March 16, 2026

Sanfedismo and the Neapolitan Counter-Revolution, 1799 — Part I

Cardinal Fabrizio Dionigi Ruffo
b. Sept. 16, 1744—d. Dec. 13, 1827
See, Part II, Part III, Part IV

A Brief Introduction to the Sanfedisti

Pro Lege. Pro Rege ~ Sanfedisti Motto [1]
In Catholic monarchist circles, the Vendeans, Carlists, Papal Zouaves, and Cristeros are often cited as exemplary defenders of faith, order, and legitimate authority in the age of revolution. Far less familiar—particularly in the anglophone world—are the counter-revolutionary forces of Southern Italy, chiefly Cardinal Fabrizio Dionigi Ruffo and the Armata Cristiana e Reale della Santa Fede in Nostro Signore Gesù Cristo, [2] commonly known as the Sanfedisti. This neglect is notable given that Ruffo’s army was not only mobilized on a mass scale but also succeeded in restoring the Bourbon monarchy to the Kingdom of Naples. Other Italian counter-revolutionary movements, such as the Centurioni of Le Marche, [3] have also been marginalized in historical memory, but few achieved comparable political or military results.

The marginalization of the Sanfedisti is not accidental. It reflects a broader pattern of miseducation and partisan historical framing, shaped by the long dominance of liberal-nationalist interpretations of Italian history. Accounts of the Neapolitan Revolution of 1799 have largely been filtered through narratives established by ideologically committed historians such as Vincenzo Cuoco and Pietro Colletta. Within this framework, the Sanfedisti are routinely depicted as backward, irrational, superstitious, or inherently repressive. These oft-repeated characterizations continue to influence both popular and academic understandings of the period.

As with many episodes that complicate modern political mythology, these interpretations warrant closer scrutiny. They were formulated, in large part, to discredit the Bourbon dynasty of Naples and to retrospectively legitimize revolutionary intervention. Much of what passes for “conventional wisdom” about the Sanfedisti rests on selective outrage, rhetorical exaggeration, and the suppression of inconvenient evidence. When contemporary accounts are examined more carefully, and when testimony from both supporters and opponents is considered, a markedly different picture emerges—one in which the Sanfedisti appear not as a marginal eruption of fanaticism, but as a broad and largely popular response to foreign invasion, institutional collapse, and ideological rule imposed by force.

The Events Leading up to the Sanfedisti Uprising

In 1798, French forces invaded the Papal States and proclaimed the Roman Republic. Pope Pius VI refused to recognize the new regime and was arrested and deported to Valence, France, where he died in captivity on August 29, 1799. The revolutionary penchant for suppressing religious orders, widespread looting, violence against civilians, and systematic requisitions to fill Napoleon’s exchequer quickly alienated the population. Popular uprisings followed, but they were suppressed with force.

The Neapolitan royal family had direct reason to fear the expansion of revolutionary France. Several close relatives had already been murdered during the French Revolution, including King Ferdinand IV’s cousin King Louis XVI, Queen Maria Carolina’s sister Marie Antoinette, and the young Dauphin Louis-Charles, who died in captivity after prolonged abuses way too vile to recount here. These, and other horrific events, shaped the court’s perception of revolutionary power and its intentions.


Queen Maria Carolina, long depicted in revolutionary and later nationalist historiography as vindictive, manipulative, or fanatically reactionary, was in fact a politically astute ruler operating within the existential framework of the age. The execution of her sister Marie Antoinette and the collapse of allied thrones were not abstract events but personal and dynastic catastrophes. Her alignment with Britain and Austria reflected strategic calculation rather than hysteria. While she exercised considerable influence over policy—particularly after 1793—such involvement was neither unusual nor illegitimate for a queen consort in eighteenth-century Europe. The caricature of Maria Carolina as the architect of Neapolitan “reaction” owes more to partisan narrative than to balanced assessment.

