A travelogue revealing the hidden stories of Naples.
In recent years Naples has become, for better or worse, the new destination in Italy. While many of its more unusual features are on display for all to see, the stories behind them remain largely hidden. In Marius Kociejowski’s portrait of this baffling city, the serpent can be many things: Vesuvius, the mafia-like Camorra, the outlying Phlegrean Fields (which, geologically speaking, constitute the second most dangerous area on the planet). It is all these things that have, at one time or another, put paid to the higher aspirations of Neapolitans themselves. Naples is simultaneously the city of light, sometimes blindingly so, and the city of darkness, although often the stuff of cliché. The boundary that separates death from life is porous in the extreme: the dead inhabit the world of the living and vice versa. The Serpent Coiled in Naples is a travelogue, a meditation on mortality, and much else besides.
Marius Kociejowski was born in 1949 in Bishop Mills, Ontario. In 1973, he left Canada and later settled in London. Mr. Kociejowski's father & mother were Polish & English, respectively.
His first collection of poetry was Coast, published by Greville Press in 1991. Anvil Press then published Doctor Honoris Causa (1993) and Music's Bride (1999). A Canadian edition of his poems, which collected the above, So Dance the Lords of Language, was published by Porcupine's Quill in 2003. He has also published two books on Syria, The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool: A Syrian Journey (Sutton, 2004) and a sequel, The Pigeon Wars of Damascus (Biblioasis, 2010), and edited the anthology Syria through Writers' Eyes (Eland, 2006). He lives in London and is currently at work on a record of a world journey through London's exiled and émigré artists, writers, poets and musicians.
This data is taken from PN Review 203, Volume 38 Number 3, January - February 2012. in conversation with Marius Kociejowski by Evan Jones
As someone who doesn’t live in Naples, I can’t judge whether or not Kociejowski has succeeded in his goal of capturing the soul of Naples. What I can say is that he has succeeded at writing a book that is all at once thought-provoking and beautiful. With each chapter comes new insights into the human condition presented through Neapolitan culture, which is interesting in its own right, but applicable to anyone. I learned a lot from this book and thoroughly enjoyed the read.
Napoli è da sempre, nel bene e nel male, la destinazione turistica italiana più ambita e ricercata. Ma mentre le sue caratteristiche più insolite sono in mostra a tutti, le storie che si nascondono dietro di esse rimangono in gran parte sconosciute. Nel ritratto che Marius Kociejowski fa di questa città, in questo nuovo straordinario libro che ho letto in versione cartacea, il serpente che appare nel titolo e che avvolge non solo tutta la scrittura del libro, ma addirittura l’intera città di Napoli e la sua storia, può essere molte cose: il Vesuvio, la camorra, la mafia, i Campi Flegrei, alla periferia della città, che, geologicamente parlando, costituiscono la seconda area più pericolosa del pianeta.
Per scrivere di Napoli bisogna davvero essere un poeta o, meglio ancora, un libraio antiquario. Mr Kociejowski è tutte e due le cose e ha prodotto un’opera deliziosa che è anche eclettica, labirintica, ironica e scioccante come la città stessa. Sono queste cose che, prima o poi, rappresentano, tutto sommato, gli stessi napoletani. Napoli è allo stesso tempo la città della luce, a volte accecante, e la città delle tenebre, anche se spesso solo roba da cliché.
Il confine che separa la morte dalla vita è estremamente poroso: i morti abitano il mondo dei vivi e viceversa. Il serpente avvolto (coiled) dentro Napoli è un diario di viaggio, una meditazione sulla mortalità e molto altro ancora. Si dice che Napoli, da molti ritenuta la capitale stracciona del sud italiano, sia inondata di eroina. Le raffinerie di morfina gestite da cinesi alla sua periferia si travestono da operazioni di alta moda “legittime” che trasformano i pezzetti di seta cinese in “Dolce & Gabbana” o “Versace” di contrabbando.
Le presunte fabbriche tessili sono controllate dalla mafia napoletana, o dalla camorra. Tutto questo è stato denunciato dal giornalista italiano Roberto Saviano nel suo bollente reportage, Gomorra. Pubblicato in Italia nel 2006, quello di Saviano era, comunque, un resoconto parziale, in cui la città carnevalesca dei mandolini e “O Sole Mio” è stata invasa da capitalisti assassini di alta moda “Armani”.
