Bryce & Damon in Europe

by Pertinax Carrus

Chapter 15, Tuscany, Part I

Bologna

            From the mainland opposite Venice, Bryce and Damon drove south, mostly on the A13, for a little less than a hundred miles to the city of Bologna.  They were not going to stay in Bologna, but merely to stop there for lunch.  As they lounged at a sidewalk table, Bryce quizzed his partner.

            “What do you think of when you see the name Bologna?”

            It was kind of a trick question, because the answer most people thought could not be true was in fact the truth.

            Damon hesitantly answered, “Well, it looks the same as the name of the lunchmeat in the grocery store.”

            “You’re right!” Bryce congratulated him.  “The particular type of sausage which is called bologna, and pronounced by most of us as “boloney,” originated here in this Italian city.  Some people pretend it is wrong to use the English pronunciation, just like they do when I say “Cologne” for the German city of Köln or “Par-is” for the French city pronounced “Pa-ree.”  But I disagree.  I think having an English version indicates a familiarity with the place, sort of like having a family name for it.  We’ve been to Milano, Torino, Padova, and Venezia, but if we use those names back home, no one would know what we’re talking about.  There’s nothing wrong with Milan, Turin, Padua, or Venice, and there won’t be anything wrong with Florence or Rome of Naples once we get there.”

            “Okay, okay!  Get off the soap box!  I wasn’t going to object,” Damon responded, “I was just testing the waters.”

            Bryce blushed.  “Sorry.  I guess I do get carried away sometimes.”

            “Sometimes?” Damon queried, but, grinning, and giving his partner the opportunity to show off again, he asked, “Anything except boloney significant about this place?”

            “Well, it does have one of the oldest universities in Europe,” Bryce gratefully responded.  “Since medieval universities sort of grew up gradually at first, rather than being founded, it’s kind of hard to say exactly when it began, and there’s a big rivalry between Paris and Bologna as to which is older, but it’s safe to say it’s among the oldest.  Bologna was especially noted for the study of law, and Roman law was revived here in the eleventh century by a teacher called Irnerius.  As I understand it, he adopted the method then in use for studying the Bible, that is, he would read out a passage from Justinian’s Corpus Juris Civilis and then comment on it, while the students wrote it down.  Remember, medieval books were very expensive, as every one was made by hand, and so all most students had to go on was their notes.  Seems to have worked for them.”

            Pleased at having given his partner this opportunity to indulge himself, Damon smiled.  Soon after, they packed up and departed Bologna.

Florence

            Leaving Bologna with Damon driving, they headed south, over the Apennine Mountains which sort of form the backbone of Italy.  As they crested a rise and looked down on the Tuscan countryside, Damon pulled to one side, they got out to look.  Before them lay a marvelous vista of tended fields, farm houses, and stone fences, making up one of the most civilized landscapes in the world.  Humans have been at work here for millennia, and it was obvious.  After snapping a few more pictures, with each posing the other before this landscape, they reentered their vehicle and made their way down into the valley of the Arno River, and the city of Florence, or Firenze when it’s at home.

            At Bryce’s urging, they had reservations at the Gran Hotel Cavour on the Via del Proconsolo, in the center of town.  The only drawback was that there was no parking.  The hotel is located in what is known as a “limited traffic area,” where they could park only for a short time while unloading.  Then the car had to be moved to a parking area outside the historic district.  For two nineteen year olds, this only added to the adventure.  They also found that, next to the facility where they parked, there was a green space where local boys engaged in soccer matches on what seemed like a continuous basis.  They checked on the car each day, and each day there was at least one match going on.

            The building in which the Hotel Cavour is located dates to 1280.  It offered all sorts of amenities, not least of which were the beautifully decorated rooms, both the public rooms and the individual ones.  There were painted vaulted ceilings in some of the public spaces which were truly impressive, dating to when the building was the palazzo of a noble Florentine family.  It housed both an excellent breakfast room and a restaurant.  To Bryce’s satisfaction, and Damon’s disgust, there was also a fitness center.  From the roof terrace there were marvelous views of the Florentine sights, including the cathedral and the Piazza della Signoria.  They got the car settled, then got themselves checked into a wonderful, spacious room with a large, comfortable looking bed.