Encouraged by his British and Austrian allies, Ferdinand IV joined a coalition effort to expel the French from Rome and restore papal authority. The king accompanied the army northward under the command of Austrian General Karl Mack von Lieberich. The French initially withdrew without resistance, and the Neapolitans were welcomed into Rome as liberators. Revolutionary symbols, including the recently erected trees of liberty, were torn down amid public celebration. This success, however, proved temporary. French forces regrouped and rapidly retook the city. The Neapolitan army, hampered by poor leadership and internal betrayal, collapsed and retreated southward.

Some historians later argued that Ferdinand’s decision to intervene precipitated the invasion of Naples itself, suggesting that restraint might have preserved peace. [4] Such claims rest on a questionable assumption—that revolutionary France, already engaged in territorial expansion across Europe, would have voluntarily respected Neapolitan neutrality.

Hostilities, in fact, predated the Roman campaign. Neapolitan forces had already been drawn into open conflict with revolutionary France during the siege of Toulon in 1793, fighting alongside British and Spanish troops in defense of the royalist city. This state of undeclared war continued and escalated following the French seizure of Malta in 1798, when Neapolitan, Portuguese, and British forces assisted the Maltese in expelling the invaders. As Harold Acton observed, the presence of revolutionary regimes along Naples’s borders, combined with the persecution of the papacy and the seizure of Malta, made the prospect of isolation increasingly implausible.
“In spite of the peace treaty with France, the presence of such neighbours across the frontier alarmed the King and Queen, and all Naples was outraged by the persecution of the Pope. Why should the Two Sicilies be spared when all the rest of Italy had been overrun? Bonaparte’s seizure of Malta in June seemed another preliminary to the encirclement of Naples.” [5]
It seems the King’s decision to attack was justifiable, after all. Unfortunately, the French were better trained, more experienced, and had superior leadership than the Neapolitans. According to contemporary historian Carlo De Nicola, French General Jean-Étienne Championnet said as much after his conquest of Naples:
“Championnet later said that, during his nine years of fighting, he had never encountered mass resistance equal to that of the Neapolitans…He stated that if the Neapolitans were disciplined, they would be the ultimate soldiers.” [6]
General Paul Thiébault similarly emphasized the ferocity of popular resistance following the collapse of the regular army, observing that the conflict became most dangerous precisely when formal military structures had ceased to function:
“The Neapolitans taught us to fear them as men. One might say, in fact, that the struggle for Naples only became terrifying after the Neapolitan army had ceased to exist. Although these Neapolitans had been beaten everywhere, and not counting the losses sustained during the early fighting, had suffered [many tens of thousands of casualties],…we were unable to vanquish them completely within the walls of their city or amid the ashes of their homes.” [7]
Later historians drew similar conclusions. Reflecting on the transformation of the Neapolitan populace under Bourbon rule, Michelangelo Schipa remarked:
“How unlike their ancestors,” remarked Schipa, “those who had offered cakes and kisses to the Austrian soldiers in 1707 and given the Spanish an ovation in 1734! In half a century, the Bourbons had transformed sheep into heroes: their resistance did honor to the monarchy.” [8]
As French forces advanced, Ferdinand IV retreated first to Naples and then to Sicily aboard the HMS Vanguard. Often omitted from the histories, during the flight, the royal family suffered the death of their six-year-old son, Prince Alberto, who died of exhaustion in the arms of Lady Hamilton during a terrifying gale on Christmas Day. [9] It is difficult to imagine that the King and Queen forgot this painful tragedy when they returned to their thrones, and the memory surely weighed on their judgment when the time came to mete out justice against those who had delivered their Kingdom to the French.

