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The Sex-Crazed Poet Strongman Who (Briefly) Built an Empire The Sex-Crazed Poet Strongman Who (Briefly) Built an Empire
(5 days later)
One hundred years ago this fall, a celebrity showman became a strongman. The womanizing, profligate Italian poet Gabriele d’Annunzio, who had become a hero of World War I by airdropping his own propagandistic poetry over Vienna, marched into the Hapsburg city of Fiume (now Rijeka in Croatia) and declared himself its leader.One hundred years ago this fall, a celebrity showman became a strongman. The womanizing, profligate Italian poet Gabriele d’Annunzio, who had become a hero of World War I by airdropping his own propagandistic poetry over Vienna, marched into the Hapsburg city of Fiume (now Rijeka in Croatia) and declared himself its leader.
Fiume’s postwar status had been in dispute for months. Both the Kingdom of Italy and the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes (later Yugoslavia) claimed the city, which was majority Italian but had a sizable Croatian population. For Italian nationalists, Fiume was part of the “irredenti,” or unredeemed, territories: Italian lands waiting to be claimed by Italians.Fiume’s postwar status had been in dispute for months. Both the Kingdom of Italy and the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes (later Yugoslavia) claimed the city, which was majority Italian but had a sizable Croatian population. For Italian nationalists, Fiume was part of the “irredenti,” or unredeemed, territories: Italian lands waiting to be claimed by Italians.
Enter d’Annunzio. The 56-year-old novelist and poet had already made a name for himself not just as one of Italy’s greatest writers, but also one of its most flamboyant. As a young man he’d earned spare cash writing celebrity gossip columns; in his prime, he used them to cultivate myths about his own history. (For example, in 1911, when the Mona Lisa was briefly stolen from the Louvre, he heavily implied it was at his house.) He spent beyond his means, leaving his wife and children destitute while he collected horses and objets d’art (and cocaine). He had hundreds of love affairs — and would tip off journalists when he was about to break one of them off, in the hope that the subsequent scene would make the tabloids. He lived by the maxim of one of his most famous characters, Andrea Sperelli: “One must make one’s life into a work of art.”Enter d’Annunzio. The 56-year-old novelist and poet had already made a name for himself not just as one of Italy’s greatest writers, but also one of its most flamboyant. As a young man he’d earned spare cash writing celebrity gossip columns; in his prime, he used them to cultivate myths about his own history. (For example, in 1911, when the Mona Lisa was briefly stolen from the Louvre, he heavily implied it was at his house.) He spent beyond his means, leaving his wife and children destitute while he collected horses and objets d’art (and cocaine). He had hundreds of love affairs — and would tip off journalists when he was about to break one of them off, in the hope that the subsequent scene would make the tabloids. He lived by the maxim of one of his most famous characters, Andrea Sperelli: “One must make one’s life into a work of art.”
But it was Italian nationalism that helped d’Annunzio become not merely a celebrity, but “Il Vate,” or The Bard, as his adoring fans called him. The country had been unified just a few decades earlier, and d’Annunzio’s poems envisioned the newborn Kingdom of Italy as the long-awaited inheritor to the great Roman Empire. Civilization, he argued, had become feminized and soft, but in this idealized new Rome, men could become fierce warriors once more. He gave political speeches at ancient ruins, pushing for Italy’s entrance into World War I, demanding that such blood and fire would help “sweep away all the filth!” and birth a new, better, braver order. Admirers would often write such speeches down, parading through the streets with his pages. But other than a short-lived parliamentary tenure, d’Annunzio had never held high office.But it was Italian nationalism that helped d’Annunzio become not merely a celebrity, but “Il Vate,” or The Bard, as his adoring fans called him. The country had been unified just a few decades earlier, and d’Annunzio’s poems envisioned the newborn Kingdom of Italy as the long-awaited inheritor to the great Roman Empire. Civilization, he argued, had become feminized and soft, but in this idealized new Rome, men could become fierce warriors once more. He gave political speeches at ancient ruins, pushing for Italy’s entrance into World War I, demanding that such blood and fire would help “sweep away all the filth!” and birth a new, better, braver order. Admirers would often write such speeches down, parading through the streets with his pages. But other than a short-lived parliamentary tenure, d’Annunzio had never held high office.
Fiume changed all that. On Sept. 12, 1919, flanked by a few black-clad former army buddies, known as “arditi,” d’Annunzio marched on the city — over the exasperated objections of the Italian government. “Ecce homo,” he announced from the governor’s mansion, echoing the words of Pontius Pilate in the Gospel of John when he recognizes that Jesus is the Messiah. D’Annunzio was saying it about himself.Fiume changed all that. On Sept. 12, 1919, flanked by a few black-clad former army buddies, known as “arditi,” d’Annunzio marched on the city — over the exasperated objections of the Italian government. “Ecce homo,” he announced from the governor’s mansion, echoing the words of Pontius Pilate in the Gospel of John when he recognizes that Jesus is the Messiah. D’Annunzio was saying it about himself.
