A Whole New Life: Revisiting Ancient History

Thomas Wolfe said, “You Can't Go Home Again” in his novel by the same name, describing how you can’t revisit the past: “You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."[1]

My son Marc and I attempted to revisit our past of 30 years ago, by going to Milan, Vicenza

(our home for three years), and the Venetian Carnivale. For me it was a realization that I can go back to a place, but it’s never the same—it has changed with time just as I have personally changed while living in various other places. It is like looking out the window of a fast-moving train and glimpsing pictures from the past, superimposed on the present.

Our main purpose in the trip was that so that my son, Marc, could show his 18-year-old daughter. Kira, and I could show my youngest son, Bryan, who was born in Vicenza, the land of Bryan’s birth. It was an adventure that emphasized how old I am.

Even before I left, I felt very anxious, which is not like me. The closer departure came, the more anxious I became. Finally, I asked my sons-in-law to give me a priesthood blessing. I felt better after that, but was always looking over my shoulder waiting for something bad to happen.

Bryan and I flew out of Salt Lake City, and met Marc and Kira (who came from Nashville, Tennessee) in New Jersey where we all departed for Milan, Italy together.

The flight was okay, except for the food, and we landed early in the morning of a new day. Marc had planned for the first hotel, Mariott’s “Moxy” Hotel which had a shuttle going to the main terminal of Milan’s Malpensa Airport. We collected our bags, dropped them off at the hotel and began our Milan adventure. We took the train to downtown Milan, and began exploring.

We saw some outstanding street art, before we spent some time at a museum where an
uncompleted Michelangelo statue was the main feature. It was our introduction to Schizophrenic Milan.

I had studied Milan (back when) and knew that it was a city created by force and intrigue among the various aristocracy, especially the Viscontis, who ruled Milan for 130 years. Milan was just one of several city-states like Genoa, Florence, and Venice, that fought for dominance in the area. Condottiere were paid mercenaries and sold their skills to the highest bidders; it was one of the greatest of these, a friend of the banker, Cosmo de Medici, Francesco Sforza, who grabbed the reins of Milan and became the Duke of Milan.

Sforza Castle

Sforza’s Castle was like a rough-hewn box filled with magnificent treasures inside. The castle shows the battle scars of many generations. But inside the huge castle doors, there were wonderful exhibits of art and history. There was a large inner courtyard but all the museums, displays, exhibits were in the elegant rooms built against the massive walls. I could envision ancient chaos and business in the courtyard where now there were only lawns, cement and tourists.

The art was often Medieval, and contrasted

with the beauty of the Renaissance statuary. I took a photo of Marc, with his name-sake, Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor and philosopher in one area. Another area contrasts a medieval Madonna statue with the beautiful Renaissance Maddona that surpassed it. The castle was a maze of statuary, stained glass, tapestries, ancient art, armor, and weapons. I could imagine it in many ways, but not as a place where families lived. Inside were a few beautiful arched masonry windows.

Marcus Aurelius (left) & Marc

We moved across the street from the castle, saw some wonderful fountains and had our first real Italian pizza, which Marc and Bryan said tasted nothing like real pizza, but was “tourist pizza.”

Then we were onto the Duomo, Milan’s massive cathedral. The Gothic cathedral took nearly six centuries to complete. It is the largest church in Italy (the larger St. Peter's Basilica is in the State of Vatican City) and the fifth largest in the world. The spires draw one’s attention to the heavens, as all medieval cathedrals do, but includes ornate flying buttresses that would have appalled a Gothic architect. You either love or hate the art of the cathedral.

Wandering inside the huge building, there was a central entryway, with alcoves to either

Bryan, Marc & Kira in front of Duoma

side. It was like wandering inside a series of sarcophaguses, enormous stained glass windows, altars and marble passion plays. Alongside this was a single confession box that somehow seemed out of place. But then the cathedral never felt like a church.

Across the street from the Duomo is the famous Galleria Vittoria Emanuele II, a massive shopping mall of high class Milanese products. I took a photo of Kira next to a Gucci store and Marc upstairs in the Gucci store looking at $1,000.00 shoes.

It was Fashion Week in Milano while we were there, and Kira was interested in all the fashions we saw in and out of the shops. Years ago, when we lived in Italy, the Officers’ Wives Club arranged for a trip to Milan and its fashion shows and I recall only how dark and close it was, and the drastic fashions on twig-thin models with wild hair and darkly colored eyes.

The Moxy Hotel we stayed in was unlike any hotel I’d ever seen, flashy purple neon lights, tables set up for all kinds of games for guests to play, and a “Let’s Have Fun” attitude. There was a café/bar in the lobby and lots of action was going on everywhere.

Early the next morning, we took a high-speed train

from Milano to Vicenza, our next stop.