The king’s decision to remove the treasury has often been criticized, [10] yet it deprived the occupying regime of immediate access to state finances and constrained its ability to consolidate power. The contrast with 1860 is instructive. When Ferdinand’s great-grandson, King Francesco II, left the treasury intact, the Garibaldini and Piedmontese invaders were able to pilfer the Kingdom’s coffers for their own advantage and use the spoils to help finance their brutal conquests or pay off their massive debts to international financiers. Revolutions do not require popular legitimacy to succeed; they require institutional control.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli

Footnotes:
[1] For the law. For the King.
[2] Christian and Royal Army of the Holy Faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ.
[3] Reinerman, Alan J., The Failure of Popular Counter-Revolution in Risorgimento Italy: The Case of the Centurions, 1831-1847, The Historical Journal, 34, I (1991), pp. 21-41.
[4] Robertson, John, Enlightenment and Revolution: Naples 1799, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, Vol. 10, 2000, pp. 17-44, Published by Cambridge University Press.
[5] Acton, Harold, The Bourbons of Naples, Methuen and Co., Ltd., 1957.
[6] Santore, John, ed. Modern Naples: A Documentary History, 1799-1999, Italica Press, 2008.
[7] Ibid. Brackets appear in Santore’s transcription.
[8] Acton, Harold, The Bourbons of Naples, Methuen and Co., Ltd., 1957.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Robertson, John, Enlightenment and Revolution: Naples 1799, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, Vol. 10, 2000, pp. 17-44, Published by Cambridge University Press.

March 15, 2026

The Ides of March

Photos by New York Scugnizzo
In commemoration of the Ides of March, we are posting a few images of a limestone bust of Julius Caesar. Carved in Apulia in southern Italy around 1225–1250 and later reworked, the bust bears the Latin inscription DIVI IVLI CAE—“Deified Julius Caesar.” Its strong, realistic features recall the portraits of Caesar seen on Roman coinage from about 40 B.C., though the form of the lettering suggests that parts of the inscription were altered during the Italian Renaissance. The sculpture is likely connected to the patronage of Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor, whose monuments often placed figures high above the viewer. The continuation of the drapery beneath the inscription indicates the bust was intended to be viewed from below. Today it remains in a private collection in the United States.

Remembering The Ides of March

The Death of Julius Caesar by Vincenzo Camuccini (1771-1844),
Museo Nazionale di Capodimonte, Napoli
"Beware the ides of March," a warning given by a seer in Shakespeare's play The Tragedy of Julius Caesar that has, like many of his phrases, survived centuries. Most have heard it, less have basic understanding of what it means, less still have a deeper understanding.

In ancient Rome, every month had an ides, sort of a midpoint, but not exactly. It was usually the thirteenth, but the fifteenth for four months (March, May, July, and October). The ides were sacred to Jupiter and religious observances were held to him on those days. The ides of March was also known for settling debts, and possibly because of that was chosen as the date for the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BC. Continue reading

Photo of the Week: Sphinx in the Vatican Museums' Pinecone Courtyard

Photo by New York Scugnizzo

Feast of Saint Joseph at Corpus Christi Church in South River, New Jersey

March 14, 2026

A Small Piece of Rome

During my visit to Rome last October, I didn’t want to return home with only the usual souvenirs—keychains, magnets, or postcards. I wanted something unique, something unmistakably Roman.

Thanks to a Roman friend, I found exactly that. On her suggestion, I ordered several custom-made miniature bronze nasoni, replicas of the famous cast-iron fountains installed throughout the Eternal City in the late nineteenth century. These small fountains, with their constant streams of fresh water, are among the quiet symbols of everyday Roman life.

The miniatures were crafted by Dante Mortet, a fifth-generation sculptor and cesellatore, who made the beautifully detailed pieces in his Roman parlor. This week they finally arrived, carefully packed and accompanied by a handwritten note sealed with wax.

They will make wonderful gifts, and I could not be happier.

Thank you, Dante.

Remembering Servant of God Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary

9 May 1892 – 14 March 1989

In memory of Servant of God Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary, Princess of Bourbon-Parma, we pray for the happy repose of her soul.

Eternal rest grant unto Her Majesty, 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.

Remembering S.A.R. Don Sisto Ferdinando di Bourbon Parma and Braganza

1 August 1886 — 14 March 1934

In memory of S.A.R. Don Sisto Ferdinando di Bourbon Parma and Braganza, Infant of Spain, Prince of Parma and Piacenza, we pray for the happy repose of his soul.

Eternal rest grant unto him, 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.