            No sooner had they established themselves in their hotel than Bryce, who was obviously hyper about something, insisted that Damon accompany him right away to their first visit in Florence.  He led his partner to the Franciscan church of Santa Croce.  There he introduced Damon to the monuments to such luminaries as Dante, Michelangelo, Galileo, Machiavelli, Leon Battista Alberti, Leonardo Bruni, and, from a later period, Rossini, Marconi, and Fermi.  But that was not the purpose of the visit, however interesting in itself.  Bryce led Damon into what is called the first cloister, where they entered the Pazzi Chapel.

            “This,” Bryce declared, “is the most beautiful space ever created by humans.”

            The Pazzi Chapel is a relatively small room, commissioned in 1429 by Andrea Pazzi where members of his family would be entombed.  It was designed by Filippo Brunelleschi, who almost  single handedly created the Renaissance style of architecture, though probably actually constructed by others.  The design is one based on simple geometrical forms, especially the square and the circle.  Between pilasters are tall blank panels with rounded heads, above which are roundels with depictions of the apostles by Luca della Robbia.  Arches, dome, decorations are all in perfect harmony and balance, exhibiting the beauty of restraint.

            “There is a thirteenth century French manuscript which shows God creating the world using a compass, but God the Geometer is made visible in this chapel,” Bryce declared.  “No where is it more clearly announced that God is rational, balanced, serene.  This is my understanding of God.  Look around you!  Everything fits.  There are no jarring notes, nothing out of place.  It is almost a treatise on heaven.”

            “I can tell you are really turned on by this place, and I can see why.  It sort of make you calm down and enjoy just being here,” Damon said.

            “This is one of my very favorite places.  I have never been anywhere I like better.  This makes everything seem reasonable and peaceful,” Bryce agreed.

            They walked out of the cloister and found a sidewalk café, where they ordered glasses of wine and continued their conversation.

            “So, you think God is reasonable?” Damon invited Bryce to continue.

            “Yes, I do.  That’s where the fundamentalist types go wrong.  They abandon reason, but I believe, in line with some of the best thinkers of the Church, that reason is one of the greatest gifts of God to mankind.  Women, too, of course.  I’m using the word in the inclusive sense.  Beginning with St. Paul, and including Clement of Alexandria, Augustine of Hippo, Anselm of Canterbury, Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, Dante, Robert Bellarmine, and, closer to our own day, such thinkers as Étienne Gilson and Jacques Maritain, there is a strong Catholic tradition upholding the proposition that faith and reason are compatible, congruent, not antagonistic paths to truth.

            “I suppose I hold what you might call a providential view of history.  I don’t think things just happen, but there’s an overall plan to it all.  I believe God sent Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, to become human at a time when the Jews were especially conscious of the traditions  about the coming savior, or Messiah.  I believe he coordinated this, so it was also a time when the Roman Empire had established some degree of unity and peace across the Mediterranean world, so St. Paul and others could carry out their missionary activities more effectively.  I believe Alexander the Great was a planned precursor of Jesus, as it was his doing which spread the Greek language and learning all around, giving the apostles a common language in which to spread the Gospel.  All the early Christian writings are in Greek, the later Greek of the Hellenistic world.  And, along with all that, I believe that it was part of the divine plan that the logic, taught by Aristotle, Alexander’s tutor, be part of that international culture of the times, and with it the Greek emphasis on balance, proportion, restraint, and, yes, reason.  None of this was mere happenstance.  It all came together to give Christianity, the saving word of God, the opportunity to get established in the world,” Bryce concluded.

            “That almost sounds like everything is set, laid out in advance.  That’s not what I remember from some of your earlier sermons,” Damon challenged his partner.

