| The first time I tried to read this book, I didn't get it. Perhaps I was too distracted or reading it too quicky or sporadically, but I kept waiting for something important to happen or somebody to say something worth underlining and quoting, and got impatient when nothing happened and nobody said anything. It has sat abandoned on my bookshelf for a couple of years. This time around, I had a little more time to read and a little more space to think. It made all the difference. I enjoyed the subtlety of Silone's characterization. He delights in small, subtle humor, in symbolism that doesn't scream itself aloud -- like the drunk peasant who falls off his donkey and then beats the donkey. It slips by you if you're not attuned to it. There are probably other valid interpretations, but to me, Pietro (or Don Paolo) really isn't the main character here. He is simply a placeholder for the reader, so that I can see and hear and experience rural Italy. Perhaps because I can so easily identify with him. (I, too, am an idealist, a revolutionary with romantic ideas about the poor and romantic hatred for Institution. I may not be an exile on the run, but I live in a more tolerant time and place. A demonstration in Italy in the 30's might have been viewed by the authorities as criminal activity; in 21st century America, it's considered entertainment. I don't know which is more frustrating.) I have experienced Pietro's (and Silone's) frustration with those he is trying to help -- that ironic feeling that you could do a lot of good for the poor, if the poor would just cooperate. The peasants of Italy, and the universal poor by extension, are the heroes of this book -- those people that most revolutionaries strive and die to empower and free from oppression, yet few revolutionaries actually take the time to understand and love. The gold in this book is Silone's gentle, compassionate, humorous rendering of these people -- what they care about, don't care about, how they make decisions, what they fear, what they think about and hope for. It is an exposition of a collective mind; a dangerous undertaking, bound to slip into stereotype at times, and one that Silone undertakes with great reverence. As I go among the poor in my own day and age, I remember Silone, and find that what he has to say rings true. Much too often, attempts to help, to organize, and to "empower" are ultimately patronizing and arrogant. It is much better simply to break bread with them, and learn to know and love them. After all, this is what Jesus did, the greatest and best riend of the poor, and the ultimate Saviour of all mankind. I would rather follow his model than Marx's. |