Fourth Sunday in Lent at Our Lady of Sorrows Church in Jersey City, New Jersey

March 13, 2026

Jackpot at the Used Bookshop

Twilight gathers over the red-brick tower of the Jefferson Market
Library, its Victorian Gothic silhouette rising above Greenwich
Village like a quiet sentinel of the city's literary past

While perusing my favorite used bookshop, I fortuitously stumbled upon a set of books by José Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955) that will make a welcome addition to my home bochord. It was an unexpected find. I had long since finished the volumes I discovered there last year, and for some time, the store shelf had yielded little of interest.

Now, my exploration can continue with a soft and hardback edition of Man and Crisis (1958), a softcover copy of Man and People (1957), and a softcover copy of History as a System and Other Essays Toward a Philosophy of History (1941). They are a welcome opportunity to dive deeper into the Spanish philosopher’s profound thought.

Afterward, we enjoyed an evening stroll in the cool air, passing the historic Salmagundi Club and the nearby Jefferson Market Library, a fitting close to a day spent among books.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, March 12th, Feast of San Gregorio Magno

Feast of Beato Pietro II, Abate di Cava

The Historic Abbey of La Trinità della Cava,
where Blessed Peter II served as Abbot,
by James Duffield Harding (1833)
March 13th is the Feast of Blessed Peter II of La Cava (d. 1208), a Benedictine monk and abbot of the Abbey of La Trinità della Cava in Cava de’ Tirreni, Salerno. Known for his holiness, wisdom, and prudent leadership, he guided the monastery during a period of spiritual growth and stability.

As abbot, he strengthened monastic discipline, fostered learning, and upheld the Benedictine ideals of prayer and community life. Revered for his virtue and devotion, he came to be venerated locally as Blessed.

His legacy remains closely tied to the historic Abbey of La Cava, where his life of humility and faithful service continues to inspire the monastic community.

Evviva Beato Pietro II, abate di Cava!

In celebration of his feast, we offer this prayer:

Prayer to Blessed Peter II of La Cava

O God, who gave to Your Church Blessed Peter II of La Cava as a model of monastic life and devotion, grant through his intercession that we may live in faith, hope, and charity, seeking to serve You above all things. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen

Convegno su Pietro Ramaglia

March 12, 2026

Movie Review — Dracula: A Love Tale (2026)

Spoiler Alert!
"I am just a poor soul condemned by God and cursed to walk in the shadow of death for all eternity." ~ Luc Besson's Dracula: A Love Tale (2026), as spoken by Prince Vladislav of Wallachia, played by Caleb Landry Jones
Dracula: A Love Tale, directed by Luc Besson, is less an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s famous novel than a sweeping gothic romance. Running over two hours, the film traces Vlad the Impaler’s centuries-long obsession with finding the reincarnation of his lost bride Elisabeta.

Since childhood, I’ve had a fascination with vampire stories (Dracula, Nosferatu, even Vampirella), so this was a film I had been looking forward to for quite some time. It should be noted that the film contains graphic violence and scenes some viewers may find disturbing.

Visually, the film is striking. The cinematography gives the story a brooding, painterly atmosphere. The production design is particularly memorable: suits of armor, elaborate helmets, and medieval weaponry dominate the early sequences, lending the battle scenes a mythic weight. The costumes throughout are excellent, especially the elaborate court attire. Even when the dancing itself feels oddly goofy, the clothing remains spectacular.

Danny Elfman’s score is one of the film’s greatest strengths. His music threads melancholy through the darker moments, elevating several scenes into something operatic. The lush score reinforces the film’s dark romantic mood.

Performance-wise, the cast is strong across the board. Caleb Landry Jones plays Dracula as a haunted, almost spectral figure—more cursed lover than monstrous predator. Christoph Waltz brings quiet intensity to the role of the soft-spoken yet relentless priest pursuing him, grounding the story in moral conviction.

