See Naples and Live – 22: Underground Religion

San Gennaro Catacombs ©Nigel Summerley

I've already touched on some of the history of the unfortunate San Gennaro [see this blog 26 December 2021, See Naples and Live – 20: Bones and Blood] who had his head removed by the Romans in Pozzuoli near Naples in the 4th century because he was a fervent Christian.

His body and his head – and allegedly his blood – all travelled around quite a bit. But in the 5th century most of his remains were brought to Naples and buried in the catacombs that today still bear his name.

Four centuries later those remains were stolen and removed to the town of Benevento which also had a claim on the poor man.

In 1497 the saint's bones were finally returned to Naples – where some of them can still be seen in the Cathedral.

But more atmospheric by far are those Catacombs of San Gennaro – in the Sanita district – where not only he but many of the early Christians were entombed while they waited for their expected resurrection.

The Catacombs are a long way out from the centre of the city and not brilliantly signposted – in fact, not really signposted at all. But don't be put off. The locals are used to confused visitors wandering about and they happily dispense directions, often without being asked. Sometimes they just smile and point...

The remains of Gennaro are no longer here, of course, but you can see the tomb where he was once laid – and the many niches in which his fellow Christians were sealed up – and marvel at this underground cemetery whose structure also served as an atmospheric church.

Some of the intensity of the lives of these followers of Jesus can be picked up from exploring this subterranean sepulchre – but it is nothing to the eerie nature of the Catacombs of San Gaudioso, also in Sanita and also to be featured shortly in this blog.

San Gennaro Catacombs ©Nigel Summerley

See Naples and Live – 21: Breasts or Testicles?

©Nigel Summerley

While I was reading a century-old book relating the story of the Hittite empire, a reference to "Artemis of the Many Breasts" reminded me of one of the most curious sights in Naples' National Archaeological Museum – pictured above.

My first thought on seeing her was certainly that this was a goddess with a profusion of breasts. But when I read the accompanying notice, I was informed that these were in fact bulls' testicles and thus symbols of fertility.

Either way, this was a pretty weird image. But I was sold on the testicles, and stuck to that explanation when showing this photograph to other people.

However, now it doesn't seem to be quite so clear-cut. The breasts explanation held sway for a very long time in the past – so much so that one statue of the goddess had multiple jets of milk-like liquid spurting from every protuberance (not dissimilar to the Naples fountain depicting Parthenope – see this blog 23 November, See Naples and Live – 14: Sirens, Sirens Everywhere...).

One argument for the testicles, though, is that if these were the goddess's breasts, surely they would be coloured dark, to match her face and hands? Their distinctly different colouring suggests that they are indeed testicles detached from their bovine owners to be made into fashion accessories with a religious significance.

Whatever the truth, this stunning statue remains just one of myriad reasons to visit a museum overflowing with marvels.

See Naples and Live – 20: Bones and Blood

Bones of San Gennaro

The Christian martyr and patron saint of Naples – San Gennaro, or St Januarius – lost his head when the Romans executed him in nearby Pozzuoli around 305AD. But his remains have refused to die...

They were preserved for 500 years in Neapolitan catacombs (of which more in another post soon) until the body was purloined by the nearby rival city of Benevento.

The head, however, stayed behind in Naples and the body was finally returned there to join it in the 15th century. The remains of both are reckoned to be housed in the city's Cathedral  – along with phials of the saint's blood, collected by a devotee when the original decapitation took place.

The bones are – rather indecorously – displayed in a bin in the Cathedral crypt, while the skull is said to be contained in a bust of the saint, in a chapel off the main part of the church.

But it's the blood of San Gennaro that is the big deal...

On assorted holy days, the blood is brought closer to the remains of the head and the solid dark mass turns into liquid red blood. It pretty much happens without fail... and reassures the faithful of Naples that their saint is still with them and still capable of bringing about miracles.

I hesitate to be cynical about this – especially as I've just read The Mystery of Naples, a 1909 book by Edward P Graham devoted to debunking all the non-miraculous explanations for the liquefaction that have been forward by the many doubters. 

But methinks he may protest too much...

Bust of San Gennaro

See Naples and Live – 19: Brave Art

If you look at the picture below, you'll get some idea of the scale of the picture above – ie huge.

Street art like this is another of the factors that makes Naples a constantly surprising city. This gorgeous example featuring a couple embracing is actually painted on the back of a lift that can take you down from the top of the Sanita bridge into the heart of this most Neapolitan part of Naples.

The large wall (above) covered in a mysterious (to me anyway) painting is also in Sanita. It seems to include Mary and Jesus and some sort of exorcism/rebirth. Whatever it is, it stops you in your tracks.

As does the gargantuan double portrait (below), again in Sanita.

My favourite so far, though, is another double-header (below), dominating a street in the Universita area. 

None of these works are slapdash quickies – they've obviously taken a lot of planning and a lot of hard work. And that's why they give so much pleasure to so many – day after day.

Per Ardua Ad AstraZeneca – Again

After a lot of mind, body and soul searching, I decided to have a covid booster vaccination.