            Bryce wrinkled his nose at the word “sermons.”  He preferred to think of his comments as “dialogues.”  That had a more classical resonance.  But he forbore making an issue of that in order to address the real issue at hand.

            “Well, I also believe very strongly in human free will, as you indicate.  Even if God arranges what we might call the big picture, that does not mean we are not free to interact with it in our own, free way.  I believe God’s plan for the universe will be carried out, regardless of what I do, but I also believe I have the freedom to cooperate with that plan or to reject it.  Another way of saying that is, God gives us all the grace to achieve eternal salvation, but we have to do our part, and cooperate with the graces, the opportunities given us for that to come about.  If I get to heaven, it will be because God gave me the opportunity, but if I go to hell, it will be because I failed to take advantage of the opportunities, the graces, God gives me.  It’s a cooperative effort, and both are required.  That’s the balance in reality.”

            “I guess I can see that.  I sure don’t like the idea that everything is determined by some forces completely outside our control, no matter whether those forces are some laws of physics or something, or what I’ve heard called divine providence,” Damon said.

            “I believe in divine providence, in the sense I mentioned before.  The broad sweep, the big picture, the eventual outcome is set by God, but as far as we humans are concerned, we are free in our daily actions to do whatever we want.  If what we want contributes to that divine plan, then it’s called virtue, and if it kicks against that plan, it’s called vice or sin.  But the choice is ours,” Bryce declared.

            “So, you’re saying we can be kind of partners or allies of God?” Damon asked for clarification.

            “Yes.  Exactly.  God gave us that ability.  He gave us free will, so we could choose to do the right thing or not, and he gave us both reason and revelation so we would know what the right thing is.  It’s all a beautifully balanced plan, just like the architecture of the Pazzi Chapel.  It’s all harmonious and rational, like God the Geometer.  And harmony, balance, and proportion are simply beautiful, like God is beautiful,” Bryce insisted.

            “So, are you saying you take the middle ground in everything, that you’re always balanced?” Damon skeptically asked.

            Bryce grinned at this, as he had many previous conversations with Damon in which he had been accused of being stubborn and hard-headed.  “I’m not saying anything goes.  I’m not saying there is no truth.  I’m not saying everything is relative, or everything is up for grabs.  That, in my opinion, is itself an extreme position.  Saying nothing is absolutely true is pretty much a denial that there is a God.  As St. Thomas said, all truth comes from God.  If nothing is absolutely true, then there is no God.  But, in order to cooperate with God, and to know what it is he wants of us, we have to use our reason as well as being open or receptive to revelation.  Those who claim that all they need is revelation, or the Bible, are fooling themselves.  Look at all the conflicting interpretations of the Bible, of revelation.  That’s abdicating our part in the partnership God designed for us.  I will neither wallow in the swamp of relativism nor in the arid and fruitless deserts of fundamentalism.  I will avoid extremes, as Aristotle advised.”

            “Kind of thought you’d say something like that,” Damon said, as they finished their wine and set off to explore.

            After they had made their way through the center of town and across the Ponte Vecchio over the Arno, Damon said, “We’re not just wandering, are we?”

            “Nope,” Bryce replied.

            “I hope you know where we’re going,” Damon admonished his partner.

            “Have I ever led you wrong?” Bryce answered, then, before Damon could answer, he amended his statement.  “Wait!  Don’t answer that.  Just trust me this time.  I know where we’re going.”

            Damon laughed quietly.

            They continued walking on the side of the Arno away from the center of town for some time, ascending one of the many hills which encircled the central city.  At last, they arrived at a point from which one could look down on the leading attractions of the city, with the cathedral, Giotto’s tower, the Signoria, and the Ponte Vecchio laid out like a map beneath them, with the Arno making its gentle way through the heart of Florence.  They snapped several pictures from this vantage point.

            Then, turning around, Bryce said, “We’re here.”

            “I know we’re here, Idiot.  We’re always ‘here.’  The question is, where is ‘here’?” Damon declared.