The true standout, however, is Matilda De Angelis as Maria. Her performance infuses the film with genuine emotional energy, culminating in a shockingly brutal death scene. It is the one moment when the film fully embraces the gore and violence of the horror genre.
(L) Caleb Landry Jones as Count Dracula. (R) Matilda De Angelis as Maria
Zoë Bleu’s Elisabeta/Mina is visually striking, especially when she appears in eastern princess regalia—an aesthetic that fits perfectly with the film’s dreamlike Carpathian setting.

Not every creative choice works. The CGI gargoyles that attend Dracula are easily the film’s weakest element. Their presence feels distracting and unnecessary. The Count’s servants would have been far more effective as vampire thralls or perhaps villagers bound to him. That said, the small twist near the end—when the gargoyles transform into children—offers a partial explanation for their origin.

Another disturbing highlight comes in the monastery sequence, where Dracula seduces and massacres a group of nuns. The scene is unsettling, strikingly blasphemous in tone, and stands out for its intensity. It underscores the film’s darker impulses.

Ultimately, Dracula: A Love Tale feels closer in spirit to the dark fairy tales of Old Europe than to a horror film. At times it resembles the strange, mythic storytelling of Giambattista Basile—a world where romance, violence, and superstition intertwine. While it strays far from Stoker’s novel, it succeeds as a visually rich—if occasionally flawed—gothic fable.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, March 11th, Feast of Santa Teresa Margherita del Cuore di Gesù

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

March 11, 2026

Presentazione del libro Giuseppe Mario Arpino, il diplomatico di Ferdinando II di Borbone di Gianvito Armenise

A Ghibelline and the Green Fairy

Archival photograph by the author
As I’m wont to do after a hard day’s work, I enjoy a stiff drink to clear my mind. The other evening, while waiting for a friend at a new favorite watering hole, I ordered absinthe and noticed the Art Deco dispenser drawing glances from a group of young women nearby. As the water dripped over the sugar cube and the louche bloomed in the Pontarlier glass, one of them, captivated by the ritual, asked if she might take a picture.

Curious, she lingered and struck up a conversation. I bought her a glass and showed her how the clear spirit clouds into opalescent green. We spoke for a while. She was from Wisconsin and loved living in New York, despite its many problems. I, a native son, confessed I was less sanguine about what has become of my city.

With sudden earnestness, she asked if I was a Republican.

“Lord no,” I said. “I’m a Ghibelline.”

She stared at me, blank and uncomprehending. After a few strained seconds, I began to explain. Before I could finish, she turned on her heel and walked back to her friends.

I returned to my true companion of late—sweet Lady Absinthe, La Fée Verte—who, unlike most, remains faithful to the end.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, March 10th, traditional Carlist commemoration of the Mártires de la Tradición

Feast of St. Joseph at the Oratory of St. Josaphat in Bayside, Queens

March 10, 2026

Remembering the Martyrs of Tradition

La Verdad a los Mártires de la Tradición [3]

“We must procure suffrages for the souls of those who have preceded us in this secular struggle, and honor their memory in all imaginable ways, so that they serve as an encouragement and example for the young and keep alive in them the sacred fire of love for God, the Country and the King.” ~ Don Carlos VII [1]

March 10th, as designated by Don Carlos VII in 1895, in remembrance of the anniversary of the death of his grandfather Don Carlos V, is a national holiday in honor of the martyrs who have “perished in the shadow of the flag of God, Country and King on the battlefields, in exile, in dungeons and hospitals.” [2] 


In memory of the Martyrs of Tradition (Mártires de la Tradición), we pray for the happy repose of their souls.

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

_____________________________

[1] S.M.C. Don Carlos VII, in a letter from his exile in Venice to his Chief Delegate, the Marquis of Cerralbo

[2] Ibid

[3] Illustration from La Verdad: Periódico Popular Tradicionalista, Año XVI Número 751 - 1913 marzo 10

Feast of St. Joseph at St. Margaret of Cortona Church in the Bronx, New York

March 9, 2026

Brooklyn FC Kicks Off in Coney Island with Opening-Day Victory

The subway poster that first caught my eye
On an overcast Sunday afternoon, March 8, a few friends and I headed to Maimonides Park in Coney Island for Brooklyn FC’s inaugural match in the USL Championship.

