The Timeless Rhythms of the Heavens

A European (skull) mount of a buck,
 recalling the Buck Moon and the
ancient symbolism of renewal

Udremo a notte le sue lunghe muggia, udremo la voce sua di toro;
sorgerà il grido della sua lussuria
udremo nei silenzi della luna.

At night we will hear his long bellows, we will hear his voice like a bull’s;
the cry of his lust will rise;
we will hear it in the silences of the moon.
~ Gabriele D’Annunzio, Il Cervo

July has always seemed to me the most haunted month of summer. The sun still reigns over the earth by day, but the nights grow deeper and more mysterious, as though the heavens themselves were preparing for autumn’s long descent into darkness.

The month has already offered several quiet spectacles. On July 11th, Mars appeared beside the waning Moon and the ancient stars of the Pleiades in the predawn sky, an austere conjunction that recalled the firmament's timeless order. A few evenings later, on July 16th and 17th, brilliant Venus drew close to the slender crescent Moon in the western sky, creating one of the month’s most beautiful pairings before slipping back into the gathering darkness.

Yet some of July’s greatest mysteries still lie ahead.

Between the nights of July 28th and 30th, the Southern Delta Aquariid meteor shower will send ghostly streaks of light across the southern sky. Less brilliant than the famous Perseids, these meteors possess a gentler beauty, appearing like silent embers cast from some unseen celestial fire.

Then, on the night of July 29th, the full Buck Moon will rise.

Named for the season when the stag regrows his antlers, the Buck Moon has long been associated with strength, renewal, and the untamed wilderness. Other traditions know it as the Thunder Moon, the Hay Moon, or the Mead Moon, preserving memories of storms, harvests, and ancient midsummer feasts.

For Christians, the symbolism runs even deeper. The moon has long represented the Blessed Virgin Mary, reflecting not her own light but that of her Divine Son. The stag likewise recalls Christ, who tramples the serpent beneath His feet and leads the faithful toward the sacred waters of eternal life. The annual shedding and renewal of the stag’s antlers has long served as an allegory of resurrection and new life.

As the month draws toward its close, keep watch upon the night sky. Watch for the silent fall of meteors, and when the Buck Moon rises above the horizon, remember the poets who found voices in its silence.

Luna d’argiento, lass’ ’o sunnà,
vaselo ’nfronte, nun ’o sceta…

Silver moon, let him dream,
kiss his brow, do not wake him…
~ Salvatore Di Giacomo, Luna Nova

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

Remembering Her Imperial and Royal Highness Luisa Maria, Grand Duchess of Tuscany and Archduchess of Austria

Photo courtesy of the Grand
Ducal House of Tuscany

Today, we commemorate the birthday of Her Imperial and Royal Highness Luisa Maria, Grand Duchess of Tuscany and Archduchess of Austria. Born a Princess of Naples and Sicily on 27 July 1773, she was the daughter of King Ferdinand IV of Naples and III of Sicily (later Ferdinand I of the Two Sicilies) and Queen Maria Carolina of Austria. Through her marriage to Ferdinand III, Grand Duke of Tuscany, she became Grand Duchess of Tuscany and Archduchess of Austria. As consort during the upheavals of the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic era, and as the mother of the future Leopold II, Grand Duke of Tuscany, she holds an enduring place in the history of the Grand Ducal House of Tuscany.

On this anniversary of her birth, let us remember Her Imperial and Royal Highness with gratitude and pray for the repose of her soul.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Photo of the Week: Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, Playing a Lyre, Vatican Museums

Marble sculpture of Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, playing a lyre,
1st century A.D., Vatican Museums. Photo by New York Scugnizzo

New Book — The Neapolitan Enlightenment: Science, Medicine, and the Exchange of Knowledge

A forthcoming title that may be of interest to our readers. Available at Amazon.com

• The Neapolitan Enlightenment: Science, Medicine, and the Exchange of Knowledge by Donato Verardi

Publisher: Anthem Press
Pub. Date: November 3, 2026
Hardcover: $110.00
Language: English
Pages: 250

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New Kindle Edition — The Two Sicilies in the Americas

A new title that may be of interest to our readers. Available at Amazon.com

• The Two Sicilies in the Americas by Lucio Militano

Publisher: Editoriale il Giglio
Pub. Date: July 14, 2026
Kindle: $6.00
Language: English
File size: 5.2 MB

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Requiem Mass at the Pontifical Shrine of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in East Harlem, New York

Andrés Segovia and the Mediterranean Soul

Andrés Segovia (1893-1987)

A recent conversation about classical guitar led me back to Andrés Segovia. The discussion began with music, but it soon wandered elsewhere. The more I thought about Segovia, the more he seemed to embody something larger than Spain alone.

