things come, things go

The disruption of change, the poignancy of thoughts of what were, and what may never be.

A quote from the first line of a book review seems appropriate here:

Sicily is the key to Italy, as Goethe once wrote, and one novel is the key to Sicily: “The Leopard,” Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s masterpiece. This tale of the decline and fall of the house of Salina, a family of Sicilian aristocrats, first appeared in 1958, but it reads more like the last 19th-century novel, a perfect evocation of a lost world.

Something I believed in, something I wanted to believe in, is undergoing a kind of change that will benefit so many people, and that will, as the saying goes, ‘make a more inclusive tent.’ And yes, to put a metric on it, it will make more money for a lot of people. Careers will bloom, reputations will be made.

And yet, I think of the book’s protagonist, looking out over the totally silent and searingly hot vineyards of his old Sicilian town, worrying if his way of life can ever be the same again. My own view is different here – it’s of container ships moving into ports, of San Francisco Bay and the sounds below my window are those of a working marina.

Lampedusa’s “The Leopard” is as fitting a commentary on the inevitability — and heart wrenching pain — of change. Should you ever wonder about whether the sights and sounds you have come to love will change, and how you will adopt and adapt, I can think of no better recommendation than to wander through this novel.

Ah– the review the quote above came from:


  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: