Posts Tagged ‘Pier Paolo Pasolini’

Annotated Bibliography of Anglophone Articles in Special Issue of Italian Quarterly on Pier Paolo Pasolini

De Lauretis, Teresa. “Language, Representation, Practice: Rereading Pasolini’s Essays On Cinema.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

Pasolini’s film writings  as relevant to the 1980s need for “an understanding of the interrelations or mediations between the systems of determinations embedded in cinema as a social technology (systems of pre-construction of meaning, codes, technical availability and access,) its institutional orders of coherence (various discourses on the cinema,) and practices — social practices as well as practices of cinema” (160.) Pasolini’s insistence on the audiovisual character of cinema; his interest in the engagement of subjectivity in meaning and ideology (160.) Goes over Metz “Cinema: Language or Language System” (1964;) “language without a code” v the double articulation of shot and cinema in PPP’s “Language Of Reality” essay; Eco’s objection that objects in the frame aren’t like phonemes and his “semes, iconic signs and figurae;” PPP’s “ritmea” theory of editing and the shift from linguistic to discursive analysis of cinema (161.) A consideration of PPP’s cinema as the written language of action (and action as the primary human language) From “Language of Reality” (162.) Poetry as “translinguistic” that is always discarding its conventions (163.)  Names Pasolini’s interest in inner-speech and cinema as film theory’s most difficult problem in light of the psychoanalytic Metz. Mentions Salò as example of need to reclaim the iconic for the ideological and the impossibility of simply seeing.  Nice Durasian last line “Ideologize, he said” (165.)

Lawton, Ben. “The Evolving Rejection Of Homosexuality, Sub-proletariat, and the Third World in Pasolini’s Films.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

On The “Abiura.” Pasolini sides with sub-proletariat against bourgeoisie, but is angered and offended when it “does become free of traditional submission” for and against sexual liberation. Contradictions reflect inner conflcits (167.) The sub-proletariate as an early version of PPP’s utopia. Lawton at least understands that Teorema undermines the bourgeois family; shift in Davoli’s roles from undermining the family to exemplifying it.(168.) Salò  as a critique of homosexuality. Rather confused.

MacAfee, Norman. “ ‘I Am A Free Man:’ Pasolini’s Poetry In America.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

PPP’s Italian poems “ civil poems” not hermeticism (99.) Comp to Witman, Pound and Ginsberg. PPP sets example for US poetry in 1980 at a moment of its growth by asserting a central place in society. Interview with Pound from 1968. A version in Ezra Pound In Italy. The end of Salò as ambivalent homage to pound who’s words are said to be the thesis to the image’s antithesis. Salò as “the ultimate post-hermetic poem” (hermeticism as a way of negotiating fascism censorship) PPP told his publisher that if it were shown there would be no more censorship (though this needs to be understood in terms of his critique of permissiveness.) M doesn’t know of post Salò case, but he’s writing in 1980 (100.) M considers P’s homosexuality as something that sets PPP apart “from most ways of thinking that collide with power” (an outsider to the opposition) Reads from “A Desperate Vitality”

Mandelbaum, Allen. “ ‘Ah Mystica/ filogia:’ Rereading Pasolini.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

Pasolini’s declaration of his own bankruptcy “Io? Io sono inaridito e superato” (95) Catholicism said to put “tremendous pressure on the word all” (96) Reads capitalization to suggest that PPP’s poetry populated with personifications “richest in the clash of amore  and ragione.” 96) “Bureaucracy and organization had long since bloated and devalued them” said in PPP’s voice in response to a re-reader who finds they “lack the force of driven apparitions (96) Sees Pasolini’s inventio as blocked (96)  PPP’s fable says :”there was a chance for poltical inventio  that was not realized” (96) Pasolini as a man of the enlightenment “a rejecter of magic payri (97.) Poetic invention is premature, it is not because history is over, but because it has not yet begun” (97.) Pasolini asks, “when will the periphery become the center? And can the poet ever abandon his role as protagonist of the periphery without falling into banality?” (97) PPP’s gods those of “the unhoused and the ineluctable place (98.) “In a world of English and Russian, Rome becomes linguistic romance. It does not preside over its sub-proletariat, Friulian, Provebçal, the swarm of emarginated tongues — it joins them. But it joins them as a yet — and necessarily — imperfect instrument” (98) no “hypersigns” for PPP no ares grammatical. Comparison to Lukàcs’ awareness of predecessors and successors.

Marcus, Millicent. “ The Decameron:  Pasolini As Reader of Boccaacio.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

Pasolini’s film as platonic “imitation” of the Boccaccio (177.) Pasolini not only reacting to text, but to its Italian reception over 6 centuries [similar to PPP’s understanding of his use of early renaissance paintings as Christology in Il vangelo] (177-8.) Pasolini’s dispensing of frame story and blurring of the frames between tales as denial of formal satisfaction (178.) Pasolini as critic of Boccaccio’s scholasticism, which was obsolete in his own time and emphasizes distance of mideval text (178.) Pasolini plays Boccaccio and elaborates thereby a metafilm (179.)

