Zibaldone

by Leopardi, Giacomo

  Percussare from percutio [to strike]. Crusca. See the Glossary. (20 Apr. 1824.)

  Those who have no needs are generally much more needy than those who do have them. To occupy life is one of the greatest and principal needs of man.2 It is as real as any of those needs that are provided for by occupying it; in fact more real, and much greater too, because satisfying this need is the only or principal means of making life the least unhappy possible, whereas satisfying any of those other needs in themselves, is only a means of maintaining life, which in itself has no importance. Happiness, however, is important or, with life as given, leading it the least unhappily one can. Now those who do not have needs, or rather those who do not have to provide for the needs they have, are much less able to satisfy this greatest need, which is continual and inseparable from human life, [4076] and do so more rarely, and in the main for a period which is much shorter than that of their lives, and generally much more incompletely than those who themselves have to provide for their own natural needs and those of life. (20 April, Easter Tuesday, 1824.)

  “Cuerpo mal sustentado y peor comido” [“Ill-nourished and worse fed body”]. Don Quixote, Madrid 1765, tome 4, p. 220. “Muger parida,” that is, que ha parido [“a woman who has given birth”], ibid., p. 226. (21 Apr. 1824.)

  For p. 4053. In The Age of Louis XIV by Voltaire, The Hague, 1752, tome 2, end of chapter 33, “Du jansénisme,” p. 254,1 I find tombeau [tomb] and immediately after tombe twice, with exactly the same meaning as tombeau. (21 Apr. 1824.)

  With reference to what was said elsewhere [→Z 3494–97, 3544–45, 4048, 4050] about demigods demonstrating the high opinion the ancients had about human nature, observe how easily in Roman times emperors and members of their family were deified, or their freedmen and favorites, either while they were still alive, or who had died at the time in the presence of those who were deifying them, indeed at that very moment. Even the dictator Caesar was deified, with a flamen, etc. etc., after his death at least. See the historians and Suetonius, at the end of his Life.2 I will not go as far as to say that those who deified them, and other intelligent people, perhaps even the most ignorant and most superstitious dregs of society, especially in times already enlightened and generally undeceived in many things (although even in those times some people, even nobles and senators, were incredibly superstitious, like Xenophon and even more so, a cultured and learned man of a comparable Greek period) really believed in the divinity of such emperors or their family or favorites, alive or dead. But still this custom of deifying [4077] contemporaries, which since it was so sought after on one side by ambition, by adulation on the other, cannot have been completely without a certain persuasive effect in some section of the population, demonstrates how little distance and diversity of nature the ancients thought existed between the divine and the human, without which it would not have been possible for such an absurdity to have entered their heads. Certainly not even in the most barbarous, ignorant, and superstitious times of Christianity did anyone think or could ever have thought either to make anyone else believe or just to say for the sake of adulation or for any other reason that any person not merely contemporary, not merely alive, but dead, ancient, and famous for their holiness, and for any virtue or worthiness whatever, power and deeds, true or believed to be true, had been transformed or ought to be transformed, I will not say into a divine nature, but even an angelic one. And what Christian would have dared to write about any Prince, Christian or not, even if he had been greater, more formidable, and more despotic than Augustus, and he himself more of an adulator and more base than all other men of the age, a distich similar to the one attributed to Virgil: “Nocte pluit tota” [“All the night it rains”], etc.?1 What Christian prince would have had himself represented with the attributes I will not say of the Eternal Father or of the Son, but of an Angel or of an Apostle, as the Emperors, their family, their favorites, had themselves sculpted, painted, etc., or were painted and sculpted in order to flatter them, not only after death, but in life, with the attributes and in the form of Hercules, (even a woman in the Vatican Museum is represented by a statue in this form, that is with a club, lion skin, etc.) of Venus, of Mercury, and the like. Not to mention the temples, the idols and altars erected to the living by the Romans, with regular and daily sacred rituals, sacrifices, and honors completely divine, with a flamen [4078] specifically for the cult of that particular divinity who was still alive (flamen augustalis, etc.),1 punishments decreed and carried out against any blasphemer or any violator of those divinities dead or alive, as guilty of religious not political offense, accusations and judgments against those charged with such crimes, etc. etc. Alexander too passed himself off as the son of Jupiter Ammon, and it seems that in some ignorant section of the population he was believed, not only by barbarians, but by Greeks and Macedonians, and it is very probable, or certainly the case, that he used such a pretense politically to get himself respected and feared, etc., and obeyed, etc., which shows that he judged this should be believed of him, especially by the Greeks and the Macedonians, since the barbarians did not recognize the same gods. See in Lucian in the Dialogues of the Dead, the ones between Alexander and Diogenes, Alexander and Philip, Alexander, Hannibal, Scipio, and Minos. (21 April 1824.) And certainly Greece was then a country no more foolish nor less enlightened than Rome at the time of the Emperors. (21 Apr. 1824.)