Born in Andalusia, Andrés Segovia was formed by a Mediterranean civilization shaped over millennia—a world forged by Rome, Catholicism, regional memory, and the enduring belief that beauty possesses moral and civilizing power. Southern Spain and Southern Italy shared centuries of intertwined history. Even their musical traditions developed with striking similarities: lyrical melancholy, devotional piety, folk memory, and a profound attachment to locality.

Segovia understood the guitar not as a fashionable instrument, but as something noble and worthy of the highest artistic tradition. Before him, the guitar was still widely regarded as popular or folkloric. Through discipline and mastery, he elevated the guitar to unprecedented prominence in the concert hall and transformed it into a vehicle for serious art. In this sense, his work recalls the older southern Italian efforts to preserve inherited forms against the flattening pressures of modernity.

Southern Italy possessed its own rich tradition of plucked-string music: the mandolins of Naples, the chitarra battente of Calabria, and the legacy of great composers such as Mauro Giuliani and Ferdinando Carulli. Like Giuliani and Carulli, Segovia treated the instrument with reverence rather than novelty, seeking depth, restraint, and spiritual seriousness over spectacle.

Listening to Segovia today, one hears more than technical mastery. One hears the lingering voice of an older Mediterranean world, whose ideals of beauty, discipline, and reverence have not entirely vanished. For that reason, Segovia belongs not only to Spain, but to the enduring Mediterranean soul.

~ By Giovanni Di Napoli, July 24th, Feasts of the Blessed Martyrs of Daimiel, the Blessed Carmelite Martyrs of Guadalajara, Blessed Maria Mercedes, and Blessed Xavier Bordas

Graziella

Graziella, 1879, Jules-Joseph Lefebvre

Graziella gave her heart to a young stranger from a distant land.
While mending her grandfather’s net beneath the shadow of Vesuvius,
Their love blossomed beside the sea.
Yet fate proved stronger than youthful devotion,
And the day came when her beloved was compelled to depart.
Left alone upon the shore, she waited in hope and sorrow,
Her gaze fixed upon the horizon that would never return him.
At last, hope yielded to grief,
And she withered like a flower upon the Siren’s Bay

New Book — Kingdom of the Two Sicilies: When the Sicilies Were Two

A new title that may be of interest to our readers. Available at Amazon.com

• Kingdom of the Two Sicilies: When the Sicilies Were Two by Antonio Garrisi

Publisher: Independently published
Pub. Date: February 21, 2025
Hardcover: $28.00
Softcover: $18.00
Kindle: $3.00
Language: English
Pages: 118

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Celebrating the Feast of Santa Maria Maddalena

Santa Maria Maddalena, ora pro nobis

On Wednesday evening, a few close friends and I celebrated the Feast of Santa Maria Maddalena. We began, as every Christian feast should, at Holy Mass before gathering afterward for dinner at a small Spanish restaurant.

For many, Santa Maria Maddalena is best remembered for her conversion and unwavering devotion to Christ. For me, she is one of my personal patrons, reminding me that no past is beyond God’s mercy and that even the most wayward soul may be transformed through prayer, penance, and grace.

The evening itself was simple, filled with good food, good wine, and the company of dear friends. While far removed from her ascetic life, it was nevertheless an opportunity to honor our glorious patroness, to reflect upon her example, and to give thanks for the grace that continually calls each of us to conversion. Evviva Santa Maria Maddalena!