Odlcorn, Anthony. “Pasolini and The City: Rome 1950 A DiaryItalian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

On Pasolini’s Roman Poems. Starts with Pasolini’s flight from Friuli after charges of “corruption of minors and obscene acts in a public place” (107;) expulsion from Communist Party; family background. Circumstances of arrival in Rome (108;) Gets to Roma 1950, diario on 109. Verse journal published in a 1960 limited edition. “Chronicles the poet’s state of mind in moments of rest from servile work” (109;) 11 syllable lines (11-28 of them) written in Standard Italian. PPP avoids “all undue emphasis and sublimity of diction;” uses a “bleached voice;” uses “deliberate understatement to the limits of banality” (109.) O cites Eldridge clever (to describe the poetic tradition of Roma 1950 “not part of the solution but part of the problem” (110.)  sense of physical confinement in poems “corresponds to the poet’s moral entrapment in a system and a discourse not of his own making” (110.) No “transvaulation of values” only extension of “those categories to accommodate moral phenomena they were never meant to embrace” (110.)n Failure to recognize that “by bourgeois standards, homosexuality was a qualitative, and not simply a quantitative transgression” (110.) Calls the poems a “Petrachan reaction” to PPP’s situation (110.) PPP casts himself as crucified Christ, but not as subversively as he later would (110.) Rejection of hermeticism; shared with neorealist poets (but notes that PPP had few sympathies with them; close to Cesare Pavese (Poem #1 “An Adult? Never! — Never; like existence / that does not ripen” in reject of hermeticism. seen as response to the epigraph of Pavese’s last novel La luna e I falò [The Moon And The Bonfires. R.W. Flint, trans.] “Ripeness is All.” (King Lear)) Giuseppe Ungaretti as influence (111;) Clemete Rebora, Camillo Sbarbaro (111.) Volume “a womb without much of a view. The city is outside, a backdrop, heard rather than seen” [“heard rather than seen might be an interesting way to think certain of PPP’s movie soundtracks] (111.) Translations of the Poems and the originals on pages 113-118.

Procaccini, Alfonso. “Pasolini, the Truant Realist.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

Attempts to read Pasolini’s work as asking “what it means to be intellectually provocative” (121) Focuses on Ragazzi di vita.  Ragazzi’s scandal prefigures “more noted, yet less notorious” La dolce vita scandal. The 2 are “the most discordant notes of an Italian overture that will by 1968 substitute real gun fire for the conventional blank shot of cannons.” (dude, come on…) wants to include Accatone’s scandal here, but it had less impact (121.) The Fellini is provocative, the Pasolini provoking (122,) meaning: Ldv was sold as a scandal and catharsis. Rdv collapses the reader’s distance and denies catharsis (122.) Rdv meets the criteria for realist lit, but not its function. Not Hegel’s “epic of the middle class” or a commodity (122.) Not about the ‘mal ontologique” of the bourgeois world (123.) None of Lukacs’ “virile maturity” (123.) A “no alternative” motif dominates the whole of Rdv (123.)  “His message appears to be that to cross the threshold is a futile step” (123.) [Like MR crying while watching Etore work near the center in Mamma Roma.] For PPP “there is no such thing as an Italian language which is ‘national,’ that is a language which embraces the splintered and fragmented sectors of what constitutes Italy as a nation” (124.) Paraphrases material from “Comments on the Free Indirect” on high, middle, and low language, as well as the ideological effects of the centrifugal of the dominant language. Claims Rdv rejects “discorso indiretto libro which AP calls “objective correlative” and is an example of direct discourse [can’t agree] (125.)  Pasolini speaks from “within the outside experience” and this is not a “scientific position” as in Verismo  (125.) This displaces the reader to the margin (125.) Claims that Pasolini does not use the “analogical” level of meaning in Dante’s scheme [which is strange since PPP says otherwise, perhaps not an analogy between the characters and the “universal problem of the everyman, but analogy none the less.] (125.)  Despite claim of non-analogy, claims that characters represent their class (125-6.)  “In Gramscian terms Pasolini defies both the traditional as well as the organic approach” (126.)

Schwartz, Barth David. “Why Americans Will Never Understand Pasolini.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

An utterly useless screed pointing out that Pasolini is difficult to understand in the US because Italian cultural history is different and complex. Fears that popularizing Pasolini would result in dorm room posters of him next to “Che Guevara and Bob Dylan.” Some OK sketches information about the Italian context, but there better ways to get it.

Weaver, William. “Il Primo Pasolini Tradotto.” Italian Quarterly XXI N 82 – XXII N. 83. Fall 1980-Winter 1981.