D’Annunzio’s strange, chaotic 15-month rule over the city began. He mandated daily poetry readings, regular concerts and constant fireworks. Soldiers were commanded to celebrate not with the vulgar “hip, hip, hurrah,” but rather the Greek battle cry of Achilles in The Iliad: “Eia eia alalà!” A constitution established an anarcho-syndicalist, corporatist state, in which one of the corporations was designed to represent the superior Übermensch. (D’Annunzio was heavily influenced by Friedrich Nietzsche.) D’Annunzio’s strange, chaotic 15-month rule over the city began. He mandated daily poetry readings, regular concerts and constant fireworks. Soldiers were commanded to celebrate not with the vulgar “hip, hip, hurrah,” but “Eia eia alalà!” — his Italianized interpretation of the Greek battle cry of Achilles in The Iliad. A constitution established an anarcho-syndicalist, corporatist state, in which one of the corporations was designed to represent the superior Übermensch. (D’Annunzio was heavily influenced by Friedrich Nietzsche.)
The city became a haven for all kinds of misfits and miscreants: occultists, vegetarians, futurists, practitioners of free love. Venereal disease outstripped any other malady by a factor of 10. Drug use skyrocketed. Ethnic Croatians were quietly, or not so quietly, expelled. Political opponents were routinely humiliated: The “arditi” pioneered the punitive use of castor oil, a noxious laxative, which they forced their enemies to drink. And d’Annunzio, the “divine leader,” presided over it all.The city became a haven for all kinds of misfits and miscreants: occultists, vegetarians, futurists, practitioners of free love. Venereal disease outstripped any other malady by a factor of 10. Drug use skyrocketed. Ethnic Croatians were quietly, or not so quietly, expelled. Political opponents were routinely humiliated: The “arditi” pioneered the punitive use of castor oil, a noxious laxative, which they forced their enemies to drink. And d’Annunzio, the “divine leader,” presided over it all.
In the end, the Fiume experiment couldn’t last. In Christmas 1920, after 15 months of political indecision, the exasperated Italian government finally retook the city, a feat made much easier by the fact that d’Annunzio’s ramshackle government was already imploding from within. Fiume briefly became a free state, before returning to Yugoslavia in 1924. Still, it’s telling that Italian forces chose to wait until the winter holidays, when the press — d’Annunzio’s greatest ally — would be on break.In the end, the Fiume experiment couldn’t last. In Christmas 1920, after 15 months of political indecision, the exasperated Italian government finally retook the city, a feat made much easier by the fact that d’Annunzio’s ramshackle government was already imploding from within. Fiume briefly became a free state, before returning to Yugoslavia in 1924. Still, it’s telling that Italian forces chose to wait until the winter holidays, when the press — d’Annunzio’s greatest ally — would be on break.
D’Annunzio’s political playbook outlived him. Although he later vocally opposed both Adolf Hitler and his great admirer Benito Mussolini, he had nevertheless laid the aesthetic groundwork for them to follow. The black uniform of the “arditi” was adopted by Mussolini’s Blackshirts (so too their experiments with castor oil).D’Annunzio’s political playbook outlived him. Although he later vocally opposed both Adolf Hitler and his great admirer Benito Mussolini, he had nevertheless laid the aesthetic groundwork for them to follow. The black uniform of the “arditi” was adopted by Mussolini’s Blackshirts (so too their experiments with castor oil).
But it was d’Annunzio’s canny ability to transform politics into an aesthetic — even religious — experience that proved most prescient. His narratives of bygone eras of glory, of virility expressed through violence, whipped an alienated and fractious populace into frenzy. His blithe disregard for truth allowed him to create — unfettered — his own reality. A morally repellent but brilliant man, he recognized that his countrymen’s desire for a modern myth outstripped their more material needs. And he gave them one.But it was d’Annunzio’s canny ability to transform politics into an aesthetic — even religious — experience that proved most prescient. His narratives of bygone eras of glory, of virility expressed through violence, whipped an alienated and fractious populace into frenzy. His blithe disregard for truth allowed him to create — unfettered — his own reality. A morally repellent but brilliant man, he recognized that his countrymen’s desire for a modern myth outstripped their more material needs. And he gave them one.
D’Annunzio’s influence on fascism has made him a controversial figure in Italy: at once lauded for his poetic talent and derided for his politics. (More recently, scholars like Giordano Bruno Guerri, curator of the d’Annunzio house museum, have tried to rescue the poet from association with his later admirers.) But — regardless of what you make of his political affiliation — d’Annunzio is worth remembering. He took the mantra of “life as art” and applied it to the political sphere.D’Annunzio’s influence on fascism has made him a controversial figure in Italy: at once lauded for his poetic talent and derided for his politics. (More recently, scholars like Giordano Bruno Guerri, curator of the d’Annunzio house museum, have tried to rescue the poet from association with his later admirers.) But — regardless of what you make of his political affiliation — d’Annunzio is worth remembering. He took the mantra of “life as art” and applied it to the political sphere.
Tara Isabella Burton is a contributing editor at The American Interest and a columnist at Religion News Service. She is at work on her next book “Strange Rites: New Religions for a Godless World.”Tara Isabella Burton is a contributing editor at The American Interest and a columnist at Religion News Service. She is at work on her next book “Strange Rites: New Religions for a Godless World.”
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