Pasquino

The Piazza Navona is a symmetrical, narrow piazza with a large central fountain, and two smaller ones flanking it at either end. The former, Bernini’s Fonatana dei Quattro Fiumi ('Fountain of the Four Rivers'), is currently undergoing renovation, so the grandeur of the place is at present, unfortunately, somewhat diminished. Which is a shame; the American poet Henry Wadsorth Longfellow, who once lived in an apartment overlooking the square, relished its refreshing vibe, and the usually cynical Tobias Smollett was forced to concede that it is “perhaps the most magnificent in Europe.” Some wrap, but I unfortunately couldn’t see it for all the scaffolding. Instead, I sat by the Fontana del Moro, a smaller work by Bernini, while a three-piece gypsy outfit busted a lazy afternoon groove.

(‘Pasquino’ the talking statue)

Around the corner stands the most famous of Rome’s so-called ‘talking statues’. That it depicts a scene from Homer’s Iliad is of only minor import. Its uniqueness stems from the fact that in 1501 a politically-minded cobbler (Pasquino) decided he’d had enough of papal Rome’s excessive censorship, and started attaching to the statue satirical remarks concerning current events. The trend caught on, and Romans from all over began attaching their own comments. Soon, other statues in Rome began to ‘talk’ and respond to each other. The practice has continued ever since, even during the brutal censorship of Mussolini’s reign. Even now, the statue is covered in bits of paper, with writings of both a political, and romantic nature.

(My new friend)

For something more contemporary, I thought I’d check out a restaurant nearby that I’ll probably take Liam to when he visits, knowing his passion for all things to do with both William Faulkner (a favourite writer of mine also) and Humphrey Bogart.

(Passetto, closed for siesta)

According to my invaluable ‘Literary Companion to Rome’ (from which nearly all literary allusions in this blog stem – see ‘reading list’) one of Faulkner’s biographies recounts how he dined at the then fashionable ‘Passetto’ restaurant with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in 1954, when in Rome on movie business. Bacall asked the recently crowned Nobel Laureate:

‘Bill, why do you drink?’ Liking the slim, green-eyed girl, he answered. ‘When I have one martini,’ he said, ‘I feel bigger, wiser, taller. When I have a second, I feel superlative. When I have more, there’s no holding me.’

Well, I know how he feels, but I’m trying to cut my drinking down a bit myself, and so am resisting the temptation make a role-model out of him… even in terms of prose style.

(On my way to the Ponte Sant'Angelo - see above)