Monthly Archives: November 2020

Saint Rosalia and the Plague

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“He who has not visited Sicily does not know Italy” said the great German, poet, naturalist, novelist, dramatist and general universal man, Goethe.

Following his advice, just after Christmas of 2011 we took a flight from Pisa to Palermo on the three-cornered Island. We’d previously visited Sicily on separate occasions but never together. Sandra had been to Erice as interpreter for a professional visit. I had first seen Sicily in the early sixties when my Uncle was university lecturer in French literature at the University of Catania. It was an invitation from the guardian of Vicopisano fortress, Giovanni Ranieri Fascetti, to visit his friends’ family in Syracuse for the New Year that prompted us to revisit the island .

We hired a car from Palermo airport and had a breakfast by the beautiful seacoast known as the ‘Conca Doro’ (the golden bay) before deciding to follow the road up Monte Pellegrino to the sanctuary of the city’s patroness, Santa Rosalia.

She was a twelfth century woman, born in an aristocratic family who, forsaking marriage and a courtly life, decided to become a hermit and spent the rest of her life as an anchorite in a cave on the hill which dominates Palermo to the west.

In the seventeenth century Rosalia’s remains were rediscovered and paraded through the city’s streets during a pandemic. Miraculously her presence wiped away the plague that was decimating the population. From that moment on Saint Rosalia’s shrine has become a popular place of pilgrimage attracting people from all over the world.

Among these was the great Goethe himself who, on setting eyes on the sweet effigy of the Saint in the grotto over which the sanctuary has been built, wrote in a letter home:

By the light of some dull lamps I caught sight of a lovely female form. She lay seemingly in a state of ecstasy—the eyes half-closed, the head leaning carelessly on her right hand, which was adorned with many rings. I could not sufficiently discern her face, but it seemed to be peculiarly charming. Her robe was made of gilded metal, which imitated excellently a texture wrought with gold. The head and hands were of white marble. I cannot say that the whole was in the lofty style, still it was executed so naturally and so pleasingly that one almost fancied it must breathe and move. A little angel stands near her, and with a bunch of lilies in his hand appears to be fanning her.

I don’t think I could have put this description any better – especially as it came from Goethe!

We left the shrine and began our descent down Monte Pellegrino. The wondrous city of Palermo lay spread out before us, its treasures waiting for our discovery of them.

 

 

 

Prehistoric Mists

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We are really looking forwards to a spot of sunshine. For almost a week now our valley has been immersed in thick mist from which the silhouettes of spectral hills occasionally appear.

 

It’s a bit reminiscent of those pictures one sees of the Colombian rainforest or of the plateau of Roraima, Conan Doyle’s lost world. Will dinosaurs perhaps peer through the vaporous horizon?

Will pterodactyls beat their huge bat-like wings above our heads

or sabre-toothed predators enter our bedroom?

The valley is truly atmospherically locked down here in the Lucchesia. Friends have told us of a similar situation in their part of the area. Indeed much of Italy appears submerged under a vast cloud.  Anyway, let’s look towards the end of this week when things should brighten up a bit… I bet there will be a splurge of woodland mushrooms everywhere! There might even be a rainbow bringing promise to our skies like there was last week over our village…

Villa Vrindavana

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Italy has sometimes been described as a halfway station between northern Europe and the Indian subcontinent. Certainly, geographically both India and Italy have certain broad features in common. They are both peninsulas. They have large mountain ranges defining their northern borders. A long river runs through an extensive alluvial plain below these mountains. A considerable island lies below their feet and both areas have an extensive range of hills going from North to south. Of course, this is a very superficial comparison. Although both the Alps and the Himalayas were formed around the same epoch, the Western ghats and certainly the Deccan plateau are much older rocks geologically than the Apennines.

More constructive is to compare the main religious culture of the two nations. Roman Catholicism with its multiplicity of saints worshipped in their special shrines and, especially, with its religious processions compares favourably with the pantheon of Hindu gods and particularly with the great festivities of Ratha Yatra, or the chariot festival when the temple divinities are taken out of their sacred abode and paraded through the streets on chariots or palanquins. The purpose of the procession is two-fold: to enable excluded persons to view the deity and to bless the area around the religious centre.

