Summary
Highlights
Pascoli criticizes socialist poets for advocating class struggle, proposing instead a utopian, humanitarian socialism where classes coexist peacefully. He idealizes a poet as a humble, elderly figure content with a small plot of land, finding greatness in simplicity, echoing Latin poets like Horace. He emphasizes that a poet is not an orator or a philosopher, but one who reveals truth through their inner child.
'Il Fanciullino,' a pivotal essay by Pascoli, was first serialized in 1897 and finalized in 1907. It's influenced by positivism and new pedagogical theories focusing on the child, particularly the studies of James Sully, whom Pascoli read in French. Sully emphasized the importance of love and sensitivity when observing and educating children, a sentiment that strongly resonates with Pascoli's work.
Pascoli's idea of the inner child (fanciullino) is rooted in Angelo Conti's 'La Beata Riva,' where the artist is portrayed as a child marveling at the world. Pascoli expands on this, asserting that within us resides a child who experiences profound emotions. He references a Platonic dialogue where a philosopher expresses a child-like fear of death, suggesting that this primal fear is something we all carry.
When we are young, the fanciullino's voice is indistinguishable from our own. As we grow, the fanciullino remains small and constantly reminds us of our innate wonder. Adolescents often feel shame towards their inner child, while the elderly cherish this connection, often reliving life through childlike eyes. Pascoli uses the metaphor of a nightingale (fanciullino) singing against the roaring sea (maturity) to illustrate this dynamic.
Pascoli, a classical philologist, draws a parallel with Homer, depicting him as a blind old man led by his fanciullino. This inner child tells stories not for honor but for understanding, finding wonder in everyday things like bronze spears and war chariots, rather than conventionally beautiful women or goddesses. The fanciullino doesn't exaggerate; the marvel of the stories lies in their inherent simplicity and truth.
The fanciullino is responsible for our primal fears, our animistic tendencies (attributing souls to inanimate objects), and our inexplicable joys and sorrows. Pascoli calls the fanciullino a 'musician' because it blends its voice with the poet's, giving meaning to the world with fresh perspectives. It's curious and loquacious, assigning names to everything it perceives, showcasing an imaginative, though seemingly imperfect, language.
Pascoli argues that the fanciullino resides in everyone—professors, bankers, farmers, and laborers—even if stifled by adulthood. It awakens during moments of shared experience, like attending a religious service or a beautiful concert, revealing glimpses of innocence and wonder in adults' eyes. He addresses the fanciullino directly, recognizing its ability to utter profound truths in simple terms and its eternal, pure gaze.
The fanciullino provides meaning to the 'new world' it encounters, constantly renewing and naming it. True poetry, for Pascoli, is 'pure poetry'—without adjectives—and possesses a vital moral and social utility. It finds the smile and tear in things through childlike eyes. He references Virgil, who, in times of civil war, recognized the power of Orpheus' lyre (poetry) over Hercules' club (violence), emphasizing poetry's ability to heal and unite.
Pascoli criticizes Italian poets for being too serious, cunning, and imitative, rather than innovative. He believes they polish existing statues instead of sculpting new ones, lacking the courage to explore and create. He contrasts poetry that seeks applause with poetry that moves the heart, asserting that true poetry is discovered, not invented, and its value lies in itself, not in the poet's persona.