Zibaldone

by Leopardi, Giacomo

  I observe (and here I have more than just one example in mind) that young people who are neither poor nor oppressed nor humbled by poverty, who are healthy and robust in body, courageous, active, [3275] capable of providing for their own needs themselves, and who have few or no needs or little or no want of the help or physical or moral actions of others, or at least not on a regular basis; who have not yet been touched by misfortune, or rather (for what man has been born who has not already suffered?) who have been touched by it in such a way that, because of the vigor of their age and complexion and because of the freshness of their strength of mind, are able to shake it off, and take little notice of it; young people such as this, I say, although on the one hand intolerant of even the slightest offense, and also inclined to anger; inclined and accustomed to make fun of those present and absent even more than others are; overbearing rather than not, both in words and in deeds;—see p. 3282, p. 39421—and on the other, despite being abandoned by all, and possibly even by those same people who ought to have the most sacred duty of caring for them, despite being experienced in the ingratitude of men and despite having been made aware through experience of the uselessness, lack of kindness, and even of the harm that can often come from seeking to do good; despite being quick and perspicacious of intellect and not ignorant of the world, and well aware of how distant the custom of man is from extending charity and feeling compassion, and how far [3276] their opinions depart from this too, and how far men generally are unworthy of having others take care of them; despite all this, these people are very quick to feel compassion, very willing to come to the aid of others in their ills, inclined to be beneficent toward, to expend their efforts on behalf of, whoever asks them to even if they are unworthy of it, even to proffer it spontaneously, breaking down their reluctance to accept it, and aware of their reluctance to ask for it; equipped without reservation and without ceremony to meet the needs of and to procure benefit for their friends, indeed they are almost continuously engaged on behalf of others, more so than on behalf of themselves; most times in small but still tiring, boring, difficult offices and services, the multitude of which, if nothing else, compensates for the insignificance of each of them; and sometimes also in great or notable things which require great and notable care, effort, and even sacrifice. And in doing this, they attach no great value to their services, either in relation to themselves or to those who receive the benefit or to others, nor do they set great store by it or deem it to be of great merit (as though they were blinded and made mad by Jupiter, as Homer says of Glaucus, when he exchanged his golden weapons with those of Tydides which were of copper);1 furthermore, they demand little or no gratitude, almost as though they were bound to act charitably, [3277] or as though their sacrifice cost them nothing, they never believe themselves to be entitled to ask for benefit in return or to be compelled to do so, but do so rather with great restraint and without any claim, and even if they receive part of the benefit back, whether asked for or spontaneously, they consider themselves to be obliged toward the person who, having had the office provided in the first place, gave them such a meager reward in return.

  All or part of this, more or less, I have had occasion to note among young people of the quality described above, and not just in those who, because of their inexperience of the world, or through the kindness of nature, with fullness of heart, and in good faith and simplicity are swept toward virtue, generosity, and magnanimity, counting their greatest pleasure and desire in doing good and performing heroic deeds, and in denying and renouncing and sacrificing themselves, but also in those who are disillusioned by the world, and who find themselves in those circumstances which I noted above, or in some of them, or in others like them. All this, I repeat, I have noted occurring in these same young people while they enjoy and feel the benefit of their youth, health, and vigor, and are in a state of self-sufficiency. But with age, [3278] or even before age, with the occurrence of those problems, accidents, circumstances, those physical and moral disasters, either as a result of nature or fortune, which remove this state of self-sufficiency from them, which make them habitually or often in need of the efforts or help of others, which reduce or destroy in them the vigor of the body and with it, that of the mind; these people, as I have also had occasion to witness through experience, from having been merciful and charitable, gradually become, in proportion to the change in their circumstances alluded to, insensitive to the ills or needs or conveniences of others, and concerned only with their own, become closed to compassion, forgetful of charity, and changed entirely with regard to one and the other, and become quite the opposite in customs and disposition of mind. I have also seen this change occur not just gradually, but also rapidly and at times almost all in one go, and in the very flower of youth, to persons overcome by a sudden or rapid calamity of body or spirit or fortune, as a result of which their soul was laid low and prostrated immediately or within a very short space of time, or crushed and made infirm, and whose life was made subject to the trouble and sad necessity of having to rely on others for help, [3279] their health shaken and their bodies exhausted, and similar things contrary to their previous condition. In short, I have seen the immediate or rapid changes of circumstance noted above matched, with equal suddenness and rapidity, by changes in the character and custom of such persons with respect to feeling compassion, providing charity, or acting in some way on behalf of others.

