III.xiii. Cecily

"But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder high'r:
When to her organ vocal breath was giv'n,
An angel heard, and straight appear'd,
Mistaking earth for heaven."
- John Dryden

The feast day of Saint Cecilia, her onomastico, passed almost unnoticed, until, at five minutes to midnight, I realized and celebrated with a crêpe from a popular late-night hole in the wall not five minutes away from my apartment. My brother Alex and my friend Matt were present, and the three of us had just seen a pianist, Mitsuko Uchida, perform at the Teatro Manzoni. The culinary celebration had a dual meaning, as my birthday began at the stroke of midnight. Shamefully though, I wasn't even aware when showing my brother the frescoes of the saint's life some hours earlier that a celebration was in order, though in Italy such things are important, and a feast day is tantamount to nightlong parties and heartfelt gifts. I promised myself that the next day, being my birthday in fact, I would steal into the chapel on Via Zamboni when I had a spare moment and converse with the saint a little. I could read her a letter, or something of the like. Cecilia and I, despite our arguments, have an inexplicable understanding. Finally remembering to wish her well on her day, I could not help feeling guilty for tending to her so little. I had to admit to myself, at this point, that I was hopelessly in love with her.

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    Transfixed in front of her like Pygamalion, awaiting Galatea's transformation, I would read from her history:
    "Cecilia, a virgin of a senatorial family and a Christian from her infancy, was given in marriage by her parents to a noble pagan youth Valerianus. When, after the celebration of the marriage, the couple had retired to the wedding-chamber, Cecilia told Valerianus that she was betrothed to an angel who jealously guarded her body; therefore Valerianus must take care not to violate her virginity. Valerianus wished to see the angel, whereupon Cecilia sent him to the third milestone on the Via Appia where he should meet Bishop (Pope) Urbanus. Valerianus obeyed, was baptized by the pope, and returned a Christian to Cecilia. An angel then appeared to the two and crowned them with roses and lilies."
    Poor Valerianus. He got a raw deal; because of his conversion he was beheaded, and all he got were some roses and lilies.

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    Still, even though I had gone through the whole day, oblivious until the very end that Cecilia was being honoured by Catholics and classical music radio hosts everywhere, I did not fail to think of her. Passing a local shop that repairs string instruments, I was briefly transfixed by what I saw through the window. Inside was a still life of half-finished instruments, one of which was freshly lacquered, surrounded by brushes, stains, and woodworking tools. Here was a chaos of material so primordial it could not even make sound. It reminded me of the bas-de-page of Raphael's painting, the medley of broken instruments which Cecilia steps over confidently as she looks heavenward. Goethe was in ecstasy before that image when he visited Bologna. My brother, who had seen it earlier in the day as I left him off at the gallery in order to go to class, was less impressed. He preferred the gentler works of Francesco Francia, the underrated regional master who exceeded himself in the frescoes of that same saint, the ones I later swore to visit the following day.


Raphael's ecstasy of Saint Cecilia