Zibaldone

by Leopardi, Giacomo

  For p. 1124, margin. Everything I’ve said [→Z 1151–53] about the monosyllabic nature of successive vowels, even though they are not numbered among the diphthongs, increases in force if these double, triple, etc., vowels are the same, that is, double letter e, double i, etc., and especially i (the thinnest letter of the alphabet). For not only iambic and comic poets, etc., but epic and lyric poets, etc., often considered the [2248] double i a single syllable, as one can see in Dii, Diis [gods, to the gods]; indeed, more often, I believe, a single syllable than two. Indeed, they still wrote it with a single letter; this was characteristic of the ancients, and was then followed by the poets. (See Forcellini, Cellarius, Encyclopédie. Grammaire, art. “I” or “J.”)1 Now, our case is, precisely, that in the past tenses of the 4th conjugation there is a double i, which I also believe will often be found in ancient Latin writings and the poets, both written and counted as a simple vowel, or a single syllable, and perhaps more often than not, that is, more often audi than audii, etc. Note that our forebears, too, used to write udì, partì for udii, partii, etc. The Latins did the same and also wrote as one the double i of ii, iidem, iisdem, etc. See, among other infinite examples, Virgil, Aeneid 2, 654; 3, 158. And how often do you find among the poets or ancient prose writers audisse audissem, etc. etc. Or, e.g., petiisse as a trisyllable, etc. Maybe more often than as a four-syllable word.

  Observe also that au, which is not one of the Latin diphthongs and is pronounced as two separate vowels (at least the Italians pronounce it that way, and so the ancient grammarians teach, or show, when [2249] they don’t count it among the closed diphthongs), nevertheless always forms a single syllable. See p. 2350, end. I think we’ll sometimes find suadeo, suesco [to advise, to become accustomed], etc., in the poets, especially the more ancient ones, in such a way that sua and sue are calculated as one syllable each. In fact, that’s very often the case. See the margin of the next page. In suadeo the second syllable is long. But in Virgil, Eclogues 1, l. 55; Aeneid 2, l. 9, etc., suadebit, suadentque are trisyllables. See the Regia Parnassi on Suadeo, Suesco, etc. etc., and the examples of poets in Forcellini, “adeo in teneris consuescere multum est” [“we become habituated in our youth”], Virgil, Georgics 2, 272, etc. Abiete [fir tree] in Virgil, Aeneid 2, beginning and 5, 663, etc., is trisyllabic. Ariete [ram] likewise, ibid., bk. 2, l. 492. See the Regia Parnassi, and Forcellini also under Arieto as [to butt like a ram]. And why is the i so often a consonant if not to be counted as forming a single syllable with the following vowel or vowels? For there is no consonant i by itself; rather, it is always a vowel sound (unlike the v, which by its nature is distinguished from the sound of the u). All the Latin consonant js (which in ancient times were always written i) therefore simply form so many diphthongs, in accordance with what I’ve said about double vowels. Dejicere [to throw down], a four-syllable word, has in effect five vowels. Likewise Jacere [to throw], etc. etc. etc.

  [2250] “Non liquidi gregibus fontes, non gramina deerunt” (disyllable), Virgil, Georgics 2, 200. And you’ll find an infinite number of such examples in the strictest and most refined Latin versifiers. Which proves that the pronunciation of such words helped them. (13 Dec. 1821.) “Corticibusque cavis vitiosaeque ilicis alveo. / Quid,” etc., Georgics 2, 453. See pp. 2266 and 2316, end. “Miscueruntque herbas et non innoxia verba,” Georgics 2, 129; 3, 283. “Vir gregis ipse caper deerraverat: atque ego Daphnim,” Virgil, Eclogues 7, l. 7. “Tum celerare fugam, patriaque excedere suadet,” Aeneid 1, 357. “Atria: dependent lychni laquearibus aureis,” Aeneid 1, 726. See Aeneid 3, 373, 450, 486, 541; 5, 269, 773; 6, 201, 678; [7], 33. (And there see the variants.)

  “Sponte sua quae se tollunt in luminis auras, / Infoecunda quidem, sed laeta et fortia surgunt. / Quippe solo natura subest” [“The plants that grow spontaneously into the realm of light are infertile, certainly, but they rise flourishing and strong: the power of nature lies in the soil”]. Georgics 2, 47ff. He is speaking of plants that sprout up everywhere, naturally, and grow by themselves, without cultivation. (13 Dec. 1821.)

