The Resurgence of the Fan



Nancy with parasol at Colosseum

 We went to Europe this summer, and one of our stops was Italy.  I adore Europe and have visited a dozen times, but they don't do air conditioning the way we Americans are used to air conditioning.  I know we're spoiled.  I admit it.  And actually, much of the time we weren't inside, but outside.  Walking around Rome or Venice or Florence in 103-degree heat made us melt like gelato on the pavement. 



I don't do heat.  My favorite temperature is 60--with clouds (I should live in Seattle.)  Other than searching for a breeze, or hunting out shade, I discovered two things that saved me.  A parasol and a fan.  Fantastico!

 

Honestly, I cannot imagine walking around any American city with either, but in Europe I didn't feel foolish at all.  And strolling through Rome's Forum, or waiting to ascend the Eiffel Tower, they helped me survive the heat. 

Woman with Parasol by Renoir



It made me wonder why we've abandoned the parasol and fan.  The parasol probably went by the wayside because we now embrace having a tan.  But a hundred years ago, having porcelain skin revealed breeding.  Only people who worked for a living had tanned skin.  So I'll surrender the parasol--even though I don't do tans either.



But... the fan... 

 

Lady with a Fan by Aviat



Being a woman of a certain age, who goes through her own personal heat waves, I've started using one of two pretty fans I bought in Florence and at Ford's Theatre in Washington D.C.  Yes, I receive a few odd looks, but I don't mind. It's far more elegant than fanning my flash with a menu or page of coupons.

In my research, I learned there was a Language of the Fan, where women could say secret things to the men in their lives by the flip of their fan.  Fanning with the right hand in front of your face meant "Follow me." Fanning with your left hand meant, "Don't flirt with that woman." Slowly fanning yourself meant, "Don't waste your time, I don't care about you."  While quickly fanning yourself meant, "I love you so much." 

Lady with a Fan by James Tissot

Yikes, would I be in big trouble!  Because I tend to fan with both hands (as one hand gives out) and at different speeds depending on the outer--and my inner--thermometer.  Any man who was trying to understand my fan-language would run in the other direction--with good cause. No wonder men complain that they can't understand women.

Which leads to a bigger question:  did men really understand this special, intricate language?  Not to disparage the other sex, but I've noticed that most men I know don't pay attention to what a woman is wearing, if their hair is worn up or down, or even if they wear glasses, much less notice whether the woman runs her fingers over the fan's ribs (meaning "I want to talk to you") or carries the fan closed with the left hand (meaning "I'm engaged.")  Sorry, but it ain't going to happen.  


Lady with a Fan by Mary Cassatt



Either men have changed drastically over the centuries, or the whole Language of the Fan is something women created and talked about amongst their friends, while the men never caught on.  Or if a rare one did . . . I bet he was very popular.

  

Also, there's the secrecy thing... why did they feel the need to be secret?  For instance, if you wanted to say goodbye to some man, why not go up to him and say goodbye, or even wave from across the room.  But saying goodbye in fan-speak, by placing the fan behind your head with a finger extended . . .  Goodness sakes. 

Besides, if every lady in the room knew the language, there wasn't much secrecy in it.  Imagine a room full of women all gesturing with their fans.  It would be like an opera when everyone sings their own line at the same time. Or the sideline of a football game, when the coaches are all gesturing frantically to get their play in.  Ha.  Women with fans were certainly getting their play in!

There is one message I could use on occasion: passing the fan from hand to hand means, "I see that you are looking at another woman."  But I've found that clearing the throat, or an elbow in the ribs works just as well.

For cooling purposes, and even as a fashion accessory, I'm all for the resurgence of the fan.  But for everyone's sake, let the language die.//Nancy

Dead and Buried

Sometimes when visiting Europe’s cathedrals and churches, they begin to blur together. St. Peter’s in Rome is one that always stands out, and another is Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. And in this last case, it’s not as much due to the architecture (which is lovely) as much as for the graves and tombs it holds.

For one thing, there are some pretty important people-of-history buried inside: Michelangelo, Galileo, Rossini are buried there (to name but three.) An artist, a scientist, and a composer. The years of their deaths span centuries, Michelangelo in 1564, Galileo in 1642 & 1737 (more on this later), and Rossini in 1868. Because so many famous Italians are buried here, the church has been known as the Temple of the Italian Glories, for these men certainly brought glory to their country.  We still celebrate and marvel at their achievements.

Michelangelo's tomb

Michelangelo was the brilliant sculptor (the David), painter (the Sistine Chapel), and architect (the dome of St. Peter’s in Rome.) Irascible and driven—and pushed beyond his limit by various Popes—when Michelangelo died in Rome, his body was taken to his beloved Tuscany, to Florence, to Santa Croce for burial. Michelangelo was the Renaissance, so being buried in Florence, the birthplace of Renaissance, was very appropriate. The three figures on his tomb represent his talents: artist, sculptor, and architect.


Galileo's tomb

 Galileo, a talented mathematician and astronomer, pursued the notion that the earth rotated around the sun, but he added a layer.  He insisted that such an idea did not contradict the Bible.  The scientific idea was not new, but the church objected to him stepping out of bounds--acting as theologian in addition to scientist.  It's said he was excommunicated for heresy, but others say it was more of a censure, a cease-and-desist to stop him talking as if what he said was a solid truth. A few years later (1632) Galileo wrote a book that caused his real trouble.  For in it he told both sides, but in doing so, made the pope look like a fool.  Not a wise thing to do.  People were executed for less.  He was allowed to live, yet was under house arrest until he died in 1642. This earth/sun issue was such a hot button, that Galileo was not allowed a Christian burial until 1737.  It’s interesting to note that his tomb has a relief of the solar system—with the sun in the center. It wasn’t until 1992 that the pope apologized for the church's treatment of Galileo.

The last tomb to mention... even if you don’t know Gioacchino Rossini by name, I bet you’d recognize his music. He wrote 39 operas. The "William Tell Overture" is the theme music to the 1950’s TV show, “The Lone Ranger”, and there was a Bugs Bunny cartoon featuring Rossini’s "Barber of Seville". Surely the composer would turn over in his grave. He was originally buried in Paris, but at the request of the Italian government, his remains were moved to Santa Croce in 1887—nineteen years after his death. Florence wanted to lay claim to this “Italian Mozart.”

Beyond these grand tombs (and there are many more), I was most moved by the gravestones on the floor, grave after grave that we walked upon. Most were worn from the tens of thousands who have visited the church over the centuries. I mentioned to our guide that it felt wrong walking on them, but she said that being walked on, having their graves worn by the masses, was considered part of their penance. Don’t tread on me!

But the most intriguing graves held the outline of a person, etched in stone. These graves told an enormous story. For some of the graves had the head at the altar end, with the feet pointing toward the front door. And some were placed in the opposite way. There was an explanation for that. People who were godly had their feet at the altar end, so when Jesus Christ comes to earth again in glory (apparently through the front door) and the godly rise from their graves (as the Bible says), they will be standing with Him, as his children. People who weren’t on good terms with the church had their head near the altar so when they rise at the Second Coming, they will face Jesus for judgment. Whoa. It appears they’ve already been judged by man! My question is, if they were so bad, or not “in” the church, why were they allowed to be buried there in the first place?

One other tidbit I found interesting. The walls of the Santa Croce used to be vividly painted with depictions of Bible stories so the priests could teach the illiterate poor the stories. But in Renaissance times, the priests didn’t like that old style of painting so white-washed it over. Sigh. Every age thinks newer is better.

The point is, the dead do tell tales.  Very interesting ones./Nancy