The Sprezzatura of Life

by Lucas Mantovani (Brazil)

I didn't expect to find Italy

Shares

Everything around me seemed like a page torn off from a Robert Harris novel. As the tip of my fingers swiftly scraped the dust covering the steps of an ancient amphitheater, I sat down to rest after an exhausting walk. My family and I had woken up early that morning to witness the outcomes of Ancient Roman civilization with enough time for thoughtful learning to be processed. As my head looked up, I saw exuberant pillars draw the attention of passing tourists and seemingly centuries-old sculptures become selfie scenarios. However, after the view facing my glasses confronted my intuition, I reminded myself that those weren't sculptures at all. They were the petrified silhouettes of ordinary citizens who once gave life to the vibrant city of Pompeii: a life shaped by the tables, bedrooms, and dining halls that I found so trivial during the chilly stride that had brought me to those very steps. A life ended subtly and dramatically by the lava of the Vesuvius volcano that comprised the skyline. While processing these thoughts, my heart was invaded by a feeling sorrow. I imagined how many words had existed only in the minds of those who once inhabited the constructions ahead of me – words destined to eternal silence. I tried to picture how many engagement proposals had faded along the ashes, or how many plans and dreams had shared the same fate. As morbid as the image of broken bronze sculptures of heroic soldiers buried in that site was the thought of never experiencing battle at all. Of never promoting ideological conflict while advocating prominent ideals – such as my Christian faith or my future crusade against post-truth and fake news – when confronted by unfavorable circumstances. I figured that maybe Philosopher Karl Jaspers' existencialist claims were asserted by my lonely exercise of Socratic Dialectic. Perhaps we, humans, do feel guilty about the mistakes we make due to an awareness that life carries within itself a sense of metaphysical duty. A duty to live every day as our last knowing that it might really be. A duty to seek the Truth that gives meaning to our existence. My yet juvenile perception of such abstract concepts would further attain their true implications. Limited only to idealism, I initially reaped from my experience in Pompeii the calling to live a life with an ambiguous purpose, to, in a blatant clichè, tell my companions about my desire to “make a difference in the world”. It all just seemed like a natural response to the sense of duty that had grown stronger inside me ever sense that chilly morning. Such intuition led me to compose, at the age of 12, the first song ever registered at my small Brazilian town: “If I could, I'd Change the World”, performed locally on my guitar. However, during my teenage years, the composition's title matured into its true significance, depicted by my want to uncover the Truth behind the journey of being human. That was the motivation that accompanied my Philosophical study on the rise of a post-truth era, during High School. While researching how the West no longer seeks Truth as a central value to the political and social sphere, I could not help but notice similarities between my world and that of Pompeii. Pompeii's futuristic and integrated water system was once as innovative as the smartphone I now carry to school everyday. Yet the immense technological advances in both were unable to alert its citizens of the brevity of life, nor of the need to seek a higher truthful purpose behind their endeavors. Such perceptions have created in me the will to wake up every morning and accept that I take part in a movie destined to a short ending. A movie named life, protagonized by artists who creatively fill their blank screens everyday through a constant search for meaning. While playing my role in this film, I've dealt with unrehearsed scripts and La La Land-like endings. However, during all these experiences, Pompeii's dire memory of an abrupt ending makes me give value to my painted screen, no matter how Dadaist it may look, because, ultimately, it was the outcome of my pursuit for Truth.