  And those who by nature or for whatever reason, from childhood or early youth and their first entry to the world, are such as those described above have become, that is, weak in body and spirit, shy, irresolute, humiliated by poverty or any other cause, physical or moral, extrinsic or intrinsic, natural to them or accidental and casual; always or often in need of the efforts of others, accustomed to suffering from the outset, to faring unsuccessfully in their exploits or desires, and accordingly to always be mistrustful of things, life, and successes, and hence deprived of confidence in themselves; more familiar with fear or sad expectation than with hope; these persons, and those who resemble them in everything or in part, are to a greater or lesser degree, from the start of their lives or until their entry [3280] into society, alien to both the habits and acts of compassion and charity, and the inclination and disposition to these virtues; interested only in themselves, little or not at all capable of taking any interest in others, whether or not they are unfortunate or in need and deserving or undeserving of the help of others; and even less capable of acting on behalf of anyone at all; and, as a consequence, little or not at all suited to genuine, effective, and active friendships, but rather dissimulators of friendship with a view to obtaining from others the help or pity which they themselves require, and able to make it serve their own advantage alone; also simulators and dissimulators generally in all other things. And these qualities become characteristic in them, with the result that self-love in them is never anything other than egoism, and egoism is their chief characteristic; but truly not through any fault on their part, but rather out of necessity of nature; and not even by nature which by its own hand has placed this dreadful moral defect immediately in their minds more than in others, but because the circumstances in which they were found right from the beginning whether by nature or accident, [3281] give rise naturally and necessarily to this defect, perhaps more necessarily and inevitably and to a greater degree than any other cause does. See p. 3846.

  From which thoughts the following corollary may be added, that women, being by nature weaker in body and mind, and consequently more timid and needful of the actions of others than men are, are also generally and naturally less inclined than men to compassion and charity, in the same way that they are also, by universal consent, generally and as a rule less frank than men are, more inclined to lies and deceit, more prolific in terms of fraud, more dissembling, more insincere; all qualities which, along with many other similar ones (generally observed in women), derive from nature no more and no less than that referred to above, from weakness of mind and body and th
e insufficiency of a person’s own forces, own resources and self in relation to self. So it may be concluded that women generally speaking are more egoistic than men, or more inclined to egoism by nature (although social circumstances, which often reverse nature and sometimes make [3282] women, even before their character has been formed, masters of men, the objects of their spontaneous attentions, of their homages, supplications, etc. etc., can easily nullify this disposition), and naturally a higher number of egoistic women will be found than of egoistic men. In the same way it is clear that the most unhappy, tyrannical nations and ages, etc., were and are the most egoistic, etc. etc. (26–27 Aug. 1823.) See p. 3291, 3361.

  For p. 3275, margin —Indeed, the more people like this are brave, courageous, not timid in the presence of others or in conversation with others, blunt, open, free in their speech, ways and actions, and intolerant of dissimulation and lying (even to excess on occasions); the keener they are to avenge insults, haughty with those who offend or insult or scorn or harm them; the less soft and amenable they are with their enemies, the envious, their detractors, their slanderers, those who offend them and offensive people generally; and again, the more they incline to a certain overbearingness in words or actions toward someone who is neither to be pitied nor needy, whether they be friendly, neutral, or hostile; inclined or quick to anger, even lasting anger; the more merciful and charitable they are toward those who are friends or neutral (given the occasion and ability, etc., in the former and the need or utility, etc., in the latter) or to those who are hostile or offensive, once they have already been vanquished or punished or if they have asked for forgiveness or pardon or made amends for the offense, or if they have definitely fallen into serious misfortune or need and have been humbled, etc. (Julius Caesar was like this, as we see in Suetonius.)1 And the opposite is the case in men of the opposite quality: [3283] the opposite, I mean, with regard both to feeling compassion and extending charity to whomever, and to avenging or forgetting insults. Men who are timid, awkward in manner, weak in body and mind, etc., are of this opposite quality, as I described on pp. 3279–80. (27 Aug. 1823.)

  Confictito from confingo confictus [to fabricate] or from the simple fingo–fictus [to mould]. (27 Aug. 1823.)

  Fissare or fisare, ficcare, fixar, fixer, ficher, from figo–fixus [to fix]. Affissare or affisare, afficher from affigo [to fix, to attach]. Conficcare from configo [to join], etc. Possibly also fitto noun and affittare [to rent] come from none other than fictus, another participle of figo, taking its name from the public notice which people used to affiggere to their houses or on street corners in the city, etc., if they wanted to rent out their house or possessions or land, etc., which notice or notices publicly posted in French are called affiches and in colloquial Italian affissi. Although the prefix a in affittare appears to have been added deliberately to the noun fitto to express the idea of offering a fitto [for rent], like affermer in French which comes from ferme, and in colloquial Italian annolare [3284] from nolo. See if the Glossary has anything for all the above entries. (27 Aug. 1823.)

  About what I said [→Z 2688–91] regarding the anomalous participle arso which Perticari believes comes from arsare and not from ardere [to burn], which also exists in Latin, i.e., from ardeo, arsus; one may add that Italian (and also its sister languages) very often has different participles if Latin too has different participles for each verb, that is, the same ones which Latin has, whether they are regular or irregular as to the Latin or Italian analogy. E.g., figgere–fisso, fitto from figo–fixus–fictu. Sometimes it has what corresponds to the Italian analogy, along with that which the verb has in Latin, whether a regular or anomalous participle in Latin. Which I have spoken of elsewhere [→Z 2688]. Sometimes, etc. etc. (27 August 1823.)