  That famous old view of the golden age, the lost happiness of a time when customs were at their most simple and rough and yet men were most happy, a time when the only food was what nature gave, those acorns “le quai fuggendo tutto ’l mondo onora” [“which, as it flees them, all the world pays tribute to”],1 etc. etc.—can’t this judgment, so celebrated among poets both ancient and modern, and outside poetry as well, be very useful in corroborating [2251] my theory, by demonstrating the ancient tradition of man’s degeneration, of humankind’s lost happiness, a happiness consisting entirely in a state of nature, similar to that of the beasts, and enjoyed only in primitive times, and before the start of civilization, that is, before the first changes in human nature brought about by society? (13 Dec. 1821.) See on the subject the ancient Life of Virgil, where he talks about the Bucolics, ch. 21 and the beginning of 22.1

  For p. 2243. Everything that is ended, everything that is last, naturally awakens in man a feeling of sorrow and melancholy. At the same time, it excites a pleasurable feeling, pleasurable in that very sorrow, and that is because of the infiniteness of the idea that is contained in the words finito [ended], ultimo [last], etc. (Thus by their nature such words are, and always will be, poetic, however ordinary and common they are, in whatever language and style. And so are [2252] those other words and ideas, in whatever language, etc., that I’ve noted in various places [→Z 1534, 1789, 1825–26, 1927–30] as being poetic in themselves and in the infiniteness that, in essence, they contain.) (13 Dec. 1821.) See p. 2451.

  That the private citizen is bound exactly by the same social, moral, business, etc., duties toward the foreign private citizen, especially an enemy, as he is toward a compatriot or fellow citizen, and toward those who are subject to the same laws as he; that there exists, in short, a law, a body of universal law that embraces all nations and obligates the individual toward the foreigner no more nor less than toward his fellow citizen—this is an opinion that never existed before Christianity, and was unknown to the most philanthropic ancient philosophers, not only unknown but evidently and definitively excluded by the strictest, most pious and religious ancient legislators, by the purest moralists (like Plato), by the holiest religions and legal systems, [2253] including that of the Jews.1 If in some ancient nation, or a primitive modern one, law or custom forbids stealing, that means from one’s compatriots (however far this attribute extends, because sometimes it’s restricted to a single city, sometimes to a nation, even a divided one, like Greece, etc.), and not from the foreigner who shows up, or if you find yourself in a foreign country. See Feith, Antiquitates homericae, in Gronovius, on piracy, etc., λῃστεία, practiced by the ancients legally and honorably against foreigners.2 The same goes for cheating, lying, etc. etc. In fact, observe that among savage peoples, who are ordinarily virtuous in their way, and filled with principles of honor and conscience toward their fellow countrymen, etc., travelers have always or very often found a strong tendency on their part to rob them, cheat them, etc., and yet their morals were not corrupt. See the histories of the conquest of Mexico concerning the customs relating to lying of the least civilized of those peoples.3 Likewise the ancients or savage peoples, finding themselves in a foreign land, [2254] never thought that by harming the inhabitants in any way they were breaking the law.

  If hospitality and the rights of guests were ordinarily guaranteed by ancient laws, in that you were not permitted to violate someone (foreigner or fellow citizen, but mainly fellow citizen) whom you admitted into your house, etc. etc., this law, this opinion—under which the guest was considered sacred, and the rights of guests were entrusted to the Gods as Lords and universal legislators of the world—was not an effect of nature, or innate, but the work of pure reasoning, which demonstrated that since man in society oftentimes needed to go or be among foreigners, and under laws different from his own, he would always have been in danger if he had not reciprocally observed the duties of hospitality, etc
., toward foreigners who came to his country. And these considerations—not innate, derived not from a natural [2255] law, from an inborn morality, but from pure reason and calculation of the useful and necessary, in accordance with the existing circumstances of society—these considerations, I repeat, are the entire foundation of the supposedly eternal and universal edicts making up the (supposedly absolute) law of nations, man, war and peace, etc. (15 Dec. 1821.)