  Positivized diminutives. Not only in French pistolet for pistola [pistol], but also in Spanish pistolete, perhaps from the French since in Spanish ete is not a diminutive ending. (22 April 1824.) The Spanish also say pistola. Don Quixote, Madrid 1765, tome 4, pp. 237–38, where a little further on, p. 235, you find pistolete. (23 April 1824.)

  For p. 3106. Nothing is perhaps more able than this to show the difference between the modern and ancient way of thinking (particularly very ancient, a time to which Phrynichus and especially Homer belong)2 on the points we are discussing here, a difference which has a direct bearing on the general diversity of the state of the human spirit in ancient and modern times. When in recent years, after [4079] the return of the Bourbons, the Tragedy of the Sicilian Vespers was performed in Paris, a tragedy which had a remarkable success,1 who at all, either Frenchman or foreigner, thought to accuse the poet of a lack of patriotism or of any failure in relation to his native land for his having moved or having tried to move the audience about the suffering of his fellow countrymen brought about by foreigners? In fact was there anyone who did not think this subject and choice of theme highly patriotic and more worthy than any other of a good citizen? Because the poet did not want to make people weep for the enemies of France, but for the misfortunes of the French. Now that was just what Phrynichus did, he did not move his audience to tears over or in sympathy for the barbarians, but over the Greeks and for the Greeks. And for that alone he was condemned, and he would have been applauded for the reverse, and thought a good citizen, if he had made his audience weep and made them feel compassion and pity for the enemies of the nation, as Aeschylus did in the Persians, a tragedy which has for its subject and as the only material of pity and terror the ills of the enemies of Greece, and was not condemned by anyone, or thought to be other than highly patriotic. Such is exactly the case with the Iliad, which makes one weep, almost uniquely and certainly mainly, over and in sympathy for the Trojans, the enemies of his fellow countrymen. (23 April 1824.)

  In the “Dialogo della Natura e dell’Anima”2 I have considered how reason and imagination, indeed all the mental faculties which are excellent in man above every other living creature, are the cause of his never being able or hardly ever, and in any case with difficulty, to make use of all his natural forces, as all the other animals do every day [4080] without any difficulty. Add. People say madmen have extraordinary strength, which no one can resist, especially face to face. It is thought it is their illness in itself which gives such strength, unlike all other infirmities. Is it not clear that it comes from their not having any impediment in themselves to using all their n
atural forces? That madmen have more force than other people just because they use all those they have, or most of them which others do not? In fact exactly like an animal. From which I deduce: how many animals which are said to be physically stronger than man, actually are not! How much of his forces must man have lost because of the progress of the human spirit, not only in a radical sense, but because he has been impeded in the use of the little that does remain! How much stronger man is, even corrupted and weakened, than he thinks he is. Madmen prove it, who with their physical forces often overcome people who are much more robust than they are, and animals that are generally thought to be stronger than man when they are up against one another. Drunkenness increases strength not only radically, but also negatively since it impedes and disturbs the use of reason. Unless there is a total lack or suspension of this use, no man, even the most unreflective one, even a child, even a savage, even a desperate man (all of whom, however, as we know from experience have or seem to have proportionately much more strength than their opposites) uses, even in the moment of his greatest need, or greatest danger, exactly all the forces he has in all their kinds and to their full extent. Not so animals: or certainly they save infinitely less of their [4081] forces, even when there is least danger, need, desire, intention, than man does, even the most desperate one, etc., in the greatest dangers. (23 Apr. 1824.) What has been said about madmen may be said equally in due proportion about desperate people. See p. 4090.

