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Parallel Lives

the friend Marina Winery, where he rested accommodation pending a hundred of my books, was invaded by the last week. A dozen small volumes are now lying ill on a rug and we, as librarians Florentine forty years ago, and seeing them take care of them. The first volume of Parallel Lives is reduced as you see it here, and I am heartbroken.

The six volumes of this fine edition of the "Modern Library Mondadori" have their little story (parallel in some ways). Had belonged to my father, and her death I had them transferred ideally in my small personal library (I was a kid and I had just started buying books). One day they disappear from their seats and end up on the bedside table my brother, avid reader, messy and omnivorous, unlike me, which I read carefully and patiently. Over time, the six volumes dematerialize, probably following my brother in his movements. I no longer news, but I still sort of regret, a twinge of guilt. Some years ago, turning to libraries, I find the reprint of 1965 (the first edition in 1958) and the purchase. I thought it was done, I am under the illusion that he repaired to the small loss (who knows why I considered this: in the end Plutarch relived my brother's house in his parallel life). Removals, changes in the city, lack of space led to a diaspora of my library (which now reached a nice consistency: many volumes remained at Cassino, and my children, several hundred are still in Naples, I finally left only recently, and most are with me and my wife in Milan, where I hope to find peace at last). Marina offers us the possibility of filing a part of the library in his basement, warm and dry. Until a few days ago when a broken heating pipe led to a cascade of hot water ... And so, finally, here is the strange dinuovo regret.

Del Plutarch I always liked the parallel the title, because it is a sort of statement of scientific historiography that strips the story of the literary part less attractive and relevant, from my point of view, the work of the biographer, that the psychological excavation, claiming to describe the human soul in its claim to self-consistency, which threatens to be deep, but often instead is reduced to a superficial network of actions and reactions. The historical dynamics of the individual is made by Plutarch through contrast, through an examination of the forces that animate analog in the same way different characters by making their choices and actions. The comparative biography, in other words, to be disposed to the story, leaving it bogged down in a fruitless attempt to diagnose soul.

The introduction of Charles Hull was helpful for me to understand some dynamics of the work and the author. The idea, in particular, strongly evocative of a time for me boy, which Plutarch lived in the doorway of that portion of land (within the borders of Boeotia) where history and mythology seemed united in the same fate (see p. 9).

If you read the opening words of the lives of Romulus and Theseus (the first forming the book) indicates that for Plutarch the story is how the geography, space and time, in some ways, I am a ' only dimension in which, therefore, human life is necessary and free: required because space is the element of physicality that binds individuals and companies to deal with basic needs, because free time is the place where the man imagines and constructs his head and imagination. Ancient history, says Plutarch, that of origins, is like a deserted area:

"As geographers, or Sossio Senecio, in representing the earth compress the outer fringe of maps of the areas which have only a vague knowledge, beyond that limit and write "Dune without water, wild animals," or "Marshes mysterious" or "Scythians, frost," or "frozen ocean", so I write in these parallel lives, where the time gap which can reach an understanding and likely to offer a sufficient basis for a story that you comply with facts, I can say about the earliest periods: what lies beyond this point is a wonderful and sublime realm, inhabited by poets and fabulous, uncertain or totally ignored "(p. 31).

And here's the thing. In this uncertain realm ignored and we are sure to find poets and fabulous beasts and uncivilized. Plutarch does not make the mistake of confusing our ignorance of the origins, with the ignorance of the origins who lived them. This error does not commit it because he's lived the door of the world-historical myth.

This idea has stayed with me in the head, and I finally found in Vico, for which the beasts were poets of the origins and history, as made by men, is the product of the mind, language, fantasy, poetic force that also innervates the reason of self.

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From the inside front cover the third volume

admiration that Parallel Lives have aroused great poets like Alfieri and Leopardi and the reasons that have drawn inspiration for Shakespeare and Corneille, testify The fame and the enduring vitality of the most distinguished works of Plutarch. By comparing the lives of great figures of Greek and Roman, the method disclosed by the rhetorical tradition, the author penetrates the soul of his characters to discover, through action, character and moral qualities. The screw not only constitute the largest collection of facts that has come from classical antiquity, but they also take a particular value for the nobility of their substrate and the ethical requirement of an absolute truth which they aspire. "I do not write stories but lives," says Plutarch in the introduction to his "Alexander", at the same time explaining why he ignores the facts of great importance, ignores history, do not undergo a thorough analysis of its sources. The writer and moralist affecting particular, the story is the piece of mind that reveal the man and his feelings of famous enterprises or large battles. These products therefore have a value for example, and as such attracted the attention of the modern reader, because their moral commitment, even if tied to a completely unrepeatable is alive and present in the seriousness of its intent and validity of its teaching.