~ BY Giovanni di Napoli, July 23rd, Feasts of St. Apollinaris and St. Liborius

Pulpo a Féira

Chorizos Al Infierno

Arroz Caldoso

The Ghosts That Remain

Pessoa drinking wine in a tavern, 1929

“What we see is not what we see, but what we are.” ~ Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

Fernando Pessoa once viewed the world from the western edge of Europe through the lens of saudade, the uniquely Portuguese longing for what has been lost or can never fully be regained. Although his reflections were deeply personal rather than historical, they resonate in lands where successive civilizations have left their mark.

In this, I find an unexpected kinship with Southern Italy.

The Mezzogiorno is a land where history is never entirely past. The temples of Magna Graecia, Roman roads, Byzantine churches, Norman towers, Aragonese castles, and Bourbon palaces remind us that political power fades, while civilizations leave behind something more enduring than kingdoms. One does not merely study history there; one walks through it.

Perhaps this is why I find Pessoa’s reflections so compelling. Both Portugal and Southern Italy know what it means to inherit greatness. Their storied landscapes are inhabited not only by monuments, but by the ghosts of the civilizations that created them. Those ghosts still speak to anyone willing to listen.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 23rd, Feasts of Saints Apollinaris and Liborius

Why I Won’t Be Reviewing The Odyssey (2026)

Ulysses deriding Polyphemus, 1829, J.M.W. Turner

Several friends were genuinely surprised when I told them I had absolutely no interest in seeing Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey (2026). Given my lifelong love of mythology, fantasy, and science fiction, they assumed it would be at the top of my list. In a saner age, they would probably be right.

Unfortunately, we no longer live in that world. We live in a cultural landscape that gave us The Rings of Power, where beloved myths are routinely stripped of their spirit and rebuilt according to modern ideological fashions. I have too much love and respect for Homer to spend my time or money on what appears to be another exercise in the same destructive impulse.

The casting choices and costume design were enough to make me skeptical from the beginning. However, reports that the film embraces modern dialogue and contemporary political framing removed any lingering curiosity. I do not need to see it to know it is not the Odyssey I want.

What surprised me most is how much faith people place in Christopher Nolan. Apparently, his name alone is enough to draw audiences into theaters. I confess I do not understand the reverence. Of his thirteen feature films, I have only seen Dunkirk (2017) and the Dark Knight trilogy. None left much of an impression on me. I considered watching Oppenheimer (2023), but never got around to it, and I remain in no hurry.

I also have no interest in participating in the endless online culture war surrounding this film.

I’d rather revisit films that still understand wonder without apology: The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958), The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1973), Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), Clash of the Titans (1981), Excalibur (1981), and Conan the Barbarian (1982). Those films remain magical because they approached myth with reverence, imagination, and sincerity. They invited audiences into legendary worlds rather than dragging those worlds into the fashions and preoccupations of the present.

As for new releases, the only films I am genuinely looking forward to this year are I Play Rocky (2026), Godzilla Minus Zero (2026), and Robert Eggers’ Werwulf (2026).

There will be no review of Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey here. Some films are simply not worth three hours of my life.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 22nd, Feast Day of Santa Maria Maddalena

Greetings from the Gates of Hell

A friend recently sent me a photograph of Auguste Rodin’s The Gates of Hell at the Musée Rodin in Paris. While celebrating her birthday abroad, knowing how much I admire Rodin, she paused and sent it to me with the simple message, “Wish you were here.”

For a brief moment, I wondered whether she meant Paris or the Gates of Hell.

The Wilderness Within

The Penitent Magdalen, ca. 1640,
by Georges de la Tour (1593-1652)

Beáta Maríæ Magdaléna, quǽsumus, Dómine, suffrágiis adjuvémur: cujus précibus exorátus, quatriduánum fratrem Lázarum vivum ab inferis resuscitásti: Qui vivis et regnas, cum Deo Patre in unitáte Spíritus Sancti, Deus, per ómnia sǽcula sæculórum.*

Since my reversion, few saints have remained as constant a companion as Santa Maria Maddalena. Whenever I think of her, I am reminded that every Christian must one day pass through a wilderness of his own.

