We have a Nine and a Six arriving this afternoon to spend the weekend with Nana and Granddad — and they’re bringing their dog. Mom and Dad deserve some Couple Recharge time, which has been in short supply for most parents during this pandemic. But now that Granddad and I have both have booster shots and the Not-So-Littles have had their second vaccination, it’s ON!
And because it’s been a busy week and it’s shaping up to be an even busier weekend. . . and because my sister and I walked past a significant family grave today. . . and I’m reading a wonderful book set in a cemetery (recommended by a much-loved sister-in-law who knows something about living with grief: Valérie Perrin’s novel, Changer l’eau des fleurs; my SIL read it in its English translation Fresh Water for Flowers — so rich, so moving, and so cleverly structured to keep you turning the pages). . . and finally, because I haven’t finished telling you about our time in Rome this past fall and I’ve begun making plans for another trip this spring, fingers obviously crossed. . .
For all those reasons, because, because, and because again. . . today’s post consists mostly of photos from our visit to Rome’s Protestant Cemetery this past October (in Italian, it’s called Il Cimitero Acattolico or sometimes Il Cimitero Inglese or sometimes Il Cimitero dei Protestanti). I’ve been there before, back in 2016, when I posted a few photos on Instagram: here, here, and here. I also published a quick blogpost about intending to get there a day or two earlier, but slowing down instead, a very good morning of coffee and people-watching in Rome),
But Paul’s never been to the Cimitero Acattolico, and it’s a place I wanted him to see. Plus I selfishly wanted to get there again, and since we were staying on the Aventine Hill, we were close enough for a pleasant walk. . .
Here’s what I said about the cemetery after that first visit (in case you didn’t read that Instagram post):
So glad I heeded a blog reader’s suggestion that I visit the Protestant Cemetery in Rome. What a delightful way to spend a few hours, not the least bit macabre. The cemetery has none of the Gothic atmosphere of, for example, Père Lachaise in Paris, perhaps partly because the light is so different here, the vegetation brighter. Then the cats and the fragrant flowers and the pomegranates…and the ancient pyramid putting all in a grander perspective from just outside the walls. As well, the volunteer staff here do a brilliant job, so friendly and informative. And there are clean free toilets (but do leave a donation at the Cemetery gates, should you visit. They could use, and deserve, the financial support.
Five years later, I felt the same way. . .
I think Paul agreed. . .
I had to show him this sculpture, of course, wondering if he’d find it as affecting as I did. Five years earlier, I’d written (in this Instagram post) that I was deeply moved by sculptor William Wetmore Story’s “Angel of Grief” (1894) which served as his wife’s gravestone, and then his own once he’d joined her. Something so singularly affecting about the prostrate posture.
What I didn’t really process last visit, however, was that William Wetmore Story died only a year after the death of his wife, Emelyn. At first, so devastated that he lost all interest in sculpting, he took up his chisel again determined to memorialize her. And despite those first months lost to grieving, this now-iconic sculpture — which presents an angel markedly different from those that otherwise fill countless cemeteries, not heroic, not rescuing or consoling, but struck down in sorrow just as any human might be — was completed within the year that Story survived his wife. And since then has served as a memorial to both of them and to the six-year-old son who predeceased them by some 40 years.
So many other significant graves or memorial markers here, that I will perhaps show or tell you about on future visits. Or perhaps you’ve visited this cemetery as well, and have favourites to share.
I’m not sure if this relaxed feline has a particular interest in or attachment to any of the cemetery’s permanent residents. . . .
but they obviously enjoy, as I do, the respite this space offers from the bustling and noisy city just beyond the gates.
Respite from bustle and noise, hmmmm. . . Hold that thought, until Sunday afternoon when the Not-So-Littles and their lovely dog wave good-bye. . . And then I’ll be napping in my bed and I could happily imagine myself snoozing in that Roman sunshine falling across a bench in a quiet corner under a leafy canopy. . .
What about you? A hustling-bustling noisy weekend ahead or some sweet equivalent of a nap in a ray of sunshine falling across your comfortable perch? And if you’ve visited this cemetery, did you enjoy it as much as I did? Have a favourite grave? Or corner? Are you one of those who, like me, will use the least excuse to wander the pathways through a cemetery, or do you find them uncomfortable, even macabre, or simply too weighted with loss and sorrow? (there are no wrong answers here, obviously).