Ratha Yatra refers especially to the annual festival at the temple of Jagannath in Puri, Orissa (Odisha) state, India. Here a public procession with deities Jagannath (an avatar of Vishnu the preserver), Balabhadra (his brother), Subhadra (his sister) and Sudarshana Chakra (his weapon) carried on giant chariots (ratha) are hauled by hundreds of devotees through the town’s streets. Indeed the chariots are so massive that the name Jagannath has been transmuted by western culture to mean any large HGV!

Jagannath (right), Balabhadra (left), Subhadra (centre)

I have visited Puri but as a non-Hindu was only able to view the temple from the terrace of a nearby public library. I hope, therefore, as an ‘excluded ‘ one to participate one day in the procession.

 

Pulling the chariot is also seen as a metaphor for pulling the God-head into oneself. Indeed there are occasions when worshippers have thrown themselves under the wheels of the chariot and immolated themselves by being crushed. There was a recent incident of this happening reported in the Times of India. It was unfortunately an accident: a chariot-hauler, pulling just behind a wheel slipped, lost his footing, fell down and, in the absence of any brakes on the vehicle, met his maker.

The beach at Puri was fabulous. We rented a house near the sea for a whole month. This was my travel companion on that occasion. I wonder where she is now and what the beach looks like now?

 

Trudi on Puri beach

Today one does not have to venture to India to witness a chariot festival. Thanks to the Indian diaspora and, especially, to Shrila Prabhupada, the founder of ISKON, the International Society for Krishna Consciousness who, with just a few books, a bag of cereals and eight dollars, landed in New York in 1965. Within a decade Shrila achieved a widespread following including the likes of George Harrison and, moreover, gathered a great respect among scholars for his exemplary translations of the Puranas and other ancient Sanskrit texts.

Abhay Charanaravinda Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupad

Krishna, Vishnu’s eighth avatar or earthly manifestation, is at the centre of Viareggio’s summer celebration of the Ratha Yatra.

We have enjoyed participating in it on several occasions and have loved the way the festive oriental procession melds in with the Italian religious culture right down to the fine Maremman oxen which pull the chariot.

The oxen, raised on a farm which is part of the Villa Vrindavana, have won several prizes at agricultural shows and it’s lovely to see these animals, once an essential part of Italian country life, back at work again.

Villa Vrindavana, a few kilometres south of Florence in the locality of San Casciano, is a beautiful sixteenth century villa saved from utter neglect by the Hare Krishna community in 1976.

We have been frequent visitors there in the past, especially in the 1980’s when their spiritual leader came across from America. These were truly large gatherings with talks, spiritual exercises and delicious Prasad all held in a giant tent.

That tent has today become a hay store and such heady counter culture activities have quietened down a bit. Instead, there are on offer several interesting courses and sessions on meditation, yoga, herbal medicine and the study of the great Hindu texts. More details can be had on Villa Vrindavana’s web site.

The name Vrindavana comes, of course, from the great religious centre south of Delhi, associated with the childhood of Lord Krishna. Here ISKON have started building the tallest Hindu temple ever, a veritable skyscraper…I prefer to reach for the skies in more modest ways. In particular, in delving through and restoration of my old photos I have come across these of a village religious gathering in Himachal Pradesh I attended in the 1970’s. Instead of being transported on giant chariots or housed within lofty shikaras the God is carried on a palanquin where he (or she) is consulted on important subjects like when will it rain again.

With regard to important subjects I just wish I could have such firm answers regarding who the next POTUS will be….

One thing is sure: Krishna and Christ have more than their similar sound in common: they are both sons of God as they were divinely conceived. Their coming on Earth were both foretold in the relative scriptures. They were both born in humble places, one in a prison cell, the other in a stable. Christ is seen as a shepherd, Krishna as a cowherd. And….most importantly both emphasised love for one another and peace in the world.

(San Cassiano’s big triennial Holy Cross religious procession in 2017)