Then after a long run time
shalt rise again and the light.
ES Chile, "Prometheus Bound"
Barnabo, its places, its thoughts, the quiet act of humanity's uncertain, the expectation of the event that resolves the drama. "Barnabo of the Mountains" is the universe of Buzzati, rather than a debut, an ad. Many of the issues that the writer will develop Belluno in his masterpiece, "The Desert of the Tartars" , are already present in embryonic form but states, among the fir trees of the Grave, in supporting the scree of Croda Marden, along ... five paths that lead into the forest. " . All earth and sky, woods and animals, men and things, it announced the suspension achronic the wait. Days go by the months the seasons and years. But time is not. That belongs to a past that the stubbornness of this viscous forces to survive, forcing us to not "... forget the youth." Do not forget: an irrevocable sentence. Although, in apparent contradiction with the assumption, "Without anyone make you case, the time continues to pass" . Mere appearance. In this sense, Buzzati, the past is always present because " Memory is the center of the comparison between time of life and time in the world " (H. Blumenberg, " time of life and time in the world "; page. 334. Il Mulino) .
Panta rei, everything deceives us: the world "... is a child playing." That little boy, just what Pascoli memory, is in Barnabas, the most essential aspect of the flight on being, the primordial inesistere of nostalgia, melancholy and the Platonic recollection of the "first". Thus nullifying the peace that rocked the world forgot Iperuranio. Not Cronos, neither his voice syncopated. Do not swing the pole and the relentless tempo of life expressed by the world. The place - time for action expands the continuum psychologizing of 'aion , root timeless eternity.
figure and the figure of the time still, the old drum "... thrown in the Grave, in the marketplace: there are still parts of iron, all rusty." The essential , rust, always survives. The drum is the writer, all of us. We suffer the oppression of the time it survives. And meanwhile we produce it. The ancient harpsichord does not mention a timeline but it creates the premise. Barnabo tries to defend itself from the cosmic rhythm generated by the eardrum stretched between valleys and ridges, pretending to wait for something, someone, a sigh of the wind, a cloud, a wounded crow, thousands of wrinkled gray limestone, the forgiveness of our Redemption. The drum is waiting, along with Barnabas, the last shot of mace, under the gaze of the blind "great crags."
Time is everything for Buzz. Everything is time. We measure the expected rush to assert that in existing. The clock tower of St. Nicholas, hoary metronome seems panting in the dust. The old drum keeps the time, it produces through the rhythmic percussion of the manual. And 'man the center of chronic flow. But now the instrument lies off the bed of the river to witness the archaic world of the original. The clock tower, however, does not generate the time but only measure it, breaking the alchemical nature and shatters into nonexistent moments. Universality disappears analogue of the continuous flow to make way for digitization of the world. This is suggested by the modern impotent Buzzati.
The diagram drawn by digital means on the blades rock syncopation of life. The pace of immobility. Every conquered the summit produces a defeat because it generates new waiting, endless waiting. We are unaware, however, volunteers, subjects of Cronos pantocrator , sir dell'illudenza epiphenomenal. Interpret, with Buzz, our dreams. And every day is born "... a kind of new life" animated statue waiting for a blow. Here catastrophic, and only in metastrofico " Desert."
There is always a knife to dissect the world. When, at the beginning of the third chapter, Barnabo waiver of delay and launches into a dance, the music stops. A sign. The case method as the time involved and shows us the emptiness. The silence speaks louder old. And, as the acrid smell of rusting old harpsichord, they're happy life as it is while the band, after believing playing, producing silent reality.
unannounced, just as the time in the future, Del Colle "... playing the harmonica and the others are silent to hear." tool, transfiguration of the modern flute panic breaks the source and starts the dream of modernity. The body breaks down the lute and orchestra pretending, abandoned life produces live where this comes the wait. The universe of Barnabas
wheel under the influence of current panpsychist that prose "primitive" by Buzzati sculpts with effective descriptive, seemingly unadorned and markedly symbolic. The fortress Bastiani, here, has resigned and the appearance of a powder of tiny chance. An old barrel of which, however, spend long sleepless nights to listen, to realize the time, says Novalis, "... .. comes with boredom." And the moment s'aggruma in the stability of the moment: "The crags seem even more properties, such as waiting for someone" . At solitary anxieties of Giovanni Drogo, only nothing is missing. The story moves back in the news and shows a human destiny. The blood will, in fact, to declare the end of time and expectation; from the past to bringing the Tragos Atonement which temporarily restores our everyday lives. Del Colle's blood percolating through the cracks of time and birth history. The gunshot that announced, together, one end and a beginning, a replica of the shot harpsichord accompanying the rapid motion of the blade to officiate the atoning sacrifice. The blood bathes the earth and restore the archaic ritual of fertility, the effectiveness of which claims the absolute innocence of the sacrifice. Del Colle goat is perfectly free of guilt: he can not die because no one knows why he lives. Others have described the unreasonable purity of the executioner - Asterion. Surprised to Buzzati points to the guilt of an unwitting victim of the sacrifice that we all need to come back to life. "There was a heavy silence ..." . Everything happens in the silence of the world.
Buzzati writes by gripping a nail from the rock that slips through the cracks drawing inspiration sparks heavy as the mountains looming over the house of Marden. And 'work that "great sculptor" described by Marguerite Yourcenar that produces in the marble flesh "... loss without death, survival with no resurrection ..."
Meanwhile time collapses under the heavy tread of Barnabas "... soon reached the gravel." The future adverbial rapid declines inverting the past verbal concordance and mountains. Buzzati deconstructs every possible history. The present assumption of man, is absent. And when "everything will be lost in time" , life "... will continue to pass, unbroken, all the earth." The river, still, turn the water flowing.
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