It is not only her unwavering love for Christ that draws me to her, but what she has come to symbolize: the quiet work of God’s grace in the soul. In her, we are reminded that true transformation is born not of noise, distraction, or ceaseless activity, but of silence, prayer, and fidelity to God.

Her wilderness was more than a refuge; it was an inner desert. There, stripped of vanity and distraction, we encounter ourselves as we truly are. The interior life is not an escape from the world, but a place where we are quietly prepared to return to it rightly ordered.

Ernst Jünger wrote of the “forest passage” as an inward withdrawal from the pressures to conform in modern society. Christianity has long known a far older passage. There, freedom is found not merely in resisting the spirit of the age, but in surrendering oneself to the transforming power of God’s grace.

In a world that prizes constant motion and endless distraction, the Maddalena remains a quiet rebuke. She reminds us that the deepest battles are fought in the hidden places of the heart, and that the wilderness within is where the soul is gradually conformed to Christ.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 21st, Feast Day of San Lorenzo of Brindisi

* May we be assisted, O Lord, we beseech Thee, by the intercession of blessed Mary Magdalen, for whom, moved by her prayers, Thou didst bring back her brother Lazarus, then dead for four days, alive from the grave. Who livest and reignest with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. Amen.

The Southern Italian Origins of the Vita Eremitica

The Ascension of Mary Magdalene, by
Tilman Riemenschneider (1460–1531)

Among the many traditions surrounding St. Mary Magdalene, few are as intriguing as her vita eremitica, the belief that she spent the final years of her life as a hermit devoted to prayer, fasting, and contemplation.

Although the New Testament says nothing about her life after the Resurrection, an anonymous medieval work known as the Vita eremitica Beatae Mariae Magdalenae profoundly shaped the image of the Magdalene as one of Christianity’s great contemplatives. Modern scholars believe this text was composed in the early ninth century in the monasteries of Southern Italy, where Greek and Latin monastic traditions converged in a remarkable synthesis that left an enduring mark on medieval Christian culture. Drawing heavily upon the Life of St. Mary of Egypt, it presents Mary Magdalene not simply as the first witness of the Resurrection, but as a woman transformed through solitude, asceticism, and union with the Godhead.

Its influence was immense. Many of its themes were later reflected in Jacobus de Voragine’s Golden Legend, while its portrayal of Mary Magdalene as the long-haired penitent who retreated to the wilds of Provence inspired generations of medieval and Renaissance artists.

As the legend spread across medieval Europe, it took on new forms. In Provence, Mary Magdalene came to be associated with the cave of Sainte-Baume, where she was believed to have lived as a hermit. In the Italian Alps, she appears in folklore as the Magdalena Selvadega, the “Wild Magdalene.” Naked, clothed only by her long hair, and living apart from society, she became a mysterious figure of forests and mountains, preserving echoes of the vita eremitica while absorbing elements of local folklore.

Devotion to Mary Magdalene found renewed favor in Southern Italy under the Angevin dynasty, whose close ties to Provence, one of the principal centers of her medieval cult, helped foster devotion to the saint throughout the Kingdom of Naples. Thus, a tradition first shaped in the monasteries of the Mezzogiorno continued to flourish under Angevin patronage, reinforcing the dynasty’s prestige and legitimacy.

Though far removed from the biblical narrative, these traditions testify to the enduring fascination with Mary Magdalene as the saint who left the world behind in search of God. They also illustrate that one of the most influential chapters in her medieval legend was first written in Southern Italy, long a crossroads of the Byzantine East and Latin West.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 15th, Feast of Santa Rosalia

Happy Birthday S.A.R. Don Sixto Enrique de Borbon

July 22, Birthday of S.A.R. Don Sixto Enrique de Borbon and Bourbon Busset (Pau, 1940), Duke of Aranjuez, Standard Bearer of Tradition.

Born on his mother's name day, Doña Magdalena de Borbón Busset (+1984), Duchess of Parma, last legitimate Queen of Spain.

Depicted in the image next to his august father and predecessor, S.M.C. Don Javier I (+1977).