            “‘Here’ is where we’re dining this evening,” Bryce informed him.  “Il Ristorante I Tre Pini – The Three Pines.  Aren’t you hungry?”

            At that moment, Damon’s stomach grumbled.  They both laughed, and, arm in arm, made their way into the restaurant.  Bryce gave his name to the maître d’, who checked them off a list and led them to a table near a window.  The restaurant had an almost rustic atmosphere, with wooden tables and chairs and beamed ceilings.  The room was only sparsely populated, as the guys were still not accustomed to the late hours at which many Europeans had their evening meal, and were among the early arrivals.

            “We stopped here on my last trip to Florence,” Bryce informed Damon.  “Chip wasn’t with us, thank goodness, but Nan and I had a great time.  Later, there’s a guy with an accordion who comes around and plays, and sometimes people dance.  Not much room, as you see, but Nan had a great time dancing with a hot looking guy from across the room.  I think Dad was more than just a little peeved at her, but the rest of us enjoyed the evening.  This is something else I want to share with you.”

            Damon reached across the table and squeezed Bryce’s hand, “Thanks, Boyfriend.”

            A waiter materialized at their table at that very moment.  It might have been awkward, but he simply ignored the hand-holding, and asked whether they were ready to order.  Bryce asked for a few more minutes to study to menu.  With a grin, the waiter withdrew.  Then the guys got down to the business of selecting their dinners.  Damon again went for a lamb dish as his main course.  Before coming on this trip, he had never tried lamb, but found it very much to his liking.  Bryce went for a pork plate.  As they ate, they looked across the room at the happy diners, and out the windows at the lovely scenery.

            Then, about half way through their meal, the courses coming whenever they chose it seemed, certainly in no hurry, and about an hour into their stay, sure enough a man appeared with an accordion and began to play.  Some of his tunes must have been favorites, as some of the diners began to sing along.  Then, about on the third or fourth piece, two middle aged people arose from their table and began dancing in the aisles and at a small open space before the huge fireplace.  As it was summer, there was no fire, but it was obviously a working fireplace, stained with black streaks around the hearth.  They were joined by a young couple, about the same age as our adventurers.  A tune or two later, the first couple sat down and resume eating and sipping their wine, and an elderly couple arose to take their place.  And so it went.

            “I wonder whether he knows any of my dance pieces,” Damon said, tongue in cheek.

            “Don’t even think it,” Bryce admonished him.

            By the time they had finished their meal and enjoyed their wine, the room was crowded with customers, so they departed, leaving a generous tip, not just for the meal, but for the entertainment as well.  Outside in the small parking lot they could still hear the accordion.  Damon grabbed Bryce, and began to dance around the lot, not the street dance he did at home, but the simple dance others at the restaurant had been dancing all evening.  Maybe it was a waltz.  In any case, they waltzed their way back down the hillside, dancing long after they could no longer hear the accordion.  Several people stared at them as they passed, but they did not care.  One or two called to them.  They could not understand the words, but it sounded friendly.  After a while, laughing deeply, they ceased to dance, but they felt light and elated all the way back across the Arno and to their hotel.

            As they approached the hotel down the narrow Via del Proconsulo, laughing as they went, Damon halted before getting to the hotel entrance.  He leaned Bryce up against a wall and kissed him.  “Thank you for insisting on this trip.  I love it!”

            “I am so glad that you do.  I know I was kind of bossy in insisting on the trip, and on what we would see and do,” Bryce admitted.

            “Kind of?” Damon laughed, and kissed him again.

            Two young men passing shouted and made a kissing noise, then laughed raucously.   Embarrassed, the two travelers ducked into their hotel.

            They ascended to the roof top terrace, from which they had a marvelous view of the major attractions of the city lighted up at night.  They obtained glasses of wine, and sat on the terrace sipping and talking until they were ready for bed.