Marius Kociejowski, poeta, saggista e scrittore di viaggi, è attento a studiare a fondo la reputazione della città per la camorra e il crimine di borseggio. “Non c’è modo di aggirare il fatto che Napoli sia un po’ un macello”, scrive. Sotto l’oscura esuberanza di vita della città, però, c’è una pittoresca mitologia ellenica e virgiliana e una ricchezza di folclore.
Il libro di Kociejowski, che prende il titolo dal proverbio siciliano ‘Non temere Roma, il serpente giace attorcigliato a Napoli’, è uno dei migliori è più recenti che siano stati scritti su questa realtà lunare, un vero e proprio avamposto del mondo mediterraneo. In pagine di una prosa quasi accademica ma sempre accattivante, Kociejowski evoca una città infestata dalla morte, dove il significato della vita è ovunque connesso a ciò che significa morire. Gli atteggiamenti napoletani verso la morte sono offuscati da elementi di credenza pagana e dal simbolo di dromedario del Vesuvio che fuma in lontananza come un avvertimento.
Nel brillante capitolo “Old Bones”, Kociejowski prende in esame la rete di cave vulcaniche sotterranee a Napoli conosciute come Fontanelle, piene di antichi teschi umani. Fino a poco tempo fa, devote donne mormoravano preghiere a un cranio di loro scelta, al fine di accelerare l’ingresso del suo proprietario in paradiso o per qualche altro scopo di intercessione, come i numeri al banco lotto. Alcuni dei teschi hanno una lucentezza come scarpe ben lucidate, toccati come sono stati di continuo per buona fortuna.
Il cristianesimo ha lasciato solo una patina traslucida, come una scia di lumaca, sulla superstiziosa superficie del culto funerario delle Fontanelle. L’ossario è situato nell’antica rocca camorristica de La Sanità, dove sono venute alla luce tracce di una necropoli greco-romana. Lungo il suo percorso narrativo Kociejowski intervista musicologi, ristoratori, musicisti di strada, folkloristi, artisti e burattinai napoletani. Descrizioni puntigliose di chiese, cripte e cappelle si uniscono a una sensuale immediatezza dei dettagli e all’apprezzamento dei tanti scrittori che hanno immortalato Napoli, tra cui il poeta romantico Giacomo Leopardi, Charles Dickens, Goethe e Curzio Malaparte.
Il grande romanzo di Malaparte del 1944 sulla Napoli in tempo di guerra, The Skin, (La Pelle) è un “capolavoro deformato”. Spirito irrequieto e indagatore, Kociejowski è attratto dal personaggio di serie della commedia dell’arte Pulcinella, dal XVII secolo un punto fermo del teatro di figura napoletano. Pulcinella (Mr Punch, inglese) ha un’oscura conoscenza dell’aldilà e gli piace abbattere i ricchi. Fu nei Campi Flegrei fuori Napoli che Enea consultò la Sibilla prima della sua discesa nell’Ade. La presunta grotta dell’indovino è ancora lì, il tetto annerito da secoli di fumo di torcia.
Con sgomento di Kociejowski, il percorso che conduce al sito è disseminato di quantità di carta igienica sporca, “come se interi autobus carichi di persone si fossero liberati insieme”. Nel 2017, terribilmente, tre membri di una famiglia in vacanza del nord Italia sono morti cadendo in una fossa nel cratere vulcanico della Solfatara vicino alla grotta. La formula “Vedi Napoli e muori” quel giorno acquistò un significato orribile. Amalgama pungente di reportage e viaggi, “The Serpent Coiled in Naples! rende orgoglioso Napoli e la sua cittadinanza. Per scrivere il suo libro Kociejowski ha abitato a Forcella, uno dei quartieri più loschi del paese natale della camorra, la mafia napoletana. Forcella significa “forcella”, come in “biforcazione” o “Y”.
“Scava più a fondo e quello che viene fuori è il simbolo della Scuola Pitagorica che si trovava da qualche parte nella zona”, scrive. Una digressione sull’uso della croce a Y nell’arte medievale arriva a un gruppo di pietre presso una divisione della strada a Forcella, databile probabilmente al III secolo a.C. quando facevano parte dell’antico muro della Neapolis greca o una porta altrettanto venerabile. Su una ringhiera attorno alle pietre è appeso un cartello “che invita i passanti a ricordare Maikol Giuseppe Russo, un giovane padre di due figli, che divenne l’ennesimo spettatore innocente caduto a colpi di arma da fuoco”.