  For p. 4073, paragraph 2. Similarly the French à moins que … ne, which means eccetto se … non [unless], etc. See the Dictionaries. (24 April, Saturday after Easter, 1824.)

  For p. 4073, paragraph 1. It is well known that for a very long time, at least up to the end of the fifteenth and early sixteenth century, they continued in Spain, in Germany, and I think in all of Christendom (which was then all or nearly all Catholic) to make annual collections for future crusades, whenever they might be, and these collections were also called crusades, and they amounted to huge sums of money (especially when you consider the great rarity of currency in those days), which the Popes, who seem to have had the money at their disposal, sometimes authorized respective kings to use for their needs, but they were always very reluctant to do so (and often they refused), especially when these were openly or secretly linked to, in support of, some undertaking close to the Pope’s heart, etc.a1 Guicciardini mentions this several times, including tome 3, p. 143. (24 April, Saturday after Easter, 1824.) I do not know however if these were fixed collections or levies, and compulsory, with obligations of conscience, or something else. See the Historians. (24 April 1824.) See p. 4083.

  On the subject of verbs in are formed from those of the third conjugation, mentioned elsewhere [→Z 2813–15, 2986, 2996–97], see Meurs, tome 5, Opera, p. 419, where however he makes the mistake of deducing from vellicare [to pluck] that there may have been a vellare, when it is in fact a frequentative of vellere [to pluck] (or diminutive, etc.) and belongs to the first conjugation, because all frequentatives or diminutives of this kind, from whatever conjugation of verbs they are formed, belong to the first. (24 Apr., Saturday after Easter, 1824.)

  [4082] Positivized diminutives. Perpétuel, perpétuellement [perpetual, perpetually]. Continuel, continuellement [continual, continually]. We find continuement or continûment, and continu as well. See the Dictionaries. Note that these are adjectival diminutives. Struzzo–struzzolo [ostrich]. Struffo–strufolo [bundle of fluff]. (25 Apr. 1824, Low Sunday.)

  “Apprendre plusieurs langues médiocrement, c’est le fruit du travail de quelques années; parler purement et éloquemment la sienne c’est le travail de toute la vie” [“To have a mediocre knowledge of several languages is the work of a few years, to speak one’s own well and eloquently is the work of a lifetime”]. So says Voltaire, whose language though was only French, reputed to be the easiest of all languages, both ancient and modern. Histoire du siècle de Louis XIV, ch. 36, “Écrivains,” art. on Longuerue (the Hague, 1752–1753, tome 3, in the addenda, pp. 195–96). (26 April 1824.)

  ᾿Εν τοσούτῳ for intanto [meanwhile] mentioned elsewhere [→Z 4017, 4022, 4061]. Lucian, Opera, tome 1, p. 686, toward the end. The phrase “ἐν ὅσῳ δὲ ταῦτα ἐλογιζόμεθα” [“while we were making a decision about what to do”] is similar, ibid., p. 692, Amsterdam 1687. (26 Apr. 1824.) En tanto que. Don Quixote, Madrid 1765, tome 4, p. 281.

  The Latins said be ce as well, etc., non bi ci, as Corticelli acknowledges at the beginning of the Tuscan Grammar,1 see there, as well as Buommattei and the other Latin, Italian, French grammarians, Spanish, etc. (26 Apr. 1824.)

  Ser-v-ente, ser-g-ente [servant, sergeant]. See the Crusca. Ser-v-ant, ser-g-ent. See the French Dictionaries. (26 Apr. 1824.)

  ᾿Εκτὸς εἰ μὴ [unless, except that], a phrase (similar to the Italian one) mentioned elsewhere [→Z 4050], Lucian, Opera, 1687, tome 1, p. 700, toward the middle. (27 April 1824.) p. 701 beginning.

  Compagnon, mentioned elsewhere [→Z 4034] is also Old Italian and Spanish (Don Quixote) for compagno [companion], perhaps both from the French. (28 April 1824.)

  [4083] Exhaustare. Forcellini under Exhaustant. (28 Apr. 1824.)

