Per quanto mi è dato sapere transita impercettibile nel silenzio quasi assoluto il quarantennale dalla morte di un poeta dimenticato. Angelo Barile, nato ad Albisola Marina nel 1888 e ivi morto nel 1967. Vicino in gioventù alla prima Democrazia Cristiana di Murri, dedicò attenzione ai problemi religiosi (negli anni universitari, importante l’amicizia con il barnabita G. Semeria, portavoce del modernismo). Dopo la laurea in giurisprudenza a Genova frequenta corsi di lettere all’Università di Torino. Partecipò alla prima guerra mondiale come ufficiale di fanteria e tornato dal fronte non si allontanò più da Albisola, attendendo per molti anni alla sua azienda di terraglie. Durante il fascismo era vissuto secluded, but against the regime: he was arrested by the Germans in '43 and only one case survives the shooting. Poet of the youth decided to publish very late in various magazines including 'Solaria', 'Circles', 'Mistral', 'The Title'. Barile only returned to the political after the war, carrying out an intensive public activity as municipal and provincial administrations. Two years before his death in 1965 Vanni Scheiwiller decided to publish a book containing his Poems (1930-1963) (1965) which collects the now unobtainable previous collections Primasera (1933) and Mostly clear (1957) and the addition of the sezione A sole breve che raccoglie le liriche degli ultimi anni. Quest’autore mi piace non solo perché conosco e frequento i luoghi in cui e di cui scrisse, ma per il suo aver saputo essere infinitamente meno vistoso del suo concittadino Tullio Mazzotti (1899-1971) e per non avere avuto, in fondo, nemmeno la vanità di creare un livre . Barile negli anni Trenta come gran parte dei poeti della sua generazione ha letto Blake e ha avvertito
«la necessità di fondere assieme i contrari: intensità e chiarezza, spontaneità e rigore... non è la poesia un equilibrio di resistenze? Il giuoco della libertà più aperta nei termini della legge più rigorosa. Ma come hard, desperately hard to the wedding. Impossible without grace. I felt that poetry is something quite unusual and rare, a gift of intimate transparency. How many times in life we \u200b\u200bare directly meeting? Few - even if - even those who are the best. Hence the usefulness of the vigils and abstinence. I made my own the words, do not forget most of Boine: "You have to let your water, dirt fewer cards, waiting. Let, let simmer, throw it away! that the important things are few and sparse the good things ... that you are not masters of useless things and they are the essential self, they rape us. "
This idea is essential that the work is done by itself, or almost at the expense of the author, "violent" comes straight from the preface to Mostly clear and seems very important. Consistent with these intentions, Barile manufactures its tools to syntactic and verbal scruples almost didactic Pasolini pointed in a "persistent tension" exerted on the tongue to achieve "the miracle of the merger ... sensitivity between subjective and objective presence of the divine. " However Barile labeled as an example of a "desperate and aesthetic Catholicism" marginalizing a suburban area, including pasture-hermetic twilight, which would have condemned virtuosity and indifference to the contents of the history, bracketing its exclusive tension to the "purity". In fact perhaps not understood that Pasolini Barile entrusted 'the huge background of history' to 'the idea of \u200b\u200bever "(as written by Carlo Bo): an idea, or rather, a feeling that he occurred in the newspaper within a crumbling' only privileged setting: the "small country" Ligurian Albisola Marina from which it broke away for the whole of existence, and also why he was able to appear voluntary isolation sheltered from the cultural climate of '9 oo. In fact the barrel was just a witness and protagonist (think just a circle ', the magazine he founded, funded, along with Adriano Great by William Bianchi, see also F. Contorbia, Lucia Rodocanachi. The cards life , Società Editrice Fiorentina, 2006), but it was congenial to the extent reasonable and refinement of feeling which led him to become a point of reference and teaching for many poets. "Judge secret," Bo has always defined at the time of his death and, in fact, everything you did in Rome or Florence between the wars had immediate echoes in the "small workshop" of his home. Needless perhaps to recall the friendship with the peer Sbarbaro, born on the banks of high school and a life term, and the fact that the Montale elect a chief justice of the "scrap" which would later form the nucleus of the primitive Ossi di sepia , perhaps the least known link with Adriano Sansa (Pula 1940) he wrote the preface to Eve (Sabatelli Editore), mayor of Genoa from 1993 to 1997 director of the magazine "Resin" - and author of Suffering and indignation (Scheiwiller) and The Gift of anxiety (New Melangolo).
Primasera
accompany me to the first arm
passing!
Foresto I simulate brother to me.
I lean up all hope of lighter
meetings, I find myself on the shoulders while bending
imagine his head. Now hear this
that grows every day I wish to
hear voices
to shake hands with those who find it, anyone who finds the road, I feel my
fades and soon
sky grows dark. I would
urgency affectionate. From
tired lights Greppi pe'l
dense forest precipitous drop in grades
pierced by calls to the ground floor. The grassy bank
escapes me, the sharp m'afferro
charity of the branches.
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