An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Old Calabria

 

Norman Douglas (whose praises I sang over his Siren Land) has done it again – or, rather, did it again. Since his follow-up book Old Calabria was published in 1915.

What Siren Land did for the Sorrentine peninsula, Old Calabria does for the lands to the south of Naples – and in spades. It is a joyous and witty ramble around the foot of Italy, packed with historical, geographical, philosophical, anthropological and downright arrogant observations on life there a century ago.

Here is just one of Douglas's useful tips: "The foreigner in Italy, if he is wise, will familiarise himself not only with the cathedrals to be visited but also, and primarily, with the technique of legal bribery and subterfuge – with the methods locally employed for escaping out of the meshes of the law. Otherwise he may find unpleasant surprises in store for him."

After my encounter with the border police in Brindisi (see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020), I would certainly endorse the enduring need for such preparedness. Although perhaps it is not necessary to go so far as one practice that Douglas observed. "In England," he says, "we should think it rather paradoxical to hear a respectable old farmer recommending his boys to shoot a policeman, whenever they safely can. On the spot [in Calabria], things begin to wear a different aspect..."

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Islands

 

Monte Circeo, island of Circe Photo©Nigel Summerley

I make no apology for mentioning again the wonderful book Siren Land – because among author Norman Douglas's countless pointed observations is one on the nature of islands... and the fact that they are not always necessarily islands.

His comments chime with my experience of the sublime shapeshifter Monte Circeo, today a headland in southern Italy but, in the far distant past, probably an island.

Or perhaps not. And does it matter?

Douglas says: "I cannot help thinking that commentators of the Homeric cosmography take the 'islands' too seriously, and thereby involve themselves in needless trouble. Ancient navigators were inordinately fond of islands, and slow sailing without a compass may well turn an indented coastline or promontory into a group of them. This is plain from Sindbad the Sailor...

"People living on continents are more likely to locate marvels in islands – India and America were also 'islands'; so was Paradise, according to Lambertus Floridus; to say nothing of Atlantis – and the ingenious Pelliccia has written a book to prove that the whole Sorrentine peninsula was likewise an island in olden days. 

"He argues thus: the Sirens dwelt at Capri; Circe, the enchantress, lived on another island near at hand; therefore Sorrento must have been the island of Circe – falsifying geography and geology in order to vindicate a prehistoric sailor's yarn. What strange creatures we are, placing more faith in deductions than in facts..."

My own encounter with Monte Circeo (recounted in this blog – in An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 11: 15-21 September 2020) pretty much convinced me that this – not the nearby island of Ponza, and certainly not the Sorrentine peninsula – was the island of Circe. Even though it is not geographically an island.

But look from a distance at the shimmering beauty of Circeo in the setting sun, or at its hazy presence beneath a stormy sky, and all you will see is an alluring island...

Monte Circeo, island of Circe                                                 Photo©Nigel Summerley

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Siren Land

Back in lockdown, back in winter, back in Brexitland... the only light seems to shine from maps and books that hold promises of another journey...

One such book is Siren Land by Norman Douglas, a most eloquent volume from 1911 focusing on the Bay of Naples, Capri and the Sorrentine peninsula, the area so closely connected with the myths of the Sirens, the exotic creatures who failed to waylay Odysseus.

Douglas is a sharp, erudite and waspish writer with a passion for – and tremendous knowledge of – this land which he made his home.

To hear his voice calling from over 100 years ago is enough to lure one back to the realm of the Sirens... and it encouraged me to look back on some more pictures from my 2020 odyssey...

Half-bird, half woman Siren from the National
Archaeological Museum, Athens Photo©Nigel Summerley

Half-fish, half-woman from Tinos, Greece
Photo©Nigel Summerley

Siren from Scilla, Italy Photo©Nigel Summerley

Siren from Napoli Centrale station, Naples, Italy Photo©Nigel Summerley

Sirens Hotel, Scilla, Italy Photo©Nigel Summerley