            The next morning Bryce insisted on making use of the fitness center, while Damon snuggled in bed for another hour.  After breakfast in the very well designed breakfast room of the hotel, they made their way to the Academy of Fine Arts (Accademia di Belle Arti), established in 1563 by the first Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo I dei Medici (1519-74), under the influence of Giorgio Vasari, the same art historian mentioned in connection with Leonardo back in France.  But here it was not Leonardo, but his somewhat younger contemporary, Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564), who was on display.  The Accademia is the location of the original of Michelangelo’s David, which first stood in the Piazza della Signoria, but which was moved here in 1873, in part, at least, to protect it from environmental factors causing deterioration.  A copy stands in the original location now.  David was created about the same time as Leonardo’s “Mona Lisa” and in the same city.  Whereas Leonardo was an illegitimate son of a minor functionary, Michelangelo came from a noble but impoverished family, claiming descent from the family of Countess Matilda of Tuscany, the great patron of Pope Gregory VII in his conflict with Henry IV of Germany which resulted in the famed meeting at Canossa in 1077.  He always thought of himself as a sculptor first, although, like almost all Renaissance artists, he worked in several media.  The David represents the Biblical King David, not victorious with the severed head of Goliath, as in the earlier works of Donatello or Verrocchio, but rather before the battle.  Like the Moses which the guys will view in Rome, it depicts great strength at rest.  He is intense and focused, yet calm.  David is mentally preparing for battle, not engaged in combat or celebrating afterwards.  This gives it a tension and an inner strength which has always appealed to audiences.  Vasari wrote that with the David Michelangelo “restored to life one who was dead.”

            As they entered the gallery of the Accademia, Damon sharply drew in his breath at the sight.  The statue is huge, seventeen feet tall, but that is by far the least significant fact about it.  “He’s beautiful!” Damon exclaimed, in agreement with thousands, perhaps millions, who have seen the work since it was first publically displayed in 1504.  David is an ideal young man, a Biblical theme interpreted in the Greek manner, combining intensity with balance and proportion.  His weight is borne on his left leg.  His large hand clasps a stone.  His sling is thrown over his right shoulder.  He looks intently ahead..  There can be no doubt that Michelangelo appreciated the male figure.  The two men walked around the statue, which was displayed so that this was possible, just as it was out in the piazza  Then Damon insisted on sitting to one side.

            “This is embarrassing,” he whispered to Bryce.  “I just got a hard-on looking at a statue.  That ass is something else.”

            Bryce giggled, and helped his partner conceal his condition until he had it under control.  They remained admiring David for well over a half-hour.  They could not help but comment on the damage to the right foot inflicted by a deranged man in 1991.  “There are people out there who hate the beautiful,” Bryce commented.  “I would not be at all surprised that the same small minds which insist on a world created in 4004 B.C. would also think this depiction of David to be in some way blasphemous, mostly because this David is nude.  But the God of the Pazzi Chapel glories in beauty, and I believe he approves of David just as he is.”

            “I sure don’t object,” Damon said.  “You noticed my reaction.”

            In addition to it’s centerpiece, the Accademia also displayed four of Michelangelo’s works intended for the tomb of Pope Julius II, sometimes called “prisoners” and sometimes “slaves.”  They appear to be unfinished, but at the same time illustrate powerful figures emerging from the stone in which they are encased.  In that, they share something with the earlier figure of David.  They are powerful.  However, in these later works Michelangelo is adapting to a changed world, a world after the sack of Rome in 1527, a world which no longer seemed so calm and rational.  He is not only the culmination of the Renaissance, but also the first great artist of the following period or style called Mannerism, which embodies that uncertainty and restlessness.

            After the David everything else in the Accademia seemed less important.

            From the Accademia, Bryce and Damon returned to Santa Croce, where they attended a Mass celebrated at 11:00.  Attached to the Franciscan convent was a Scuolo del Cuoio, or Leather School, approached through the church after Mass, where exquisite leather products were to be found.  They watched the craftsmen at work, and purchased a few small items, a key case for Damon and a wallet for Bryce.

pertinax.carrus@gmail.com