In Memoriam: Burro

 A chess set, brought back from Naples by my dear friend Burro. More than
a souvenir, it remains a cherished reminder of a friendship that helped
shape my life. Every game recalls a brother now greatly missed

Today I remember my dear friend, Burro, who was more like a brother than a friend. Though fifteen years have passed, I still find myself recalling the countless adventures, misadventures, and unforgettable moments we shared. We laughed often, explored widely, and accumulated enough stories for several lifetimes.

Above all, Burro was a devoted husband and loving father to a son and a daughter, whom he cherished beyond measure. That is the legacy that mattered most to him.

In many ways, this blog exists because of the conversations we had, the places we went, and the memories we made together. His friendship helped shape the person I became, and his absence has never truly left me.

Requiescat in pace, my brother. Every time I set those chess pieces upon the board, I think of you. You are remembered, deeply missed, and never forgotten.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 20th, Feasts of Santa Margherita di Antiochia and Sant’Elia

New Music — Alessandro Scarlatti: Cantate Da Camera Vol. 2

New music that may be of interest to our readers.

• Alessandro Scarlatti: Cantate Da Camera Vol. 2, performed by Emmanuelle De Negri and Philippe Grisvard

Label: Audax
Release Date: June 2, 2026
Audio CD: $22.01
Number of Discs: 1

Available at Amazon.com

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Ninth Sunday After Pentecost at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Jersey City, New Jersey

La Furia Roja: A Worthy Champion

Congratulations to Spain on a well-deserved 1-0 victory over Argentina in the World Cup Final.

As a Napoli club-over-country supporter, and with Italy shamefully absent from the tournament anyway, I came into this match as a genuine neutral. With a soft spot for both teams, I had no preference as to who lifted the trophy. More than anything, I simply hoped for a final befitting the occasion and decided by quality rather than controversy.

After a tournament in which officiating decisions and needless drama too often overshadowed the football itself, it was refreshing to see the world’s greatest prize settled on the pitch. Spain proved the stronger side on the day, defending with discipline and taking their chance when it mattered most. Argentina, for their part, fought until the final whistle and can leave the tournament with their heads held high after another remarkable campaign.

In the end, football was the real winner. Spain are worthy world champions.

Ascesis: The First Step Toward Contemplation and Theosis

The Ladder of Divine Ascent, a 12th-century
icon preserved at St. Catherine's Orthodox
Monastery, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt

“Tell me how you relate to pain and I will tell you who you are.” ~ Ernst Jünger, On Pain

In the Catholic tradition, ascesis is not simply self-denial, nor an end in itself. It is the intentional discipline of body and soul, strengthening the will and ordering the passions, so that one may conform more perfectly to the will of God. Through this, man, fallen yet redeemed by Christ, may be prepared for the heights of contemplation and the ineffable union with God known as theosis. [1]

The great spiritual writers of East and West viewed ascesis as the “purgative way,” the first of the three stages of the spiritual life. It involves the arduous clearing of the briars and the burning away of the thorns of sin and disordered passions, so that the garden of the soul may be ready for God’s planting. Without this foundation, the higher rungs of the ladder of divine ascent set forth by St. John Climacus remain out of reach.

For those seeking God, ascesis is not about rejecting creation, but about properly ordering it. Fasting, prayer, and work (ora et labora), custody of the senses, [2] and the conscious mortification of desires are not acts of disdain toward the material, but acts of liberation from its tyranny. This discipline restores man to the original hierarchy of his being: reason illuminated by faith guiding the will, the will directing the passions, and all oriented toward God as the Summum Bonum, the highest good.

In this context, ascesis prepares the soul for contemplation, not the empty idleness mistaken for prayer, but the deep stillness that comes when the interior battlefield has been brought into order. It is the silence of a heart no longer pulled by competing loves, but wholly devoted to the one eternal Love. Here begins the path to theosis, whereby man, by grace, shares in the divine life: Deus fit homo ut homo fiat Deus, God became man so that man might become God. [3]

In an age overwhelmed by noise, indulgence, and self-affirmation, the traditional practice of ascesis stands as a salvific call to return to the order of grace. It requires renunciation, so that the soul may rise, free and illuminated, to behold God in the uncreated light.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 19th, Feasts of San Vincenzo de’ Paoli, Sant’Arsenio il Grande, and Santi Giusta e Rufina

Notes:
[1] Theosis (or divinization) is the process by which man, redeemed and sanctified by grace, comes to participate in the divine life.
[2] Custody of the senses is the ascetical discipline of guarding the soul by regulating what one allows through sight, hearing, and other senses. It seeks to avoid occasions of sin, preserve interior recollection, and ensure that the senses serve the soul’s pursuit of God rather than lead it into distraction or temptation.
[3] That is, man, redeemed and sanctified by grace, is raised beyond the limits of his fallen nature to share eternally in the life and communion of God.