  Μεταξὺ for nondimeno, con tutto ciò, al contrario [nonetheless, on the contrary], see in Lucian, in the Tyrannicide, just after the beginning, Opera, 1687, tome 1, p. 694, end. This meaning is unknown to Scapula. The interpreter translates it as interim [meanwhile], which is its proper meaning, but it does not fit here. Interim, Interea never have this sense in Forcellini. See the Glossary. Certainly in French cependant [however], that is μεταξὺ, is used still with the meaning of nonetheless. Hence corruptly modern Italians say and write intanto, frattanto [meanwhile], for nondimeno [nevertheless]. See the Spanish. (29 Apr. 1824.)

  For p. 4081. See Guicciardini as well, 3, 216,1 and on the tithe he speaks of there, see ibid., pp. 179, 196, 209, 254. (30 April 1824.) See too Guicciardini, 3, pp. 248–53, 395, 397; 4, pp. 154, 172–74.

  ᾿Εξ ἀρχῆς εὐθὺς [right from the beginning] Lucian, Opera, 1687, tome 1, p. 728. (30 Apr. 1824.)

  To what I have said elsewhere [→Z 4046] about our Italian usage of adopting as a pleonasm and for the sake of idiomatic and graceful language the dative pronouns si, mi, ti, a usage which we have also found in early and familiar Latin, add that we Italians adopt such a pronoun with many neuter verbs, or active ones, which when they are joined with it, are wrongly called passive neuters by grammarians and lexicographers, like dimenticare [to forget] which can also be dimenticarsi with the genitive or accusative or with che, etc., immaginare [to imagine] which can also be immaginarsi with the accusative or with che, etc. These verbs with si, which are numerous, are not passive neuters at all, [4084] because the si here is not accusative, and so does not indicate a passive sense nor the transference of the action to the subject doing it, but it is dative and absolutely redundant for the sake of graceful language, as in Latin sibi, hence these verbs with si keep the same meaning as they have without it, as absolute or active neuters, and are not passive neuters any more than andarsi or andarsene [to go away], starsi or starsene [to stay], and the like. And so when these verbs are active, coupled with si, they must not, for example in the pluperfect, become io me l’era immaginato, as is the rule with neuter verbs and passive neuters, but io me lo aveva immaginato [I had imagined it], io me lo aveva dimenticato [I had forgotten it], because here the verb is as active as it is if one were to say, omitting the pronoun si, mi, ti, which alters nothing and does not count in such cases, io l’aveva dimenticato, etc. And that is the form good writers use, that is io me lo aveva immaginato, etc., and the one we ought to use,1 exactly as in those active verbs in which the pronouns si, ti, mi do have a meaning, as for example in io mi avea fabbricata una casa [I had built myself a house], that is avea fabbricata una casa a me. But in many and perhaps most cases even those who are knowledgeable go wrong, writing io me l’era immaginato. And it is not to be wondered at, because similar
ly they usually write io m’era fabbricata una casa, as if fabbricarsi were here a passive neuter, when it is clear, and on this there can be no doubt, that it is absolutely active, like fabbricare, since mi is dative not accusative, and is the same as saying io gli avea fabbricata una casa, [4085] for which no one would ever nor does say, not even the most stupid person, io gli era fabbricata. Furthermore I think this redundancy of dative si, mi, ti is generally common in French and Spanish as well. (30 April 1824.) See p. 4098.

  As the physiognomy of men, and animals, is determined by their eyes, as I said elsewhere [→Z 1576–79, 2102–103], observe that if you draw a human or animal face and you do not put the eyes in, you do not see what the physiognomy of that face is, and you hardly feel (even though you know it is the case) that it is a face. Similarly silhouette portraits in profile do not seem to be portraits until you add, in an appropriate place, what cannot be seen in the shadow, that is, the eye.1 On the contrary, if when putting the eyes in you leave some other element out, you are very conscious that it is a face and that you understand its physiognomy; the only thing is that you will think it monstrous, but it will always be for you a face and a physiognomy. And I will say it is the same, proportionally speaking, if you draw or represent the eyes more or less imperfectly, when you compare the effect of this imperfection in determining the physiognomy with the effect of a similar imperfection in any other part of the face whatever. (30 April 1824.)

  Παρ' ὀλίγον fere [nearly], Lucian, Opera, 1687, tome 1, p. 718. See the Lexicons, per poco in the same sense. (1 May 1824.)

  Ignominia for innominia [ignominy]. As ignotus for innotus [unknown], etc., mentioned elsewhere [→Z 4068]. (2 May 1824, Sunday.)