Perhaps not surprisingly (see this blog An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Per Ardua Ad AstraZeneca - 19 February 2021), this turned into another little odyssey that would last almost four weeks.

For brevity's sake:

17 November: Called NHS to make an appointment. "Why did you call rather than book online?" asked the apparently helpful callroom person. "Because I thought that dealing with a person would ensure everything would be definitely sorted out." I asked which vaccine I would get and was told to ring the pharmacy involved in running the clinic.

19 November: Called the pharmacy. Did they have AstraZeneca (because I wanted that for my booster, as I'd had no ill effects from the previous two)? Yes, they said, they had limited supplies but it should be all right.

23 November: I called again to double-check and was told again it would be all right.

24 November: Clinic visit 1: They had no record of any appointment booked through the NHS. Yes, they had AstraZeneca – but no, they wouldn't let me have it. They said I had to have Moderna. I explained I didn't want it and asked to see the manager. The manager said I would need a letter from my GP to get AZ as a booster. I told him about my two conversations with his colleagues, who had never mentioned anything about a GP letter. He asked for their names – which I didn't have. 

24 November: Called my GP practice. Someone would call me back next day. I couldn't take a call next day. Someone would call me on the following Monday.

29 November: A locum GP called and said she couldn't help at all, mainly because the practice's computer system had gone down. She suggested I call again next day.

30 November: Called the GP practice and got long, long message which ended by saying the system is down so call back tomorrow.

1 December: Same thing. In desperation I tried a bit later and someone actually answered. The system was back up. I pointed out that the answer machine was still saying that it was down and that people should wait another day. They'd change it. I was told a GP would call me back later. I explained that I wouldn't be able to answer a call between 130pm and 330pm, as I would be in a studio where there is no signal. I emerged at 330pm to find I'd had a missed call. I called the practice again and asked why someone would call me at the time when I said I wouldn't be able to answer. They didn't know, but a GP would call me straight away. No one called for a couple of hours. But finally a GP that I think really knows his stuff called and offered to help. Of course I can get AZ, he said and asked why on earth his time was being wasted on this when he was already under immense pressure. Anyway he said he was writing the letter as we spoke and I could come and collect it any time.

2 December: I collected the letter.

7 December: Clinic visit 2: The first day that I was able to get to the clinic. I went there and saw the manager, who said that the letter was fine, but they'd now run out of AZ. He said they should have some more in three days' time. He gave me his direct line number and suggested that I check with him before visiting again.

9 December: I called him and asked if there would be AZ tomorrow. He couldn't confirm and said I should ring back first thing next day.

10 December: I called first thing and the line was continually dead or cutting out after one ring. I gave up phoning and went to the clinic. Clinic visit 3: the queue for vaccinations was right round the block and I didn't have time to wait.

13 December: Clinic visit 4: I went to the clinic before opening time. The queue was even longer but this time I had time to wait. I called the manager from the queue. Did they have AZ? Yes. The volunteer on the door said I couldn't have AZ. The woman at reception said I couldn't have AZ. I asked to see the manager yet again. He checked my letter and said it was ok. I waited for a bit and finally got the AZ booster – which we are all, rightly or wrongly, being encouraged to get as soon as possible. It had only taken me 27 days...

See Naples and Live – 18: Sex and Dreams and Winning the Lottery

A Naples lottery office ©Nigel Summerley

In a city of superstition and where hope always seems to keep despair at bay, it should come as no surprise that a central pillar of life in Naples is its lottery.

Not only that but there is a clear and established code that will enable you to win it. Maybe...

The code is called La Smorfia and it assigns a number (from 1 to 90) to what you have been dreaming about.

The dream subjects listed are heavy on sex and religion... and sex.

No 6 Chella che guarda nterra relates to the female genitals, while No 32 O capitone is the male equivalent. Women's breasts are No 28 E zzizze, and buttocks (which are particularly associated with good luck in Naples) are No 16 O culo.

There are lots more, including No 27 O cantaro, loosely translated as the shit bucket (a popular Neapolitan insult), and No 47 O muorto che pparla, the dead man who speaks.

I've started using La Smorfia to win the UK lottery but so far my only prizes have been two free entries... Mind you, that's an improvement on past attempts...

See Naples and Live – 17: Street of Shame

 

©Nigel Summerley

Naples has quite a bit of previous when it comes to problems with rubbish.

In the 1990s and 2000s refuse disposal (or non-disposal) in the city and the surrounding area developed into a full-blown crisis. 

The scale of the literally toxic involvement of the Camorra in the waste business is covered in Roberto Saviano's excellent book Gomorrah (see this blog An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Gomorrah - 13 Jan 2021).

In 2010 pictures of uncollected rubbish piling up in the streets of Naples made international news.

Today in the city centre things are much improved and there are plenty of well-labelled recycling bins.

But you can still occasionally turn a corner and see something like the picture above. This was grotesquely awful but at the same time so apparently carefully arranged that it could have been some sort of art installation. 

And it's quite remarkable for the diverse range of foul objects gathered together on one short stretch of pavement. If you look closely you may be able to spot some empty beer bottles stuffed inside a disused toilet basin.

Naples doesn't do things by halves...