Photo of the Week: Statue of Silenus, Vatican Museums

Photo by New York Scugnizzo

Farewell to Neapolitan Poet Luciano Somma

Luciano Somma overlooking
his beloved Bay of Naples

Neapolitan poet Luciano Somma, a familiar presence at literary salons and cultural events, died in Naples on 9 July 2026. His funeral was held at the Parish of Nostra Signora del Sacro Cuore in the Vomero-Arenella neighborhood.

Born in the Quartieri Spagnoli on 18 March 1940, Somma began writing poetry in the Neapolitan language at the age of thirteen. While enjoying a successful career in commercial sales, he devoted his life to literature and to the promotion of the Neapolitan language and culture. He participated in numerous radio and television programs, mentored emerging recording artists, and wrote thousands of songs over the course of his lifetime.

His literary works are included in numerous anthologies and are studied at the University of Naples Federico II as examples of contemporary Neapolitan poetry. His poetry is also featured in the anthology Nati per la Vita, published by the Russian publisher Raduga, alongside such Italian literary figures as Salvatore Quasimodo, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Umberto Saba, and Eduardo De Filippo.

Somma received hundreds of literary awards and was twice honored with the Silver Medal of the President of the Italian Republic. He was also a prolific contributor to more than 150 newspapers, magazines, and literary periodicals, including Il Mattino di Napoli, La Nazione di Firenze, Men, Topolino, Intimità, Roma, Frate Indovino, La Disfida, Il Pungolo Verde, L’Eco del Popolo, Il Club degli Autori, Brontolo, Miscellanea, and Cronaca Filatelica. A member of the SIAE since 1967, more than 500 of his songs were published and recorded during his career.

Somma remained steadfastly proud of his native city, especially of his upbringing in the Quartieri Spagnoli. He embodied the napoletanità of the generation born during the Second World War—a generation that served as a bridge between the world of inherited traditions and the forces of modern globalization. Rather than merely preserving the past as folklore, he lived it and carried it into the twenty-first century.

His exploration of the challenges of urban life, Cristo Napulitano, was translated into English and presented in the United States at several academic events, including the Delirious Naples conference at Hofstra University in 2011. Several of his poems were published in the Journal of Italian Translation, Volume VI, Nos. 1–2 (Spring/Fall 2011).

Above all, however, Maestro Luciano Somma will be remembered by his family and friends for the deeply personal poems he composed for them throughout his life.

Among his principal published works are Ddoje voce ’e Napule (1968); La mia ricchezza (1971); Dimane (1977–1978); N’atu dimane (1982); ’E Ggranate (1990); Musica nova (1993); Momenti di versi (1997); Memorie d’Alba (1999); Brividi di ricordi (2000); Cristo Napulitano (2000); Il pianeta dei silenzi (2001); Ll’appuntamento (2001); and Immagini (2001).

~ By Cav. Charles Sant’Elia

Grand Opening of O' Sapore 67 in Tappan, New York

Anniversary of the National Uprising in Spain

July 18th marks the anniversary of the National Uprising in Spain, which began the Liberation Crusade 1936-1939. ¡Por Dios y por España!

Señor Dios, Creador y Redentor nuestro, que en los días aciagos de nuestra Patria quisiste levantar a tus hijos en defensa de la fe católica y las tradiciones de nuestra nación. Te pedimos por las almas de aquellos que dieron su vida por Dios y por España. Concede tu paz a los caídos y haz que su sacrificio florezca en la unidad, la justicia y la grandeza de nuestro pueblo. Protege a nuestra Patria de todo mal y guíanos por el camino de la verdad y el amor cristiano. Amén.