Napoli è popolata dai cittadini più cordiali, allegri e accoglienti d’Italia. È un luogo magicamente seducente in cui spesso si può sentire come se la saggezza di un mondo più vecchio e vuoto fosse sempre a portata di mano. Eppure è anche una città in cui è possibile trovare, come ha fatto una notte il signor Kociejowski sulla via principale, il corpo di un tossicodipendente ucciso a colpi di arma da fuoco in un occhio. Come osserva, è del tutto possibile diventare napoletani. “Se sia da raccomandare è un’altra questione."
Nato in Canada (nel 1949), Kociejowski si stabilì a Londra poco più che ventenne, dove entrò a far parte delle librerie Bertram Rota. Rimase nel commercio di libri di antiquariato per quasi 45 anni. Per gran parte del tempo ha lavorato a Cecil Court, il vicolo pedonale del centro di Londra, un tempo soprannominato “Flicker Alley” per i suoi legami con l’industria cinematografica.
Interviewing Neapolitans with fantastic stories to tell, revealing the living culture of Naples, is a rewarding approach which brings humanity and depth to Kociejowski’s study of the city. In this way Kociejowski really gets under the skin of Naples, the result being a transporting book that takes you into the place, beyond the outsider and tourist perspectives into a truer, down-to-earth depiction of the city.
However, great swathes of the book are overwhelmed by Kociejowski’s overwrought prose, which feels self-indulgent and pretentious, that foregrounds the author at the expense of the subject. When Kociejowski lets the individual Neapolitans take the focus the book is really successful - unfortunately, he keeps intervening, lyricising his own thoughts and feelings in a way that feels disingenuous and diverts the reader away from Naples and the Neapolitans who form the soul of the book.
The Serpent Coiled in Naples also fails to deliver on the premise alluded to by the author in the first chapter, the quest to seek out the serpent coiled in Naples. Kociejowski concludes that the search for the serpent far outstrips the capacity of a single book, and offers no interpretation or reflection on the past 500 pages of interviews - a cop out if ever I’ve seen one. There is no story here, no incremental compilation of knowledge that implicitly or explicitly reveals the serpent. Instead it is a collection of chapters, interviews and ideas which the author writes around aimlessly. The author admits wryly in the first chapter that he found the title of the book before he identified its premise, and that he did not want the book to fail to justify the title as a result. For the author to be so candid about this and then fail in exactly the way he stated in the first chapter is quite astonishing, frankly. We all have our blind spots, a book will always have flaws, but to fail in exactly the way you joked about in the first chapter? It makes the whole thing feel ill-conceived and foolish, even hubristic.
The chapter on the anime pezzentelle, the cult of death in Naples, is a real stand-out and shows Kociejowski’s writing at its best. If this standard remained the same throughout the entire book I’d give four stars instead of two. Last star deducted for the way Kociejowski assumes a highly intellectual understanding of Naples from the reader by littering esoteric references to Neapolitan history throughout the text with no explanation of the terms, the effect being to make the author seem smug. This habit fosters a sense of exclusivity which, to me, undermines the purpose of writing.
I was looking forward to reading this book after reading The Street Philospher and The Holy Fool and the Pigeon Wars of Damascus both "travelogues"of Syria so Iexpected a similar book about Naples However this book was completely different - it was more a history of Naples then a journey of discovery of the lives of its people. I think this is because the author was not part of the story as in th two books above but simply acted as a narrator which made the book boring. There were one or two snippets mainly a connection with a chef and also a singer but these hardly relieved the boredom Very disappointing
Not an easy read this voluminous book about Naples, but a very interesting approach, focused on the hidden stories of the town that make it what it is. Some parts are truly fascinating, like the cult of the anime pezzentelle or the part about Pulchinella, but the style of the book is unashamedly intellectual, and it meanders more than it flows. It would have been an easier and more ‘efficient’ read if the editor cut out at least half of the pages, but there is an almost meditative aspect that would have been lost.
The author creativily bounced between past and present Naples. I never really got into the cadence into this book, perhaps because I'd int read the travel genre very often. There are very interesting bits in the book, just not my cup of tea.
A meandering, disjointed wander through the esoteric myth and history and personalities of Naples. Dense intellectual prose, self-regarding, and intemperate. But when he organized his thoughts and concisely delivered 50-60 pages on a fascinating topic (lake avernus, anime pezzentelle, Naples singing, etc), it really delivered and gives exceptional insight into this most wild, wacky, and inexplicable of cities.