Arriving early paid off—when the gates opened, we were literally the first fans inside.

The afternoon began almost by accident. A few weeks earlier, I had noticed an advertisement for the match in a subway station and mentioned it to friends. Before long, we were standing outside the gate on opening day.

Founded in 2024, Brooklyn FC has adopted colors—black, brown, and taupe—said to reflect the borough itself: the brownstone buildings, the limestone of the Brooklyn Bridge, and perhaps even the blacktop streets and tar-beach rooftops of its neighborhoods.

Roughly 1,000 people turned out for the occasion. Fans were welcomed with free hats, stickers, a hot dog, and a non-alcoholic drink. I added a scarf to the collection.

The match delivered its own piece of history in the 26th minute when Carlos Obregón Jr. converted a penalty, giving Brooklyn a 1–0 victory over visiting Indy Eleven. The team celebrated beneath the towering Parachute Jump along the boardwalk—one of Coney Island’s most recognizable landmarks.

What struck me most was the simple pleasure of finally having a local club worth supporting. It’s the first American team I’ve felt inclined to follow since the original New York Cosmos. I briefly considered rooting for the modern Cosmos—until I learned they now play across the river in Paterson, New Jersey.

Forza Brooklyn!

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, March 9th, Feast of Santa Francesca Romana
First at the gate
(L) The defunct Parachute Jump, a historic landmark along the Coney Island Boardwalk. (R) A sticker bearing the team's logo, which resembles the Brooklyn Bridge
A complimentary baseball cap given to fans
We broke our Lenten fast with a free Nathan's Famous hotdog
Brooklyn’s newest firm arrives properly kitted out
(L) Our pal Rocco was chosen to escort the players onto the field and serve as a ball boy. (R) Later, getting a little too rowdy, Rocco showed me a yellow card.
Watching both teams warm up before kickoff
A look at the stadium from the field
The historic goooooooooal by Obregón Jr.
Action in front of the home end beneath the Curva Sud
Ball boy Rocco gets his moment to shine
Full time: Brooklyn FC 1-0 Indy Eleven
Brooklyn Win!
After the match, Rocco Romeo and his teammates greeted young fans and signed autographs

Photo of the Week: One of Two Black Granite Lions of Nectanebo I, Vatican Museum

Photo be New York Scugnizzo
Commissioned by Pharaoh Nectanebo I (r. 380–362 BC) of the 30th Dynasty, the statues likely adorned a temple to Thoth at Hermopolis Parva (modern Tell Baqliya) in the Nile Delta. Transported to Rome during the Imperial period, they probably decorated the Temple of Isis in the Campus Martius. Rediscovered in the 15th century, they were installed in 1586 at the 
Fontana dell’Acqua Felice near the Baths of Diocletian. In 1839, Pope Gregory XVI ordered copies to replace the originals, which were transferred to the Vatican Museums, where they are now displayed in the Pinecone Courtyard (Cortile della Pigna).

Sicilian and Italian Folk Music Concert Featuring Amanda Pascali in Elmhurst, New York

Join us at Italian Charities of America on March 14, 2026, at 7:00 PM (ET) for an unforgettable evening with internationally acclaimed singer/songwriter Amanda Pascali. Celebrated for her “Immigrant American Folk” sound and praised by NPR and other international outlets, Pascali brings to life the rich musical traditions of Sicily and Italy, blending Sicilian and English in songs that explore the first-generation American experience. A 2021 Houston Chronicle Musician of the Year and Fulbright Fellow, she has performed from the Kennedy Center to the European Union Parliament and serves as an artist in residence at the Library of Congress. The concert will be held at 83-20 Queens Blvd., Elmhurst, NY 11373; seating is limited, so please register online. Refreshments will follow the performance.

