Reading check-in, day twelve: notes on Appreciating Masterpieces of Foreign Prose — “Four Travel Pieces: Sweet Umbria”
Karel Čapek’s Umbria slowly unfolds before us like a painted scroll. The first thing that comes into view is the deep blue sky. The sky, too, casts a veil over the mountains, rivers, and fields. The people who live here seem to have given themselves over to the embrace of the landscape. The gods nurture them with kindness. They are like children of the gods: the gods give the children places to play, and also places of silence. There are hills as well, whose grandeur and splendor leave people deeply subdued.
Then the author’s lens turns toward the city of Assisi. Blue Assisi is as tranquil as heaven. Scene after scene of life comes toward us, as though we have returned to the fourteenth century. Sunlight bathes the whole city, and everyone within it is nourished. Arriving in Perugia, sky and earth merge into one, while vision and city interweave. Seeing such a scene, would you think of your hometown? I keep walking forward, and Francesco, with his trace of sorrow, feels especially dear to me. The woman in the painting is so beautiful.