Haven’t we got rid of Berlusconi yet?
Italy from abroad is filtered through the lens of La Repubblica’s website: from the daily column “L’Amaca” written by Michele Serra and the videos of Maurizio Crozza commenting on the vices of the country at the beginning of the talk show “Ballarò.”
Italy is far but follows me everywhere regardless.
In one of my favourite bookshop in Auckland, I notice on a shelf the book Art in the age of Berlusconi. I can’t bring myself to even flick through it.
Last weekend, my neighbors reminded me that there is an Italian Festival on not far from where we live; I am resisting the idea of going but I end up surrendering to homesickness and the lure of finding some Italian delicacies. What awaits me announces itself with the tune of the Italian version of “Old McDonald had a farm,” the song is broadcast from a speaker sitting next to 4 Ferrari Testarossa. Surely pizza, pasta and bread are well represented; I get immediately annoyed because the Italians there feel entitled to overperform the role of Italians, I find it extremely irritating.The shame for that immodest display of theatricality makes me reply in English rather than my mothertongue.