concerning beauty

I enjoyed my remaining days in Milan very much, and I found my visit
to be very interesting in one particularly interesting way. Gabriella
adores Milan, and I think with more time and familiarity I would, too.
But Marco, Francesco, and some of their friends didn't seem to have
quite such a high opinion. Marco, for example, emphasized the city's
aesthetic inferiority to Rome, Venice, or Florence. Withholding
nothing from Rome or Venice (I haven't been to Florence), I still
think Milan is an incredibly beautiful city. The Duomo di Milano, in
particular, easily ranks with the Cathedral of San Lorenzo in Genoa as
one of my favorite cathedrals in Italy--it's so extravagant that it
flirts with tackiness, passes completely beyond absurdity, and comes
full circle to achieve a stunning beauty. I've never been to Paris,
but the hundreds of statues, figures, and gargoyles decorating the
Duomo di Milano brought to mind my idea of Notre Dame (based as it is
on the Disney adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame... have I ever
written something so disgustingly American on this blog before? That
said, it's one of absolute favorite Disney movies, so I mean no
disservice in its evocation! I'll have to go to confession and
repent--next time I'm at the Duomo di Milano, of course!).

But even Marco declared the Stazione Centrale in Milan the most
beautiful train station in Italy, and I have to agree. My word of
advice to visitors arriving in or leaving Milan by train: even if you
take the metro connection into or out of the station, take five
minutes to leave the station gaze up at it. And then, as you're
looking, realize that Mussolini had it built, and you'll have an
entirely new perspective on its beauty. In Marco's roughly translated
words, "Stazione Centrale is one of the only good things Mussolini
ever did."

Anyhow, while I clearly appreciate aesthetics, beauty alone is not
enough to enchant me. And what better way is there to segue (did you
know the English word segue comes from the Italian verb "seguire,"
which means "to follow"? "Segue" would mean "it follows") into my trip
to Venice?

I'm currently staying with a former professor, Cinzia, and her
family, outside of Venice (more to come on that in my next post). We
went to visit Venice yesterday, just for the day, and Cinzia showed me
some quieter, less touristy neighborhoods that we didn't have time to
see last year. In the morning, before the tourists come in, Venice is
less crowded. It really is a beautiful city, architecturally and
aesthetically. But unfortunately, that's not all it is. Venice is a
fucking zoo. Excuse the profanity, parents, if you're reading this,
but there's really no polite way to describe the throngs of tourists,
in groups of 20 or 30, following guides speaking into microphones in
Japanese, German, French, English; the men selling fake handbags, fake
sunglasses, and junk toys in blankets on the streets and bridges,
ready to snatch the blanket and their merchandise up at the first
sight of cops; the total chaos and confusion in the Piazza San Marco,
where I doubt you could find an actual Venetian if your life depended
on it, excepting those who are giving tours, and even most of the tour
guides are not, in fact, Venetian; and speaking of things that are not
Venetian, the ornate souvenir masks in every shop in the city that
don't actually resemble the tamer, classical Venetian masks in the
slightest. I could go on, but I won't. I know, I know, I'm a tourist,
too. But the least I can do is never, EVER again make the mistake of
being a tourist in Venice.

In sum: Milan, 1; Venice, 0-for-2.