This is written in a slightly old fashioned, European manner. The style fits the subject. Each chapter is an essay on Naples itself or a character who lived there in the past or lived there at the time the author was writing the book. If you have ever been to Naples, where Vesuvius dominates daily life, you may recognize a place,a phrase, an attitude, or a meal. I spent 2 weeks in Naples in the summer of 2020. It is still with me.
a London poet, librarian, long-time resident of Damascus spends time in Naples, in one of the most poor and crime ridden neigbourhoods in the center.
a lot about (incl. very old Greek & before) history, loss of glory, culture & nature (living on a huge magma field which could blow up most of Europr.. but also about the habits of the poor, the Camorra (part of life and generally reasonable), the N'Drangheta of Calabria (barbaric in a wasted region).
I read this book over the course of several months. There is a lot to absorb in his telling of his experience in Naples. It is an exploration of people and culture, history and tradition, ritual and superstition. It would be a good accompaniment on a visit to the city as it shows side of Naples that a typical tourist would not see. Full of rich characters and stories.
This was more a marathon than a sprint. It is a learned, deep dive into cultural aspects of life and death in Naples. It’s not pretty but it is fascinating, especially if you’ve been there. For me, some chapters worked very well while a few were repetitive and would have benefitted from an edit. Really glad I read it - and quite moved at times, especially the last chapter. Life goes on hey?
The author has a meandering way of writing, which is fine, but didn't particularly engage me. I do not know if I would have finished this book had I not just been in Napoli and seen firsthand, though a very small dose, it's magic and aura. He chose some interesting focal points and I'm glad he did it, given globalization and its effects on this mystical city.
Bought this because I thought the introductory chapter was hilarious and I was about to travel to Naples. Unfortunately, I found the rest of the book pretty tedious, and though I loved Naples, did not feel I had really gained any insights through this book (the somewhat overlong chapter on anime pezzentelle excepted)
Long and long-winded, but mostly fascinating background stories on modern street art; Pulchinella; individual skulls in a mass gravesite adopted and pampered; seasonal rituals and celebrations, and the volcano and Phlegrean Fields.
A magnificent work about life, death, literature, art, music, food, and everything else. Almost always it transcends the city that it takes as its theme. A book to think with.
I relished every moment I spent in Naples, a gloriously shabby city where laundry hangs from palazzo windows and the art is so full of emotion that I half expect statues to spring to life. So I eagerly purchased this book, seduced by laudatory reviews in "The New Yorker" and "The Spectator," among others.
Disappointment ensued, big time. Marius Kociejowski smothers his considerable knowledge in pillowy prose, almost 500 pages of loose thinking, shopworn conjecture, dubious tales, and relentless hyperbole in the form of adjectives and adverbs (always, never, most, only, best, all, absolutely, perfect, etc). He is head-over-heels about Naples, rather than lucid and concise.
Brace yourself, too, for cruel and stupid stereotyping, the worst example of which may be this failed attempt at flattery: "One of the most persistent things about Naples is the way even the most uneducated people are able to give voice to things beyond their reach. They are not locked inside some prison of the inarticulate from which the only escape is a stream of expletives." Insight is not beyond the reach of the uneducated, sir, nor are inarticulate people reduced to expletives. They can, for instance, pray.
Well-informed though he is, the book does not seem to have been fact-checked; e.g., Bayer did not name aspirin for Saint Aspren, the first bishop of Naples. His respect for facts is further undermined by silliness, e.g., saying of Raimondo di Sangro (1710-1770), "Maybe he didn't die at all." As a set up, it's lame, and lame conjecture follows.
The text is also larded with filler like, "What is true everywhere, in Naples is twice as true" and "This was, is, will always be, after all, Naples." Perhaps his biggest sin is quoting himself, then adding, "It is a questionable business quoting oneself and it borders on downright crass." Indeed it does, especially if it's not worth quoting.
Much of the book consists of conversations with Neapolitans, including a local activist who brings a welcome note of sanity when he says, "Naples has nothing other cities don't have except, perhaps, for the bay." Naples is a challenging destination for well-known reasons. Kociejowski knows that, but is too smitten to write sensibly about it. Ultimately, he's so intoxicated by the city that he's produced a love letter, more fervent than insightful.
I really enjoyed the book, but maybe that's because I live in Naples. I'm pretty sure it would not resonate the same way for someone who has not been here, or only passed through for a few days of sightseeing.