Lord God, our Creator and Redeemer, who in the dark days of our homeland chose to raise up Your children in defense of the Catholic faith and the traditions of our nation: we pray for the souls of those who gave their lives for God and for Spain. Grant Your peace to the fallen and let their sacrifice bear fruit in the unity, justice, and greatness of our people. Protect our homeland from all evil and guide us along the path of truth and Christian charity. Amen.

Remembering S.M.C. Don Carlos VII, Rey de las Españas

Carlos VII, Don Carlos María de Borbón y Austria-Este,
Duque de Madrid (b. 30 March 1868 — d. 18 July 1909)

In memory of S.M.C. Don Carlos VII, Duke of Madrid, legitimate King of Spain, who died in exile in Varese, Italy, in 1909, we pray for the happy repose of his soul. ¡Viva el Rey!

Eternal rest grant unto His Majesty, O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen

Feast of St. Christopher at Corpus Christi Church in South River, New Jersey

What Is It About Carousels?

The Michael Friedsam Memorial Carousel in Central Park 

A friend recently asked why I seem so fascinated by carousels. He noticed that whenever we visit places like Coney Island or Central Park, I always make time to stop and admire them.

Part of the answer is simply that they remind me of my parents. My father loved horses, and whenever he took us to an amusement park, we always rode the carousel together as a family. When there wasn't a real horse to ride, the painted stallions of the carousel were the next best thing.

The carved saddle of one of the most beloved horses on
the Central Park Carousel, adorned with a leaping lioness

But there is another reason.

I was fortunate enough to know not only both of my grandmothers but also my two maternal great-grandmothers. Like many Italian families, we had affectionate nicknames for everyone. One great-grandmother was “Grandma Bacio” because every visit began with pinched cheeks, cries of baciami!—“kiss me!”—and an endless shower of kisses.

The other was “Grandma Merry-Go-Round.”

She earned the nickname because, when my brother and I were very young, she somehow managed to buy us a two-horse merry-go-round, complete with a red and gold canopy, that seemed enormous in our tiny apartment. It became one of my earliest and happiest childhood memories. We rode it until we were too big, and from then on she was forever “Grandma Merry-Go-Round.”

Steeds from the Michael Friedsam Memorial Carousel
in Central Park and Deno's Carousel in Coney Island

Looking back, I have no idea how she could afford such a gift. A widow, she must have pinched every penny to buy it.

I do not know what became of it. I only know that I wish I still had it.

My memories alone would be reason enough to love carousels. Yet they are more than sentimental reminders of childhood. They are living works of art. Every carved horse possesses its own character, frozen forever at the height of its gallop. They preserve a craftsmanship that belongs to another age, when even objects of recreation were made to be beautiful.

Their history only deepens the fascination. Long before they became children’s attractions, carousels evolved from medieval equestrian exercises in which riders demonstrated their horsemanship and skill. Over the centuries, those martial displays became celebrations, and eventually the merry-go-rounds we know today. In a curious way, they have never entirely lost their equestrian soul.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 16th, Feast Day of the Madonna del Carmine

Hand-carved prancing carousel horse (1885) by Charles I.D. Looff (1852-1918) on view at the New York Historical Society

Feast of St. Mary Magdalene at St. John Vianney Church in Colonia, New Jersey

Pygmalion and Galatea

Pygmalion and Galatea, ca. 1890, Jean-Léon Gérôme

Pygmalion, a sculptor of rare genius,
Devoted himself to the pursuit of perfect beauty.
From ivory he fashioned a maiden
So flawless that he came to love the work of his own hands.
Day after day he adorned the silent figure,
Speaking to her as though life already stirred beneath her pale surface.
Moved by such devotion, foam-born Aphrodite heard his prayer,
And beneath his touch the statue awakened,
Cold ivory yielding at last to living flesh.