  As may be seen on pp. 2774–77 and more broadly and distinctly under separate headings among the grammarians, Greek had the habit of altering its roots significantly, e.g., the stems of its verbs, even quite apart from instances of derivation and composition, and without altering their meaning in the slightest, [3285] merely the external form and parts of the word.a Hence they changed verbs ending in ω to verbs ending in μι; to the stems of others they added the letters αν, and made them end in ανω; to others they added αιν, and made them end in αινω; to others they added σκ, and made them end in σκω (though these were not always altered by the stem, but also by using a different tense of the verb: see the Grammarians);1 and in others they duplicated the initial consonant, interposing a vowel such as the iota (πιπράσκω [to sell]), etc. Often the ending was altered, changing it to ίζω, etc., without any change in meaning: νεμεσάω–νεμεσίζω [to disapprove of], βάπτω–βαπτίζω [to dip], etc. etc. From ὂφλω or from ὀφείλω [to owe], ὀφλισκάνω [to incur a debt], a double alteration. Of these verbs and stems altered formally in this way but with no alteration in meaning, some remained like that, with the original, uncorrupt stem or verb falling out of use, others continued to be used alongside them, others along with other verbs formed from the same stem by similar alterations, etc. etc. Some were complete, others defective and replaced by the original verb in various forms, anomalous, regular, etc. etc., on which see the Grammarians. These alterations to the original verbs and stems (and hence other roots), alterations which are completely different, distinct, and independent from derivation and composition, which also take place in other languages and which in no way affected or modified the meaning (as derivation and composition affect and modify meaning, or at least are accustomed to do for the most part and regularly), were certainly not [3286] random or rare occurrences in Greek, beyond rule, custom, and order as though they were anomalies or aberrations inappropriate to the language, but were extremely common, ordinary, customary, habitual, and regular, or formed by rule, as shown by the high number of stems and verbs found to be altered in one or other of the ways mentioned above and others that could be mentioned; hence grammarians distinguish this type of entirely formal change and alteration into many different kinds, bringing together a large number of verbs or stems under each of them, all of which have been changed from their original forms in the same way. This kind of alteration, this method of altering lexical items independent of, and entirely different from derivation and composition, without any accompanying changes or alterations to their meaning, is not found at all in Latin, or at least is certainly not found as a custom or rule, and nothing like so often, or in so varied a manner, etc. Thus, here too we have an explanation as to why it is more difficult in Greek than in Latin to trace the origins, or ancient forms, the primitive or ancient state of words and language and [3287] grammar, roots, etymologies, etc. Especially if it is considered that such extremely formal alteration is not made in just one or two but a whole host of different ways, all of which are very common and frequent; that many verbs or words thus altered have banished into disuse those that were not, etc.; that many of the verbs altered in this way, given that the primitive forms have been lost, will naturally be taken by us as the original form, and mistaken for roots, whereas really they are nothing more than variants, more or less distant, mediated or unmediated, greater or lesser, etc.

  Greek also uses some derivations of lexical items, e.g., verbs, which change none of their meaning, and this is no anomaly or anything out of the ordinary, as would be the case in Latin, but normal and regular. I refer, e.g., to that Syracusan manner of creating a new verb from the perfect form of the stem, such as τεϑνήκω out of τέϑνηκα from the verb ϑνάω, or ἑστήκω out of ἕστηκα from the verb στάω,1 or πεφύκω out of πέφυκα from φύω [to be] (this manner, with verbs created in this way, is used mostly by the poets, but also by Greek prose writers in general), and to that other Greek manner of creating a new verb from the first future of a stem by adding κ to it, for instance, from τρώω (unattested) τρώσω, τρώσκω unattested, from which τίτρωσκω [to generate]. (See the Grammarians, however, as to whether this manner is cor
rect, or if it is not rather the case that τρώσκω [to pierce], e.g., is constructed from the stem itself, i.e., τρώω [to wound], with σκ interposed, as ἵζω, ἱζάνω [to cause to sit], with [3288] the αv interposed, etc. etc.) These and many other similar derivations with no change of meaning—which for this reason have contributed greatly to the loss and destruction of the original words and help conceal them, make it difficult to investigate them, confuse the scholar, and divide the grammarians into a hundred different systems and opinions, both regarding the more or less general rules, and specific etymologies, etc. etc.—have no place in the Latin language, or certainly much less so by far, etc. etc. (27 Aug. 1823.)

  Ajouter [to add] is almost like adiunctare [to join to], aggiuntare [to join together], in Spanish juntar [to join]. Our verb giuntare [to join together] is also from iungere [to join]. See if the Crusca under Giugnere [to arrive at, to reach], § 7, and the Glossary, under iunctare, adiunctare, etc., have anything. (28 August 1823.)

  Succenseo [to be angry] is a verb which in my view must be formed from the participle ending in -us of another verb, that is, succendo [to set on fire from below]. (See also Forcellini under Censeo [to estimate], end.) But apart from the fact that this is not first conjugation, not only is it not continuative in terms of meaning, it is also neuter, whereas succendo is active. So it has nothing whatsoever to do with our theory, apart from the fact that it is worth noting as formed from a passive participle. [3289] I do not for the moment recall any other example of this formation, apart from the continuative and frequentative forms I have been collecting. (28 Aug. 1823.)