  Regarding the ancient custom of celebrating the birthday of famous literary, etc., people, even after their death (besides that of living people, friends, etc., examples of which you can see in many odes of Horace, and in the antiquarians,1 etc. etc., not only on the occasion of birthdays but on many other anniversaries, either public or private, and celebrated publicly or privately), see Heyne, Vita Virgilii per annos digesta, first year of his life, and the authors he cites, and the notes to them.2 (15 Dec. 1821.) See, in particular, Horace, ode 11, bk. 4, ll. 13–20 and the commentators on this passage, and also observe the custom of celebrating one’s own birthday or anniversary, considering it sacred and festive.

  [2256] What Virgil says in Georgics 2, 420–30, compared with what he has written previously about the difficult and laborious cultivation of vines, and their inevitable decay, can be applied to demonstrate what food and drink and what life nature destined for man; and how contrary his present (acquired and artificial) needs are to nature, and how, in order to satisfy them, we have to force nature; and how deeply, as a result, we must believe that our present life corresponds to the order destined for us by that which formed us. (15 Dec. 1821.)

  “Ante etiam sceptrum Dictaei regis, et ante / Impia quam caesis gens est epulata juvencis, / Aureus hanc vitam in terris Saturnus agebat. / Nec dum etiam audierant inflari classica, nec dum / Impositos duris crepitare incudibus enses. / Sed nos immensum spatiis confecimus aequor” [“Even before the reign of the sovereign Dictaeus, before impious people ate murdered oxen, golden Saturn led such a life on earth; they hadn’t yet heard the sound of the trumpets of war, or the clatter of swords placed on anvils. But we have covered an immense expanse in space”]. (Note, however, that this line is said by Virgil in another sense.) Georgics 2, end.1 (15 Dec. 1821.)

  [2257] I’ve elsewhere (p. 1970) discussed the future subjunctive probably used by Vulgar Latin instead of the future indicative. See Virgil, Georgics 2, 49‒52, where exuerint has to mean they will strip, or something so similar that it makes it very likely that these two futures were interchangeable in the vulgar Roman dialect. (16 Dec. 1821.) See also Horace, Epode 15, 23‒24, moerebis‒risero [you will mourn, I will laugh], and p. 2340, and Virgil, Aeneid 6, 92.

  The height of any building or structure both outside and inside, or of a mountain, etc., is always pleasing, so that one forgives in its favor even a lack of proportion. As in a very tall, thin steeple. Indeed, that very lack of proportion is pleasing, because it gives prominence to the height, enhancing the appearance and impression and feeling and perception of it. To someone who heard that the extraordinary height of a certain temple was criticized as being out of proportion to its size, etc., I heard the response that if this was a flaw it was a beautiful flaw, and that it satisfied and invigorated [2258] the mind of the spectator. The natural and intrinsic and metaphysical cause of these effects you already understand well.1 (16 Dec. 1821.)

  Another resemblance between the world and women. The more sincerely the former and the latter are loved, and the truer and stronger the intention of helping them, and making sacrifices for them, the more certain one may be of not succeeding in any way with them. Hate them, despise them, treat them solely with an eye to one’s own advantages and pleasures—this is the only, the indispensable, means of making progress in love, as in any worldly career, with any person, or society, in any part of life, in any purpose, etc. etc.2 (18 Dec. 1821.)

  You can see Forcellini under cilium [eyelid] and note how among the ancient Latin authors, too, you find obvious traces both of this word and of the meaning that it has in our language. Word and meaning from Vulgar Latin without a doubt. And the good Latin word supercilium [eyebrow] shows the existence of the simple [2259] cilium in the sense of something that belonged to the eye. See also the Glossary and the French and Spanish dictionaries. (18 Dec. 1821.)