As for me, I’m off now, to take advantage of the last few quiet hours before my sweet and lively guests arrive. Chat soon.
xo,
f
I enjoy the quiet and history that you find in a cemetery and also seek them out when traveling. They tell us much about the history of the community, what they have endured, and bring individuals to life by the messages shared on their tombstones. Thanks for sharing your enjoyment of this cemetery. Enjoy the grandbabies!
Author
Thanks, Terri! and I absolutely agree with you about cemetery visits, as you can probably tell.
Thanks for sharing this. I’ve never been to Rome. What a wonderful cemetery.
Author
Well, you’ve wandered a wonderful cemetery in Rome now, at least virtually 😉 I’m glad you enjoyed it.
That is a very affecting statue. Thank you for sharing that.
Author
Isn’t it?! And you’re very welcome!
How lovely to have grandchildren visiting this weekend. It will be busy I’m sure, but lots of memories will be made. I’ve never seen anything like the weeping angel sculpture, which I found very affecting. It’s so well executed that it takes on a fluidity that belies its stone form. My weekend will be quiet and I’ll spend some time thinking about what endeavours I’d like to tackle next. I recently finished an excellent online lecture series about Italian women artists of the 16th and 17th centuries, which taught me a great deal and helped me better understand why so few women artists are well known. You may be aware that the Uffizi and Pitti galleries are doing more to show their apparently large collection of works by women artists – I wonder what exhibitions they have planned for spring?
Author
“takes on a fluidity that belies its stone form” — yes! You articulate so well the quality that gives this sculpture so much of its power — that stone can be fluid, that strength can melt in grief. . .
That lecture series sounds engaging and very relevant — I saw an exhibition of Artemesia Gentileschi’s work in Paris a few years ago; the price she paid for being well known was shockingly high. . .
I’ve been checking out a few of the gallery websites for “upcoming exhibitions” — dreaming . . .
I enjoy visiting cemeteries too. They always leave me wishing that I knew more about the lives of the people resting there. The Angel of Grief is absolutely stunning! Story captured the emotion so perfectly. It would be worth a visit to that cemetery just to see that! Have a wonderful time with your grands.
Author
So many stories in a cemetery, aren’t there?
And thanks, we’re having a good time, but I’ve got plans for an extra-long nap after they go home today 😉
We enjoy visiting the Pere Lachaise cemetery every year…followed by a nice apero out the back gate afterwards..
Author
A perfect day! Even better when you’ve been many times and feel no urgency to see it all.
I just started reading your posts. So enjoyable and thought provoking. The angel really brings up emotions of loved ones passed. Love your sewing stories! You are appreciated.
Judith in Arizona
Author
Welcome to the blog, then, and thank you for the encouraging words.
Thank you for sharing these lovely photos. I have not been to Rome since 1985, would lover a revisit, who knows! Enjoy your moment of quiet.
Author
You’re welcome, Darby!
1985, I imagine it’s changed significantly. . . but my first visit was 8 years ago, so I’ve missed all that!
Frances…the Story sculpture of such poignant sorrow absolutely made me catch my breath and quickly say a prayer of thanksgiving. We’ve recently come out of a long period of health challenges exacerbated by CoVid. I’m thankful to report that my husband is on the mend and that we are beginning to have “normal” days. We have even had company! The miracle of all of this is that I consistently tested negative even as I ministered to him.
Enjoy your weekend of grandchildren-love, creating even more wonderful memories for them…and for your adult children. Such blessings for all.
Charlene
Author
Oh, that is good news, Charlene! And how amazing that you evaded the virus through all the home nursing.
Take care.
What a lovely place, Frances. That statue is amazing. I’ve always loved cemeteries too. As high school students we used to take our lunch and eat in the Old Loyalist Cemetery in downtown Fredericton. Amazing to think of that now that it’s fenced and teenagers are NOT allowed to sit on the square tombs anymore eating their sandwiches.
Author
That scene! You and your classmates perched on a few tombs, sandwiches spread out on wax paper on your laps, chatting about weekend plans and crushes and new shoes and bands. . . Love it! I’m imagining it as a photo spread for Seventeen magazine’s fall issue, circa ’73? What do you think?