March 8, 2026

Wolf Girls

Stirred deeper than I realized, my recent visit to the Asian Art Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art conjured unsettling visions and old memories long forgotten. What seemed serene beneath the museum’s quiet lights followed me home, shedding its stillness in the dark. I offer this as a caution: some images do not remain on the wall, and some histories, once awakened, do not easily return to sleep.
Insomnia has a way of thinning the veil. When sleep finally comes, it arrives like a trapdoor giving way beneath the feet. When they deign to visit, my dreams are brief and feral. I do not always remember them, but when I do, they are disquieting.

Years ago in Montreal, three young women from Mumbai flirted with me in an elevator. Silk scarves, dark eyes, and lupine smiles, they invited me to their hotel room. Like me, they were on holiday.

Tempted by the prospect of engaging with adepts in the Kama Sutra, I reluctantly declined, bound to a prior engagement. It was the sort of scene Western Orientalism makes of the exotic—an old male fantasy dressed in sapphire and perfume, worthy of Jean-Léon Gérôme, Eugène Delacroix, or Domenico Morelli.

At the time, I was deep into Eastern art and philosophy, and desire felt almost metaphysical.

In the dream, their disappointment turns confrontational. They press against me, pawing and pleading. They try to place consecrated sugar—a hit of acid—on my tongue. The fantasy turns feverish. Something archetypal surfaces, impersonal and merciless. Their movements grow frenzied, ecstatic; their bodies blur and begin to merge into a single six-armed temptress.

I begin to yield, drawn toward surrender like William Savage among the Thuggees in the cult classic film The Deceivers (1988).

Then, in a flash of cold lucidity, I turn on them. With sudden, inexplicable force, I cast them into the dark elevator shaft—the Abyss.

I wake before they reach the bottom.

Sleep does not return.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, March 7th, Feast of San Tommaso D'Aquino

Sixth Sung High Mass of a Nine Month Novena of Masses in Honor of Blessed Karl of Austria

March 7, 2026

Ponderable Quote from Textos de Doctrina Política by Juan Vásquez de Mella (III)

Juan Vásquez de Mella y Fanjul
(8 June 1861—26 February 1928)
A people declines and dies when its internal moral unity is broken, and an entire generation appears—disbelieving—regarding itself as a broken link in the chain of the centuries, unaware that without the community of tradition there is no Fatherland; that the Fatherland is not formed by the soil we tread, nor the atmosphere we breathe, nor the sun that shines upon us, but by that spiritual patrimony which previous generations have fashioned for us over the centuries, and which we have the right to perfect, to expand, to ennoble; but not to squander, not to destroy, not to allow to reach future generations diminished or not at all; that tradition, in the final analysis, is identified with progress, and there is no progress without tradition, nor true tradition without progress. Tradition means the transmission of a wealth of ideas, beliefs, aspirations, institutions, from one generation to another, founded upon a right and a duty: the right of the generation that has produced the patrimony—or part of the spiritual and material patrimony—of a people, that it pass on to the generations to come; and the duty of the generation that receives it to develop it, not to diminish or destroy it, and thus deprive those who follow of it. Upon this right of the preceding generation and upon this duty of the generation that follows rests the juridical foundation of tradition, which cannot be denied without murdering the Fatherland.

A progress that were an extraordinary invention and did not rely upon tradition to transmit it would die at the very moment of its birth; and a tradition that added nothing to the inheritance received, indifferent to the demands of new needs, would be something dead and petrified, which would have to be set aside so as not to obstruct the channel of history through which the life of a nation flows. Therefore, while applauding progress—which consists only in successive perfection—it is necessary to feel as the Fatherland feels, to think as the Fatherland thinks, to love as the Fatherland loves; and for this it is necessary not to detach oneself from the chain of generations and to affirm those characteristics that no politician, nor any warrior, has fashioned, but which many generations and many centuries have shaped in collaboration with different races and peoples and diverse historical influences, which a single belief—serving as a golden clasp—joined together so as to seal our spirit with indelible marks.
Translation my own. Speech delivered in Santander, September 1916; published in Juan Vásquez de Mella, Textos de Doctrina Política, Preliminary Study, Selections and Notes by Rafael Gambra (Madrid, 1953), p.28.