Decadent Culture - the Rome Connection

Readers, bear with me. There is a Rome connection.

Design of monocled figure,
from The Chap-Book (1894)

The picture at right is a representation of “decadent” culture. Decadent culture was always a minority culture, but it was important. It peaked in Europe and the United States in the 1880s and 1890s and again in the 1920s.

Oscar Wilde

Decadence is related to the word “decay,” and a culture of decadence emerges and flowers at those moments when nations are perceived to be in decay. In Europe, this sense of decay tracks the beginnings of the decline of European empires, or the perception that a given national economy is in decline (for example, the English economy in the late 19th century). In the United States, a sub-culture of decadence emerges when the idea grows that the great American “frontier” is closing, taking with it the frontier strengths and virtues of independence, individualism, and manliness. In both the European and the US situations, some people—those involved in the culture of decadence—

Gabrielle D'Annunzio, poet
flyer and Fascist, in an unusual pose

begin to think that their nations are populated by overcivilized weaklings. Not only do they hink that, but they ACT IT OUT, presenting themselves as examples of these overcivilized, overschooled, exhausted weaklings, as dudes and dandies caught up in their own personal version of erotic, immoral, pessimistic, bored decadence—and, oddly enough, enjoying it in a perverse sort of way. There were sub-cultures of decadence in most large US cities, each with their own ways of acting out and presenting decadence. The Boston decadents celebrated Oscar Wilde. And in Chicago there was a small circle of admirers of—hey, we’re getting to Italy here—the Italian poet Gabrielle D’Annunzio.

Which brings me to Rome. The connection is really quite straightforward. While the decadents were mainly concerned about decline and decay in their own societies, the MODEL for decline was ancient Rome. According to a well-known theory of decay and degeneration, “in Rome, at the Decline, we find precisely as at the present day, an unraveling of all moral bonds, ferocity in manners, unsparing egotism, sensualism and brutality; we find multitudes whose loathing of life impels them to suicide.”

The American decadents believed there was a very close relationship between the decline of the Roman Empire and the decline of the United States in the Gilded Age of the late-19th century: both were caused by a society that valued great wealth and the acquisition of things (economic man) over love, women, and making babies. “Taking history as a whole,” wrote one decadent, women seem never to have more than moderately appealed to the sense of the economic man. The monied magnate seldom ruins himself for love, and chivalry would have been as foreign to a Roman senator under Diocletian, as it would be now to a Lombard Street banker.” American architecture of the period, so the comparison went, was just as taudry, ostentatious, and overly adorned as the Roman architecture of the third century. Chicago’s lavish, sumptuously adorned White City fair of 1893 was as decadent as Caracalla’s over-elaborate baths.

You can read all about Roman decadence in Edgar Saltus’s Imperial Purple (1892). His motto was “I am, therefore I suffer.” Here’s how Saltus imagined a banquet in Augustan Rome: “…the guests lay, fanned by boys, whose curly hair they used for napkins. Under the supervision of a butler the courses were served on platters so large that they covered the tables; sows’ breasts with Lybian truffles; dormice baked in poppies and honey; peacock-tongues flavored with cinnamon; oysters stewed in garum—a sauce made of the intestines of fish—sea-wolves from the Baltic; sturgeons from Rhodes; fig-peckers from Samos; African snails; pale beans in pink lard; and a yellow pig cooked after the Trojan fashion, from which, when carved, hot sausages fell and live thrushes flew.” I can’t wait to try a fig-pecker.

With thanks for your indulgence, and thanks to David Weir’s Decadent Culture in the United States (2008).

Bill

Parking in Rome

While thinking of something to say about the soap opera "Parking in Rome," I was reminded of evenings spent some years ago in the Re di Roma area, sitting on the window ledge of our 2nd floor apartment, watching at dusk as frustrated drivers circled the block, then circled again, and again, hoping against hope that a space would open up.

Especially in the neighborhoods, where parking enforcement is weak or nonexistent, drivers are not particular about where they park.  If the regular spots are occupied, the crosswalk will do (see above left, with the car directly astride the white pedestrian-crossing lines), or the sidewalk (at right).  Another
technique, though one that undermines the value of owning a vehicle, is to never move the car. 

Some neighborhoods, like Piazza Bologna, have taken measures to prevent these transgressions, installing raised curbs guarded by sturdy posts at the four corners of intersections, and sometimes extending the sidewalks into the intersection to minimize the area available to rogue parkers.

In the near-burb of San Paolo, where these photos were taken, authorities met the parking crisis by converting a major vehicular underpass into a parking area (left).  All the vehicles in the photo, including those in the foreground and center/back, are parked.  Bill

Alberto Sordi: a Roman in Rome

If you're shopping for movie posters in Rome, three, as we recall, are ubiquitous: Anita Ekberg cavorting in the Trevi Fountain in La Dolce Vita (1960); Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck on a Vespa in Roman Holiday (1953); and Alberto Sordi putting spaghetti into his mouth in Un Americano a Roma (An American in Rome) [1954]. 