Il Portastendardo di Civitella del Tronto (n. 61 - Luglio 2026)

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Jersey City, New Jersey

Old Masters, New Amsterdam: Before There Was New York

A Dutch Flagship Coming to Anchor, ca. 1672, oil on canvas,
Willem van de Velde the Younger (1633-1707)

I have often written about my affection for the disappearing Italian neighborhoods of old New York, with their parish feasts, familiar accents, and distinct ethnic enclaves that once gave the city so much of its character. Visiting the New-York Historical’s current exhibition, Old Masters, New Amsterdam, was a reminder that the vanished Italian American communities I so often mourn were not the first to pass into history. Long before Little Italy, Bensonhurst, and countless other historic neighborhoods, there was New Amsterdam—a Dutch settlement that survives today more in memory than in brick and stone.

Created to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the founding of New Amsterdam, the exhibition brings together remarkable works by Rembrandt, Frans Hals, Jan Steen, and other masters of the Dutch Golden Age. These paintings illuminate the culture, society, and daily life of the seventeenth-century Netherlands. At the same time, an immersive reconstruction of New Amsterdam allows visitors to step into the settlement that once occupied the southern tip of Manhattan.

For anyone interested in early New York, Dutch history, or the artistic achievements of the seventeenth century, the exhibition is well worth seeing. It serves as a reminder that beneath the modern skyline lies a city whose earliest chapter was written by Dutch merchants, settlers, and craftsmen four centuries ago—a world that, like so many others in New York’s long history, survives today chiefly through memory, art, and the historical record.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 14th, Feast of San Marciano di Frigento

(L) Self-Portrait with Shaded Eyes, 1634, oil on panel, Rembrandt van
Rijn (1606-1669). (R) Portrait of a Man in a Tall Hat, ca. 1663,
oil on canvas, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

(L) Self-Portrait, ca. 1629-30, oil on panel, Jan Lievens (1607-1674).
(R) Head of a Girl, ca. 1645, oil on panel, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

Still Life with Meat and Basket of Cheese, ca. 1627,
oil on panel, Peter Claesz (1597-1661)

(L) Alchemist, 1684, oil on copper, Jacob Toorenvliet (1640-1719).
(R) Portrait of the Pharmacist Dr. Ysbrand Ysbrandsz. (1634/35-1705)
in an Interior, 1667, oil on canvas, Cornelis de Man (1621-1706)

(L) Bearded Man in a Fur Hat, ca. 1656, oil on panel, School of
Rembrandt van Rijn. (R) Smoker Seated at a Table, ca.
1654-57, oil on copper, Gabriel Metsu (1629-1667)

View from the Dunes Out to Sea, ca. 1655, oil on panel,
Adriaen van de Velde (1636-1672)

(L) Boy Playing a Flute, ca. 1635, oil on canvas, Attributed to Dirck van
Santvoort (1610-1680). (R) Old Woman at a Window with a Candle,
1671, oil on panel, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)

(L) Scene at an Inn, ca. 1648-50, oil on panel, Gerard ter Borch (1617-1681). (R) Encouragement to Drink, ca. 1648-50, oil on panel, Gerard ter Borch

The Departure of the Pilgrim Fathers from Delftshaven,
1620, oil on panel, Adam Willaerts (1577-1664)

(L) Woman Selling Game from a Stall, 1653-54, oil on canvas,
Gabriel Metsu (1629-1667). (R) Herring Seller and Boy,
1664, oil on panel, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)

(L) Bookkeeper at His Desk, ca. 1627, oil on panel, Jan Lievens
(1607-1674). (R) Scholar at His Desk, ca. 1632,
oil on panel, Jacob Backer (1608/9-1651)

A Winter Landscape with Skaters and Kolf Players, ca. 1610-1620,
oil on copper, Adam van Breen (1585-1640)

(L) Petrus (Peter) Stuyvesant, ca. 1660-1669, oil on wood panel,
unidentified artist. (R) Portrait of Antonie Coopal, 1635,
oil on Brazilian chestnut, Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669)

(L) Young Woman Seated in an Interior, Reading a Letter, ca. 1658-1661, oil on panel, Gabriel Metsu (I629-1667). (R) Portrait of a Lady, Seated with a Music Book on Her Lap, ca. 1640-44, oil on canvas, Gerrit Dou (1613-1675)