donkey and the Magi. The big box with all characters (donated to me and my sister my grandmother) has evaporated, and certainly ended up in a home where ever you may get the love that I put in my hands to take each character and put in place that seemed more just to be there without thinking about what they said the Holy Scriptures in this regard.
Christmas for me has always been a red candle burning on a table spread. Christmas Past, the good one, the one I saw already buzzing a month before the big day, to open the windows of the advent calendar and make me chocolate milk until the fateful 25. Christmas Chests Pandoro was put on the stove to dissolve the sugar, the glasses were di cristallo per lo spumante Gancia e i discorsi degli adulti che ci facevano sbadigliare ma che non riuscivano a spegnere del tutto quell’agitazione per le ore che ci dividevano dall’apertura dei regali. Erano giorni che si rincorrevano tra giochi di società, film di Natale e pomeriggi al cinema. Mi ricordo che tutto l’entusiasmo si spegneva con l’arrivo del 25 sera ma poi la giostra si riaccendeva in vista del Capodanno, un Capodanno ancora famigliare con mia sorella ancora lontana dalle feste in villetta con i compagni di scuola. Mi ricordo soprattutto l’ultimo Capodanno trascorso così, soprattutto perché l’anno successivo mia nonna è morta, mia sorella ha trascorso il 31 fuori casa e io ero ancora troppo piccola per poter pensare di festeggiarlo in un modo diverso che con i miei. Ma quell’ultimo capodanno c’eravamo ancora tutti e nelle foto mi guardo e penso a quanto fossi felice in quella felpa viola, che rido e ho una di quelle robe di capodanno che fanno scintille mentre bruciano. Tutto era molto semplice ma era anche perfettamente naturale, non ti dovevi sbattere per tenere viva la fiamma perché la fiamma era bella accesa e alta sopra la tua testa.
Per anni ho cercato di tenere vivo tutto ciò che era possibile: albero di Natale, cena della Vigilia, regali di Natale scelti con cura, film di Natale in tv, Jingle Bell Rock sull’mp3, giro per la città per vedere le decorazioni, mercatini di Natale in giro per l’Europa, eccetera eccetera..ma sapete che ho ottenuto? Frasi del tipo “l’albero di natale sta diventando una rottura perché non abbiamo più spazio”, “No mi dispiace il 24 sono a casa dei miei suoceri”, “Mi dici cosa vuoi per Natale perché non so cosa regalarti e non ho tempo per uscire”, “Non ho voglia di cucinare né di abbuffarmi”. E poi c’è l’immancabile sms di auguri di Natale da parte di quella che era ai tempi la mia zia prediletta, un asettico “Tanti auguri di Buon Natale a te e a tutta la famiglia”. La zia che mi ha fatto amare questa festa più di chiunque altro al mondo, quella che poi non ci ha messo molto to take the door and walk away when one forgets that perhaps did not have 14 years to understand why certain family dynamics.
For me it is difficult if not impossible to understand the motivations of the people on it would be enough only to Christmas when a bottle of wine, a cake and a smile to make this period more memorable. The bitter irony is that there are also those who by mere habit organize mega family meals and then spend all their time gossiping relatives missing, which makes me shudder more than the three of us veterans who had eaten there back in our rooms, at least not throw mud at anyone. It 's weird and ugly the fact of living in a reality that does not know the meaning of love and brotherhood, where all live in their areas more dangerous for those around him. For goodness sake I've never been the best of sociability, but I know the value of a gesture or a word and I never deprived the people I love everything that I could offer with the little I had and I have. They are more naive soul that simple, considering that I believe that there is always a good thing than what I have to see every day amid general indifference.
Christmas 2010. More and more like a cinepanettoni rather than a real party. Yes you know filmazzi that climate typical of those who speak only superficial stuff and use Christmas as an easy reference? Well, for me this Christmas. All sequins (few) and make-up unmade.
0 comments:
Post a Comment