Logic Matters

It is bad luck to return from blue skies in Milan to a miserably wet and cold Cambridge (it is one of those times when those notices in the Botanical Gardens classifying us as falling into a ’semi-arid’ region seem a mockery). And term has ended so the faculty is almost deserted, so that’s not very cheering either. It all gives added attraction to the idea of spending a lot more of the year in Italy when I retire.

In an Italian mood, we’ve just watched L’Eclisse for the first time in very many years. It does remain quite astonishing. And what is remarkable is just how many of the images seem so very familiar, having been burnt into the memory by perhaps three viewings in the cinema decades ago. For a tiny example, there is a moment when Monica Vitti in longshot is unhappily walking home after a bad night alongside a grassy bank, carrying her handbag and perhaps a silk wrap or scarf, and she suddenly — as one might — swishes the scarf though some plants by the road. Why on earth should one remember that? Yet both of us watching did.

Continuing to wax lyrical about the food here would quickly get very boring, so I won’t — I’ll just say that if you get a chance to eat at the Trattoria dei Cacciatori, something of a Milanese institution, in old farm buildings on the outskirts of the city, then do take it!

But enough already. It has been very good being here again, in all sorts of ways (not just gastronomic!). And in the gaps between other things, I’m having the welcome chance to idly turn over in my mind what my next work project(s) should be. For the first time in far too many years, I find myself a completely free agent. No journal to edit, no necessity to write anything to get brownie points for this or that purpose, no new courses I need to work up. The feeling of freedom is quite a novelty. Slightly disconverting, but I’m rather enjoying it. And some possible ideas are already beginning to take shape …

Two of life’s mysteries. Why is it more or less impossible to get a decent cappuccino in England when any Autogrill stop on an Italian motorway can do a brilliant one? And just why is tagliatelle in butter with white  truffle shaved over it to die for?

I’m taking an overdue weekend away from the delights of Cambridge and from thinking/teaching about matters logical. Milan isn’t at all my favourite Italian city (too big, too flat, too nineteenth century, too North European): but The Daughter is here, and the place has its moments. The front of the Duomo is almost revealed again after restoration and looks amazing. The shops in their way look equally wonderful (though it is mostly quite mad of course). L’Artigiano in Fiera is on at the moment, a huge fair, much of it showing off local products from all over Italy, including — inevitably — unending stalls of hams and sausages and salami and lardo and other delights of more variety than could last a lifetime. We were bowled over by the pride of the producers. Four people came back laden with porcine goodies.

And then there are the restaurants. Last night to La Riscacca Blu for the best sea food meal ever. Carpaccio of tuna and yellowtail and swordfish and anchovies. A salad of scampi and onions and tomatoes awash in oil. Then a very light fritto misto of scampi and octopus and squid and strips of courgettes. A pause. Pasta with red mullet. Then a whole turbot between four, simply baked but wonderful. Fine chardonnay from Alto Adige. Like many good Italian restaurants, the place looks nothing special. But it seems just impossible to eat like this in England even if you spend an absolute fortune and we didn’t. (Our neighbours at the next table were a tough looking quartet of heavy-set guys, tucking in with great relish to a distinctly adventurous menu. It dawned on us that they must have been bodyguards for the minister of defence a couple of tables down.) So, when you are next in Milan …

Putting a tracker here has certainly been very good for deflating any fantasies about the number of people who might read this blog or about why they arrive here. You dream that are oodles of logic enthusiasts out in the world. But ah no, people arrive having googled for “Tesco discrimination”, “cheap universities”, “donkey philosophy”, “JK Rowling eat your heart out” … and now “photos of Monica Vitti”. Heaven knows what you all make of it!

But so as not to disappoint at least the last contingent of surfers, here is Vitti again, with Alain Delon in L’Eclisse. An earlier time-slice of me used to think they were the epitome of cool; and in fact, I rather think I still do …

Idling through the net — as one does — I just chanced on this photo of Monica Vitti. A blast from the past indeed, as I had a copy of that very shot on my wall as a student for a couple of years.

I fairly recently saw L’Avventura again after a gap of many, many years. I’m not sure why, but I wasn’t really expecting the film to stand up after four decades, and predicted that it would seem too mannered and pretentious. But I was bowled over anew: bleak but stunning still. And Monica Vitti so beautiful and touching …

While I couldn’t possibly condone downloading it, I notice that — in the absence of a DVD for the UK — a torrent of L’Avventura is indexed at mininova.org. [Revised: The photo now links to a somewhat larger version. For a few more photos, search this blog for "Monica Vitti"! ]

As a bit of a break from absolute generality, I’ve just started reading Melvin Fitting’s short book Incompleteness in the Land of Sets. I’ll write some comments here when I’ve finished it (which shouldn’t take long, as there are just 134 pages before the endmatter): but the book so far promises to be absolutely excellent.

Meanwhile, for anyone passing by Siena this summer (and to make Tim Crane even more envious), a couple more recommendations. An old favourite is Bottega di Lornano (though be warned, locals out for a special meal seem expected to have huge appetites): the pici with a pork ragu with fennel seeds and pine nuts is amazing. While twenty yards from our door, La Porta del Chianti is less hardcore, seems to have more of a tourist clientele in the summer, but is still pretty good and they care a lot about their wines.

It will have to be marmite on toast for a fortnight to recover …

Normal philosophical service will be resumed soon. Too soon … But meanwhile, if you get a chance to sample Dievole’s “Novecento” Chianto Classico riserva 2003, then you really should splurge out on a bottle! (Recommended after an excellent afternoon’s wine-tasting at their stunningly situated estate: their other wines are excellent too.)

The view from the kitchen table from which I’m blogging for the next week or two …