Casanova Gatopardiano

"Bastante rico, dotado por la naturaleza de un físico imponente, jugador decidido, manirroto, gran hablador siempre mordaz,  nada modesto, intrépido, mujeriego impenitente, dispuesto a suplantar a los rivales y aficionado únicamente a la compañia que me divertia, solo podia ser odiado. Siempre presto a dar la cara, creía que todo me estaba permitido, pues el abuso que me irritaba me parecía hecho para ser atropellado" 

Historia de mi vida, Giacomo Casanova

En honor de Gatopardo, quien parece haber encontrado por fin su sitio en este pequeño mundo.

Duff Cooper on wine and class

"I have already made mention of the happiness I have derived throughout my life from literature, and I should here, perhaps, acknowledge the consolation I have never failed to find in the fermented juice of the grape. Writing in my sixty-fourth year, I can truthfully say that since I reached the age of discretion I have consistently drunk more than most people would say was good for me. Nor do I regret it. Wine has been to me a firm friend and a wise counsellor. Often, as on the occasion just related, wine has shown me matters in their true perspective, and has, as though by the touch of a magic wand, reduced great disasters to small inconveniences. Wine has lit up for me the pages of literature, and revealed in life romance lurking in the commonplace. Wine has made me bold but not foolish; has induced me to say silly things but not to do them. Under its influence words have often come too easily which had better not have been spoken, and letters have been written which had better not have been sent. But if such small indiscretions standing in the debit column of wine's account were added up, they would amount to nothing in comparison with the vast accumulation on the credit side. 

I am proud that Belloc's great poem on wine should have been dedicated to me. I transcribe the first lines: 

To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend, 

To welcome home mankind's mysterious friend: 

Wine, true begetter of all arts that be; 

Wine, privilege of the completely free; 

Wine the recorder; Wine the sagely strong; 

Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong 

Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song! 

This mysterious friend has proved a very loyal one to me, and to all those, I believe, who do not abuse friendship and who learn by experience that even between friends excessive and coarse familiarity cannot be permitted. Nor would I be thought, while paying the homage that I owe to wine, to exclude from their share of it those who, if they cannot aspire to the high dignity of friendship, do at least deserve the deep gratitude that is owed to trustworthy and faithful servants. I refer to beer and spirits, which belong to a different class from that of wine but are not upon that account to be less loved and honoured. 

Class is a word that in this age stirs passions and provokes people to talk nonsense. There are even those who would, if they could, create a classless society. If such a society were possible it would be as useless as a rankless army and as dull as a wine-list that gave neither the names of the vineyards nor the dates of the vintages. Class is an inevitable adjunct of human nature. The aim of the law giver should be to render the relations between classes happy and to facilitate the passage from one class to another. When class, which is natural, degenerates into caste, which is against nature, it becomes an evil."

Old men forget - Duff Cooper (1954).

Si volviese a nacer

Si volviese a nacer me compraría un barquito de vela y me dejaría barba, saldría a última hora de la tarde a navegar en solitario, cuando los barcos de motor ya están volviendo a puerto;

Si volviese a nacer estudiaría historia, me haría profesor y escribiría sobre la rueda de la fortuna, llevaría gafas y pajarita y me movería en un escarabajo del 78;

Si volviese a nacer me iría a vivir al campo, intentaría ser un agricultor, labraría mis propias tierras, tendría mi propia huerta y viviría del trabajo de mis propias manos;

Si volviese a nacer me haría escritor, un escritor maldito, escribiría sobre la parte mas inhumana del hombre, sobre esa parte animal en la que no hay leyes ni normas;

Si volviese a nacer me haría cazador blanco y me iría a vivir a África, a un sitio remoto, sin ninguna comunicación con el resto del mundo, mi vida serían los leones y las noches pobladas de estrellas;

Si volviese a nacer me convertiría en un yuppi, trabajaría en Nueva York en el último piso de un rascacielos vendiendo bonos basura y me convertiría en un amo del universo;

Si volviese a nacer me haría Cartujo con treinta años, después de una vida de excesos, mi vida sería el silencio y la reflexión;

Si volviese a nacer me construiría una torre como Montaigne, en las vigas escribiría mis 42 principios, el último de ellos sería “Haz lo que puedas”, estudiaría a todos los autores desde los clásicos hasta los contemporáneos, escribiría unos ensayos y los quemaría antes de publicarlos;

Si volviese a nacer, me aceptaría a mi mismo, me acercaría a tu casa y te invitaría a cenar, luego nos tomaríamos una copa y te diría todas estas bobadas al oído mientras te desnudo y nos buscamos a nosotros mismos