If you've never heard of Sordi, you're not alone, though if you expressed that ignorance to an Italian you'd be judged insane or demented.  Sordi's illustrious career as an actor spanned 61 years and included 148 roles.  Among his best-known films were The White Sheik (1952) and  I Vitelloni  (1953), both directed by Fellini, and Lo Scapolo  (The Bachelor) [1955] and Un Borghese Piccolo (An Average Little Man) 1977, whose title suggests one of his most common roles.  He also directed 18 films.

Sordi was Roman to the core--so much so, the story goes, that he was kicked out of Milan's dramatic arts academy for his thick Roman accent.  He was born in Rome, raised in the quartiere of Garbatella and by his schoolteacher mother and musician father, and when he died in Rome in February 2003, more than a million people came to the Basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano to pay their respects (these days, an equal number appear in that square only for free rock concerts), and some 250,000 came to the funeral (right).  (For more on Garbatella, see the first itinerary in our new book, Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler. More on the book at the end of this post.)

Garbatella remains proud of its native son.  On one of its curvy streets, you'll find evidence of that pride: a wall-size painting, featuring Sordi's portrait and an abbreviated--if still impressively long--filmography.

Remember the name--Alberto Sordi, also known as Albertone (big Albert)--especially when talking to an Italian, especially in Rome, and above all in Garbatella.
Bill

The wall painting at right is featured in the Garbatella itinerary of our new print AND eBook,  Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler.  Modern Rome features tours of the "garden" suburb of Garbatella; the 20th-century suburb of EUR, designed by the Fascists; the 21st-century music and art center of Flaminio, along with Mussolini's Foro Italico, also the site of the 1960 summer Olympics; and a stairways walk in Trastevere.

This 4-walk book is available in all print and eBook formats The eBook is $1.99 through amazon.com and all other eBook sellers.  See the various formats at smashwords.com. 

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler now is also available in print, at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, independent bookstores, and other retailers; retail price $5.99.

The White Vans of Rome

Rome is well known for its scooters.  But there's another vehicle that deserves attention.  One of our Roman friends--which one we can't recall--drew our attention to the unmarked, white vans that seem to be everywhere on the streets of the city.  They're long and bulky and surely a parking nightmare; not the natural choice for a commuter or a small family, and the working-class guys who in the states feel tough in their trucks would in Rome probably prefer the masculinity of a motorcycle or even a substantial scooter.  So the vans they're likely to be commercial vehicles, but without the markings that would identify and publicize the business.  And they're all over the place.   Bill



We shot this for the Scuola Elementare, a nice example of Fascist public architecture.  The white van was a bonus.



RST Top 40. NUMBER ONE! The Gianicolo at Night

No. 1 – the Gianicolo at night. No contest. Even he and she agree.

The Gianicolo is a lovely hill overlooking Rome from the Trastevere side of the Tiber. It’s easy to get to, even if it does involve a bit of uphill walking. And at night, it’s simply magical. Whether you’re in Rome the first, the second, or the hundredth time, you have to go there. We never miss a chance to soak up the views and the atmosphere (from Punch & Judy shows in the daytime to lovers at night).

In fact #19, the Acqua Paola fountain, is on the way to the Gianicolo, and also looks great at night and has great views of the city.  See our earlier post on the fountain.

Our stairways itinerary in Trastevere, the fourth in our new book, Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler, includes part of the Gianicolo and Acqua Paola.  See the end of the PS to this post for more on the book.

Dianne

A PS on the Top 40 as we close it. Re the “he and she agree”: “Dianne says” and “Bill says” appear in our book, because we don’t always have the same take on Rome. (In an early manuscript of our book, we used simply “he says” and “she says”, which we both still like, but we bent to the will of an editor and changed to Dianne and Bill). And since we don’t have the same take, we made lists of our top Rome the Second Time sights. Then we collated and voted, made a few compromises (she says), and came up with our Top 40. As I noted, we both put the Gianicolo at night as #1 on our respective lists. Didn’t we, Bill? - she asks.

Yes, dear.  Bill

Dianne and Bill managed to cooperate enough to put out vol. 2 of the Curious Traveler series:  our new print AND eBook,  Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler.  Modern Rome features tours of the "garden" suburb of Garbatella; the 20th-century suburb of EUR, designed by the Fascists; the 21st-century music and art center of Flaminio, along with Mussolini's Foro Italico, also the site of the 1960 summer Olympics; and a stairways walk in Trastevere.

This 4-walk book is available in all print and eBook formats The eBook is $1.99 through amazon.com and all other eBook sellers.  See the various formats at smashwords.com. 

Modern Rome: 4 Great Walks for the Curious Traveler now is also available in print, at amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, independent bookstores, and other retailers; retail price $5.99.