  Why are women ordinarily malicious, sly, tricky, deceptive, sharp, imposters, both in love and in devotion, and in everything they undertake, and in whatever occupation they begin? Why do they acquire so early the inclination for and the art of deceiving, dissimulating, pretending, seizing the opportunity, etc. etc.? Why does the cleverness of a woman of mediocre talent and experience of the world very often defeat the skill and cunning of a man who by nature and practice is the most able? Do we believe that the mind of women is naturally and automatically disposed to want and easily acquire these qualities, unlike the spirit of men? Do we believe that these faculties (since they are really faculties) are produced in females more than in males, and are characteristic of a [2260] womanly nature? No, indeed. The natural, primitive spirit of women has no trace of those faculties, or disposition to acquire them, any more than men have. Rather, the ease and perfection with which they acquire them has no other cause than their natural weakness, and the inferiority of their strength to that of men, and their being able to rely only on art and cunning, since they are inferior in strength, and inferior, too, in the rights that law and custom distribute between men and women. That’s all there is that is natural and innate about the malicious character of women. That is to say, neither the character nor any particular disposition to acquire it exists in the female nature. Rather, there is only a quality, a circumstance that causes it, which is, in fact, extraneous to the nature, the spirit, the working of the intelligence and the mind. In fact, place women in other circumstances, [2261] that is to say, assume that they never entered any kind of society, especially with men; or that laws and customs did not make their condition inferior to that of males (which happened in primitive times, and which perhaps happens today, too, in some barbarous countries); or that the said laws and customs favored them somewhat more, or even placed them above men (I know of a country where they are considered sacred beings); or that, owing to certain circumstances (as was told of the country of the Amazons, etc.), they are generally or individually either equal or superior to the men they deal with, as a result of physical or intellectual force, natural or acquired, as a result of wealth, or rank, or birth, etc. etc.—and you will find their art and cunning either nonexistent or negligible, or not superior or inferior to that of men, at least those they deal with; or in any case proportionately less, depending on the quality of the said circumstances, than that of women [2262] placed in the opposite circumstances, even if they are less clever and less malicious, etc. Daily experience demonstrates this. Not only in women but also in men who are weak, or poor, or ugly, or flawed, or uncultured, or inferior in some way to those whom they deal with, such as courtiers, who are used to dealing with superiors, and so are always cunning, and deceitful, and dissemblers, etc. And not only in men but in entire nations (like those subject to despotism), cities or provinces, families, etc., as history, travel, etc. etc., demonstrate. And change the circumstances and the times, and that same nation or city or individual, male or female, loses, diminishes, gains, increases in cunning and duplicity, which are believed to be in their character when observed superficially. Savages are ordinarily duplicitous, dissembling, false toward strangers who are physically or morally stronger than they are. And observe that cunning is a characteristic of their intelligence. Now, it is very often greater precisely in those who, because of their intelligence or culture and the exercise of it, [2263] are at a disadvantage compared with others. (Thus, in women generally, since they are less cultured than men, in plebeian or badly educated individuals, male or female, in savages with respect to the civilized, etc.) What greater, clearer proof that the mind, understood as a whole, and its faculties are the work of circumstances, when we see that the very circ
umstance of having a limited mind gains for it a faculty (which belongs entirely to it) that larger minds do not have, or have in a lesser degree? (19 Dec. 1821.)

  Antichi [ancients], antico [ancient], antichità [antiquity]; posteri [descendants], posterità [posterity] are very poetic, etc., words because they contain an idea that is (1) vast, (2) indefinite and indeterminate, especially posterity, which we know nothing about, and antiquity, which is similarly obscure to us. Anyway, all words that express generality, or a thing in general, pertain to these considerations. (20 Dec. 1821.)

  The theologians, the Fathers, and the interpreters often say, in regard to many parts of ancient Jewish divine law, that the lawmaker [2264] adapted to the coarseness, materialism, incapacity, and often (so they say) hardness, intractability, sensuality, tendentiousness, obstinacy, stubbornness, etc., of the Jewish people.1 Now, then, doesn’t this in itself plainly demonstrate the nonexistence of an eternal, absolute antecedent morality (in whose dictation the divine legislator could never have omitted one single jot), and that this morality, since it needs to adapt to the diverse circumstances of nations and times (and of species, if diverse species of beings had morality and laws), as a result depends on them, and derives from them alone? (20 Dec. 1821.)

  The Italian language routinely uses substantive nouns governed by the preposition con as adverbs, such as con verità for truly, con gentilezza [with kindness] for gentilmente [kindly], con effetto [in effect] for effettivamente [effectively], con facilità [with ease] for facilmente [easily] (Della Casa, letter 43 “of exhortation”).2 This faculty is used much more frequently by the Spanish language (from which, at least in part, the Italian perhaps derived it). The usage [2265] is not very or not at all familiar to Latin; indeed, it might be judged almost barbarous in that language. And nonetheless I am persuaded that it was accepted in Vulgar Latin. Look at Horace, 3, 29th ode, ll. 33ff.