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Updated: May 29, 2025
A contemporary Italian, whom I like hardly less than these noble Spaniards, is Giovanni Verga, who wrote 'I Malavoglia, or, as we call it in English, 'The House by the Medlar Tree': a story of infinite beauty, tenderness and truth. As I have said before, I think with Zola that Giacometti, the Italian author of "La Morte Civile," has written almost the greatest play, all round, of modern times.
George and Mark argued about Giacometti. George maintained that Giacometti was better than Picasso. Mark would have none of it. "All that angst! He never met a color he didn't like cuz the color was always black. My God! I mean, for an Italian!" "He was Swiss," Jennifer said. "That explains it," Mark said. "I love you," George said. "I took Modern Art at Bowdoin," Jennifer said.
One of them, whom I by no means thought the best, has given us a play, known to all the world, which I am almost ready to think with Zola is the greatest play of modern times; or if it is not so, I should be puzzled to name the modern drama that surpasses "La Morte Civile" of Paolo Giacometti.
Stone Man was made of small diameter logs and had a strong narrow head. "How did you fasten the head? Is that a rock?" "It's a piece of slate. I split the end of the log, stuck his head part way down the split, and lashed it like a tomahawk." "Something else, Max! Giacometti goes to Indonesia." "And Vermont," Max said. "He sways in the wind. The idea came to me when I first saw the clearing.
Having seated himself at the round table he would work with coralline industry, and without a single break until six or seven in the evening. It was a standing joke against him in Dr. Burton's family that when at the club he was never at home to anybody except a certain Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers.
Prodgers, and good-naturedly gave her the benefit of his wisdom. To the London magistrates the good lady was a perpetual terror, and Frederick Burton, a diligent newspaper reader, took a pleasure in following her experiences. "St. George," he would call across the breakfast table, "Mrs. Giacometti Prodgers again: She's had another cab-man up."
One of them, whom I by no means thought the best, has given us a play, known to all the world, which I am almost ready to think with Zola is the greatest play of modern times; or if it is not so, I should be puzzled to name the modern drama that surpasses "La Morte Civile" of Paolo Giacometti.
"I did a paper on Alberto Giacometti." "My God," George said, "Bowdoin? They let you out of the Impressionists?" "Oh, yes," Jennifer said. "Giacometti was very good. Cute, too." "I knew it," Mark said. "Cute." "How about some turkey?" Oliver suggested. Bringing the pies turned out to be a good idea; they disappeared quickly. Sam presented Jennifer with a pint on the house.
A contemporary Italian, whom I like hardly less than these noble Spaniards, is Giovanni Verga, who wrote 'I Malavoglia, or, as we call it in English, 'The House by the Medlar Tree': a story of infinite beauty, tenderness and truth. As I have said before, I think with Zola that Giacometti, the Italian author of "La Morte Civile," has written almost the greatest play, all round, of modern times.
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