I wrote about these essays for Florence's English language newsaper Florence News. Here's what I had to say about it:
Florence and Rome in Georg Simmel’s Metropolitain Philosophy
Georg Simmel (1858-1918) was a late-nineteenth-century scholar without a university post, a German-Jewish patriot, and a follower of Nietzsche. His late-Romantic musings on sociological and philosophical topics left their mark on early twentieth-century thinking through the young men who heard him lecture and were inspired to make use of and expand upon his ideas: notably literary critic Walter Benjamin, philosopher Martin Heidegger, and poet Rainer Maria Rilke, among others, heard Simmel lecture and were influenced by his thought in their own work.
Pushkin Press’ lovely little volume The Art of the City: Rome, Florence, and Venice (Pushkin Press, 2018) collects four of Simmel’s essay/lectures dealing with his philosophy of “The Metropolis and the Life of the Spirit,” as the keynote essay terms it. Also included are Simmel’s specific readings of Rome, Florence, and Venice as examples of how city and soul interact. Although the essays are lumped together by city and followed by the more abstract keynote essay, I preferred to read them chronologically—and one might also do well to read the last essay first and then to read the essays on the individual cities (The keynote actually comes in the middle chronologically as it was written after the “Rome” essay, but before those on “Florence” and “Venice.”)
In a nutshell, Simmel’s approach is Romantic, seeking to understand the effect of urbanity on the human soul through our experience of architecture, over-stimulation, and the closeness of others as opposed to rural life with its openness, proximity to nature, and solitude. On the one hand, the urban experience produces what the philosopher calls our blasé attitude (read: alienation), but, at the same time, the metropolis also gives us an “intensification of the emotional life,” a phrase italicized by the author for emphasis. I loved this reading as I’ve long felt, against the grain of cliché, that rural life is anything but contemplative. I, myself, have always felt my thoughts and emotions stimulated, my creative impulses quickened, by urban life and those same impulses totally lacking in a more natural environment. Far from reflective or inspiring, I find the natural world—both beach and mountain—enervating and anything but thought provoking or inspirational in the artistic sense. Nature just is: I don’t believe that it needs either philosophers or artists to reify it.
Similarly, Simmel’s essay on Rome’s aesthetic beauty seconds my own experience of that city, which is one of the themes of my recently published novel, Inbetween. (Florence Underground Press, 2019). Rome, according to Simmel, epitomizes the aesthetic value of desperate elements blending and melding in the historical layers of a city as old and multi-faceted as classical, medieval, Renaissance, Baroque, and modern Rome. Again, here I’m with him. The layering in Rome—most noticeable perhaps around Marcellus’s Theater (now an apartment building atop it’s Coliseum-like arches) and the Ghetto, peppered with marble columns bricked into medieval houses, and often plastered over in the modern style, is an alluring and lovely combination of disparate elements attesting, in my opinion, to human existence in time. I would go further even than Simmel and proclaim that such historical layering is something of a model for human existence, both our super-ephemeral lives as individuals, but also our species’ eternal resistance and ability to build, produce art, to write, and to leave something behind for the humans to come to enjoy—something hopefully beautiful and worth preserving.
The essay on Florence in this volume is also fascinating. Unlike Rome and its diverse beauty, Simmel sees Florence as the great reconciler. Gazing down from San Miniato, he says, “There arises a feeling, as if the contrast between nature and spirit were made void.” It seems as if Florence’s gentle medieval architecture (let’s face it, the true works of the Renaissance are limited to a couple of church facades and the Uffizzi) harmonizes so well with nature that here in Florence the urban and rustic somehow lay down their weapons and shake hands. It’s not a way I’d ever looked at Florence, I must say, but I’m prepared to give the interpretation a chance.