When I was a child visiting my grandmother in a small eastern North Carolina town, we would ride through (drive) the cemetery to or from going downtown. I would ask to go see Papa (my grandfather) and Granny happily turned the car into the cemetery. I knew all of the different family plots and where the most interesting markers were located. It was a quiet and peaceful place to visit. Sometimes Granny would share stories that I hadn’t heard before. I have wonderful memories of visiting the cemetery with my Granny.
Author
Oh, this is just lovely Susan! Thanks for sharing these memories . . . (and one of the granddaughters, Nine, has been asking about graves and would probably appreciate a visit to see where her great-grandparents rest . . .
Il Cimitero Inglese is so beautiful indeed,a hidden gem!
Haven’t been there yet, but,who knows….
Author
Who knows, indeed, where we might yet get to. Not done yet, right?!
Lovely photos. I’ve always wanted to visit the Protestant graveyard – so many well-known and (even more interesting) not so well-known stories on those stones. And I enjoyed too your link back to your 2016 post – how I sympathise with that hesitation to brave the interior rather than takr the easy option of a pavement table – and the thrill of successful communication when you do dare!
Author
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Rosemary, and I hope you get a chance to visit it yourself some day. Thanks for taking the time to visit that 2016 post — it represents a favourite travel moment.
That cemetery is a place to remember, isn’t it? I wish you all the best for going back soon. As for me, I am already thinking Puglia again. In May, if all goes well.
Author
It really is. . . as for Puglia in May, incrocio le dita per te. . . .
How lucky you are to be returning to Rome so soon. We’re returning to Florence and I wonder if you could address efficient ways to handle pre-travel testing for those of us planning spring trips to Italy and nervous as cats about how best to handle it all. Testing here before leaving is manageable, but how and where and when to be tested before return flights is a mystery.
Author
I don’t know what country you’re returning home to after your trip to Florence, Noelle (ah, Florence! I just read a delightful novel set in that city, mid-20th-century), but for Canada, right now, a PCR test is required, which is definitely tricky to manage in that 72-hour pre-flight window. When we did this last fall, we did the test at a lab in Paris, and yep, the timing makes it stressful especially since none of the labs would let us make an appointment. And the rules were changing enough, even then, that I kept visiting various sites to check. Your airline might post guidelines and I know Government of Canada has rules posted as well on its travel website. Before our last trip, I texted our hotel in Paris and they gave me the name and address of the nearest places I could get a PCR. You might ask yours to do the same. Personally, I suspect that this requirement could be scrapped by sometime this Spring. Crossing my fingers that will be so, but not counting on it! 😉
I feel like I’ve forgotten that other countries exist. Thank you for the reminder.
Author
xo 😉
Oof! Stopped in my tracks by that prostrate Angel of Grief. Shades of angels casting angels out of Paradise in God’s name, and the angel with the fiery sword casting the human race out of Eden in God’s name. Such a deep cry of despair, calling into question the very possibility of God.
Antonio Gramsci is also buried there:
Antonio Gramsci (1891-1937), filosofo italiano, organizzatore e co-fondatore del Partito Comunista Italiano. Gramsci scrisse più di trenta quaderni di storia e analisi durante la sua prigionia voluta da Mussolini. I suoi Quaderni dal Carcere contengono sia idee relative alla storia italiana e al nazionalismo, sia riflessioni originali sul Marxismo e principi critici ed educativi, tra cui il famoso concetto di egemonia culturale. Morì poco dopo il suo rilascio a causa di problemi di salute.
When visiting him with one of my professors (also deceased now, sadly but buried in Pescara, the last place he taught) we encountered many Roman cats. At my most recent visit to Père Lachaise – also seeking out the ghosts of people I knew – I also encountered many Parisian cats, but as often there, it was chill and damp, so les minous were more furtive.
In Gramsci’s case “problemi di salute” was quite the euphemism. As he was dying, he was victimised not only by Mussolini and other fascists, but also by certain orthodox communists loyal to Stalin’s totalitarian rule.
I love the term “Acattolica”…
Author
Si, ho visto la tomba di Gramsci, e entrambe le volte che ci sono stata c’erano persone che la visitavano. E anche tanti gatti. . . Come Lei ha scritto, i gatti del cimitero romano e i gatti del cimitero parigino erano molto diversi (come i rispettivi cimiteri). I gatti romani erano sdraiati al sole; i gatti parigini sgattaiolavano . . . (una nuova parola per me; spero di averla usato correttamente).
I love that “Acattolica” as well. . . says volumes. . .