A Park, a Pope, and Three Poets

Parco Gianicolense.  I had never heard or seen the name before I spotted it on my paper map of Rome last Saturday afternoon.  I was looking for sites in my neighborhood to check out, as I really hadn’t explored Trastevere as extensively as I had other parts of Rome.

It turns out Gianicolense is a public hilltop park that offers spectacular views of the entire city of Rome.  And it was right in my backyard!  It took me less than ten minutes to walk to the park from my apartment here in Trastevere. 

            What I saw when I got to the top of the hill blew me away.  The view from the top was nothing less than a picturesque panorama of Rome.  Looking out at the city, I was able to pick out many of the landmarks that I’ve already visited, from the Pantheon (wide grey dome on left side of the picture) to the Altare della Patria “wedding cake” monument of Vittorio Emanuel II (big white structure on the right side).  My favorite aspect of the view, however, was the dark outline of the Apennine Mountains that frames the whole scene from a distance.

View of the city from near Parco Gianicolense

            The park’s name, derived from the Italian name for the hill it sits on, Gianicolo, is translated into English as “Janiculum”.  The name derives from “Janus”, the two-faced Roman god, as the hill was once used as a pagan shrine.  Interestingly, The Janiculum Hill is not one of the legendary “Seven Hills of Rome”, as it is west of the Tiber River. 

After taking plenty of pictures of the city, I started to explore the park’s interior.  To my surprise, I found rows and rows of stone busts depicting famous Italians from throughout history lining the interior walkways of the park.  I found the coupling of the busts with the beautiful views of the city a very potent combination.  It seems fitting to me that many of Italy’s great minds and military leaders are now immortalized in a spot that overlooks the city they fought so hard to defend. 

Finally, I crossed to the opposite end of the park, where I was rewarded with this glimpse of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica through the trees.  This view of the Basilica was a very unique angle for me, as I’m used to seeing the dome of St. Peter’s on my walk to school or on my way to other site visits – in the context of the cityscape.  It was really neat to be able to see the dome all by itself, framed by the beautiful greenery of Gianicolense.    

St. Peter's through the greenery of Parco Gianicolense

            This view of the Basilica dome is a perfect place to end my narration of the park visit on Saturday, as St. Peter’s is where I would start my day on Sunday. 

I woke up early on Sunday morning in order to walk to St. Peter’s square and receive the “Angelus Domini” (Sunday blessing) from Pope Francis.  Pictured below is a panorama of the square I took while waiting for the Pope to appear.      

Panorama of the "welcoming arms" of Bernini's St. Peter's Square

            The Sunday blessing is a noontime ritual that the Pope performs each Sunday when he is in Rome.  He appeared from a high window on the right hand side of the Papal apartment complex and spoke for close to twenty minutes.

I listened carefully from my spot near the center of the square, trying to translate the handful of Italian words I recognized in my mind.  The Pope started his message by asking Chi è Gesù per ognuno di noi? (Who is Jesus for each one of us?)  The Pope then put his question into the context of the Gospel of St. Luke, and finally transitioned to a reflection on the meaning of the question in the modern world. 

The Pope ultimately instructed the crowd to let go of any unwarranted fears and uncertainties, and to find the strength to carry on through Christ.  He then blessed the crowd and recognized a few special visiting groups – who subsequently cheered, flew banners in the air, and jumped up and down.  The Pope is a ROCK STAR! 

The throngs of people leaving St. Peter's after the Angelus Domini

             Many have dubbed Francis “the people’s Pope”, and for good reason.  The Pope mentioned the Italian word for love, amore, several times during his short speech, and it was an incredibly liberating experience to see that love embodied in the diverse crowd that gathered in St. Peter’s Square to attend his blessing yesterday.   

            The Pope draws a lot of pilgrims to Rome.  The pilgrims come to see the Pope, just as people interested in history come to see the historical sites, but no one – or at least not many people – feel the need to actually live in Rome just to be close to the Pope or the history here.  The main reason why some people do come from abroad to live in Rome – and I’m specifically talking about non-Catholic ex-pats here – is because of the nice weather. 

The Mediterranean climate is what brought a sick John Keats to Rome in 1820.  The reason why I mention Keats now is because I spent this afternoon (Monday) in the Keats-Shelley House, a “British Museum Abroad” as I was told by a dapper-looking Prince Charles in the Museum’s introductory video.   

 And so just like that I transition from an afternoon spent in St. Peter’s square to an afternoon spent in the Roman residence of a second generation Romanticist.  QUITE a contrast there.   

The Keats-Shelley Museum borders the Spanish Steps.  The second window from the top on the left side is Keats's bedroom

The Keats-Shelley House, which is located adjacent to the Spanish Steps (and maybe 3-4 km northeast of the Vatican), is where John Keats took up residence in November, 1820 with his friend, the artist Joseph Severn.  Keats was already suffering badly from Tuberculosis at this point, and he died in the house just three months after he arrived, in February of 1821. 

           

Room where John Keats lived, and died, in Rome

Today, the Keats-Shelley house is home to a collection of letters and manuscripts written by Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Lord Byron.  It’s only fitting that the legacy of these three writers should be preserved together in one house, as the fate of these three writers was also tragically intertwined in life. 

Keats met Shelley briefly in 1816, and the two corresponded by written letter for some time afterwards.  When word of Keats’ death reached Shelley, who was living in Pisa at the time with Lord Byron, Shelley was moved to write the famous Elegy, Adonais, for his friend.  Stanza 49 of the Elegy perhaps best captures Shelley’s despair:

“…Go thou to Rome, – at once the Paradise;

The grave, the city, and the wilderness; …

Where, like an infant’s smile, over the dead

A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.”

In a tragic twist of fate, Shelley drowned at sea just four months after the death of Keats.  Now the despair shifted onto the shoulders of Lord Byron, who would elope to Greece and die one year later of fever.  Only the good die young.  Byron was 36.  Shelley was 29.  Keats was 25.  Yeesh.  That’s all the tragedy this blog post can handle.

So anyways, I have to admit that I was a little apprehensive about being all alone here in Rome this weekend (as my roommates have been in Florence), but I’m glad that I got the opportunity to rest my legs, and still do a little bit of exploring at my own pace.  In the spirit of being alone though, I’d like to end this post with an excerpt that takes me back to my first adventure in Parco Gianicolense on Saturday – from John Keats’s O Solitude: 

“O SOLITUDE! If I must with thee dwell,

Let it not be among the jumbled heap

Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep, –

Nature’s observatory – whence the dell,

It’s flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,

May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep

‘Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap

Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell. 

But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,

Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,

Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,

Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be

Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,

When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.”

Ciao,

             Brock