RINA BRUNDU ON ITALIAN JOURNALISM
WUTHERING SCRIBES
An analysis of Italy’s Newspapers: Untrusted Sources(1) and other considerations.
By Rina Brundu
The saddest part of our incurable xenophilia is its not being an end to itself. In fact, the Italian is not xenophilious because he thinks that better living can be found elsewhere, or is convinced that things work better abroad. On the contrary, he would not dare feed his cat what –off the continent– is regarded a “delicatessen”.
The Italian has no doubt that if one wants to “appear” elegant, he can dress up à la française, but he knows perfectly well that if one is “born elegant”, his clothes are Made in Italy. The average Italian admits that America is a holiday-bonus for beginning enthusiasts; however, “let’s not exaggerate”, because after all, on those shores, “if you have no money and are not somebody, you never know how you are going to end up”. If it goes well, probably on the electric chair.
The fact is that we are born with the inner conviction of being the best. And as we grow older, we become ‘almost’ certain of it. From here comes our shrewdness. No one can deny that there was once a time when everything produced on the peninsula became a model of reference –let’s consider, for instance, literature–, but certainly the glorious Golden Age has long since gone by. Upon close examination, what is left today, in fact, is our maliciousness, along with the unbearable sense of frustration that comes with it.
Maybe our incurable xenophilia is nothing but a miserable consequence of such feeling of powerlessness! Or of the national inability to understand the reasons of the friction caused by the “encounter” between the cultural model that arises and grows within ourselves, and the less edifying questions raised by the reality daily news. Civil news. Economic news. Political news. But not only…
Yet, even after all these considerations, I have never been able to fully justify the slapdash, haphazard air with which, at times, many of Italy’s most ungrateful children defile “La Signora Italia”, ridiculing her overseas for the sake of enlarging their audience to place their partisan campaigns—something that has happened frequently in the last few years. When listening to these compatriots, it would seem that they do not do it “meaning to offend”, but only to “send a message”. Unfortunately, they forget that, beyond the borders, black is black and white is white, while shades of grey are not always appreciated. Even worse, they forget that, when the mother country is laughed at, it is us and only us who pay the price. It is us and only us who, at the end of the day, wind up hurt.
Personally, I have always been against “imported” fashions, especially when imposed in the name of triumphal ethics. For instance, I have always regarded suspicious the presumed “higher-intellectual honesty” of the so-called “Anglo-Saxon journalism”. Naturally, it does not take me much to acknowledge a different modus operandi, but this I believe is generally imposed by important factors, all easily identifiable.
On the contrary, if proof were needed, my long-lasting experience abroad has taught me that the grass is hardly ever greener on the other side. The crisis of these times has done nothing but reconfirm this belief. It would be enough to analyze all the pre-existing and current causes—including the part played by the international press. But I am not really interested in that. Rather, I’m more interested in understanding why, facing the umpteenth “patronizing article” of a foreign journalist, as is —hope the author does not take it personally, but that is what I think— Stephan Faris’ article, Italy’s Newspapers: Untrusted Sources (1), I do not even feel like complaining that much.
In other times, the incipit alone would have been enough to put me in a bad mood: “Any discussion of what’s wrong with Italian politics eventually leads to the question of what’s wrong with the country’s media.” What? Even a tipsy Machiavelli would refute such a start! The only political scenario that would actually worry me within the Repubblica’s territory would, in fact, be one that would not appear wrong to the naked eye! I actually think that we have more than enough of perfect systems. And the results obtained are still standing in front of everybody’s eyes, from East to West. I do not even think that Italian politics, by themselves, are actually sicker than those of any other free country. Unless now Washington plans to convince us that the hawks have retired. How could the option be considered when the effects of “The Madoff Cyclone” still ache?
Unfortunately for us, our problems are far more complex than a mere “wrong-policy”, not mentioning that, to list them all would require much more than just a catchy incipit.
In other times, even the unfailing litany of the Italians who do not read while the surrounding world shines with its own intellectual joy would have made me nervous. Today, I will restrict myself to conclude that, maybe, I was the only one to ever watch, via satellite, dull overseas games and reality shows presenting individuals whose IQ resulted clearly lower than any of the silicon breasts seen during the last Italian Big Brothel.
In other times, I would have been angered by the superficial analysis, typical of the usual Biannual Report on the Bel Paese published, in turns, by this or that “important” international newspaper. Sometimes I get the feeling that these publications coincide with the Roman Holidays of the professionals that, by the way, write with the deserved-awarded vacation received for their admirable coverage of the American presidential campaign or the Iraq War, or whatever it might be.
In other times, nothing would have been enough to sooth my agitated spirits, not even the fact that at least the foreign author does not avoid including names and surnames in his article. Unfortunately nowadays, all I can say is that Faris is right. His j’accuse concerning the untrustworthiness of the Italian press and his given motivations has my full assent—sight unseen. I am not even interested in looking at any further detail.
To realize that he hit the mark it is enough to see the space that Time’s article –TIME, not the latest provincial journal– has been given on the main national papers: dead silence. Apart from Dagospia (2), naturally! The debate that it should have otherwise triggered was dead before it was even born. All this while under the premise of news worth commenting on, Italian journalism web sites continued to highlight the poisoned darts thrown by the various unknown tabloids, edited in some lost Bronteyish memory Heath.
In conclusion, the morbid and often supernatural dynamics, the unmentionable misdeeds that torment the souls of men and women who live in the “wuthering heights” well suit what Italian journalism offers up. Or better, what the abbess and the prior allow it to offer up. All this while fairly skilled scribes and amanuenses toil within the sacred walls from dawn to dusk—obedient servants to the slightest command. And under command, they dream. Under command, they speak. Under command they laugh, and argue, and battle, and get angry. And under command, they retell their unmentionable misdeeds. The filthy desires…of others. Wuthering scribes indeed!
Rina Brundu
Dublin, 27/08/2009
All rights reserved ©
(1) TIME Magazine, Italy’s Newspapers: Untrusted Sources
By STEPHAN FARIS
(2) A well-known Italian site of gossip and news.
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