An account of Weavers exchanges with Pasolini while translating “L’appennio.” Weaver makes mistakes in Italian and Pasolini translates them in mistaken English. Fairly amusing.


Notes on Il vangelo secondo Matteo for possible paragraph in Trilogia Della Vita & Salò chapter in Cinema And The Meaning [strikethrough] Of “Life”

Il vangelo secondo Matteo (1964,) establishes Pier Paolo Pasolini’s full genealogical technique in cinematic form,[1] but he does not release its full power until the Quartet Of Life And Death (1971-1975.)  Il vangelo’s genealogy presents Jesus’s subjectivity as an actual revolutionary possibility within mid-1960s neoliberalism. Because Pasolini has not yet discovered the potentialzing effects of the incompossible chronotopes that he will develop in his films from Edipo Re (1967) and Porcile (1969,) the film does not attempt to intervene in its audiences’ life-world by introducing a virtual potential. While the Quartet’s films have quasi unified times and spaces, they produce sexualities as queered potentials through a process of an-aesthetic historization which renders impossible the normal articulations between the films’ chrontopes and the lives of their publics.

In addition to the genealogical techniques at work in his earlier films, Il vangelo adapts a narrative from a pre-capitalist[2] period and articulates references to historical artworks as a pre-textual free-indirect. The film denaturalizes the pacific, religious, Catholic image of Jesus in order to mobilize an angry, revolutionary Christ — a project requiring Pasolini’s full arsenal of genealogical weapons.

According to Pasolini, the free-indirect drives forward the leading edge of cinema, literature and expressive production in general (Cinema of Poetry, 175.) He understood the most advanced cinema, the “cinema of poetry,” as nothing other than a free-indirect cinema. That figure of speech structured Pasolini’s own ouvre across multiple genres from the very beginnings of career as a poet. In verse, prose, and movies, Pasolini merged the languages and images of others with his own, creating new, collective, revolutionary subjectivities.

Pasolini released Il vangelo and published a text on Giulio Herezeg’s Lo Stile indretto libero in italiano in the same year, 1964. The article, entitled “Comments on Free-indirect Discourse” makes a major contribution to the theory of free-indirect discourse initiated by Charles Bally, moving through V. N. Volosinov and beyond Pasolini to Gilles Deleuze[3]. Pasolini’s essay establishes that free-indirect discourse appears in multiple forms, bourgeois and otherwise; that it can generate new collective subjectivities; and shows that the free-indirect can be conceived of in extra-linguistic forms.

The year after releasing Il vangelo, Pasolini published “The Cinema Of Poetry,” which argues that poetry, understood as a capacity for the free-indirect, drives the development of language and reanimates the historically determined subjectivities of those who have used it. The article defines an eponymous corpus of movies in terms of their use of free-indirect images. Pasolini emphasizes the “pretextual” free-indirect, a mode in which a subjective inflection conditions all, or almost all, of the a film’s images, starting before the first shot. He notes that directors sometimes employ that mode as a pretext to substitute their own vision for that of a character, for example Antonioni in Desert Rosso (1964) (Cinema Of Poetry, 180.) That version of the free-indirect can function as a pretext, in the ordinary sense of an excuse or alibi, for a bourgeois monologue, another can also function as a  “pre-text” in the sense of a collective and sometimes institutional layer of reported expression or perception that precedes and extends beyond the text in which it appears (181.)

The link forged by Pasolini between poetry and free-indirect speech follows from his own poetic style.[4] His first published poems, written in a fusion of Friulian dialects and his own standardized Italian tongue, created a language that never existed, yet was grounded in his ethno-linguistic bicycling adventures of the late 1940s. The language Pasolini invented carried with it the consciousness of all those from whom he collected phrases and called forth a virtual People. Pasolini’s Friulian poems were in a fee indirect, reporting speech from various towns dominated by the agricultural proletariat, each with its own sub-dialect, and fusing them with dominant Italian. In doing so, Pasolini was embraced a “sociological awareness of the environment that he evokes” (“Cinema of Poetry” 175.) His early poems express Friulian regionalism as the product of linguistic conflict by gathering various collective subjectivities and languages into a whole whose words form a composition while sounding class and regional differences.

In his first films, Pasolini used both variations on optical point of view associated with character vision and art-historical references to generate moments of cinematic free-indirect[5]. In certain painterly citations, Pasolini reproduced compositions from a single painting such as Jacopo Pontormo’s 1525-8 Deposition Of Christ in La Ricotta. More often, Pasolini cited elements of various historically related paintings and combine them in a single image.  According to Pasolini, the citation of Andrea Mantegna’s Lamentation Of Christ (c. 1480) at the end of Mamma Roma doesn’t just portray Ettore’s death through a single painting, it also summarizes a complex history of earlier baroque painting through its use of chiaroscuro[6]. These citations don’t primarily serve to beautify his films or to create some other visual effect, they function as traces of material culture. The Gian Lorenzo Bernini sculpture (1668?) on the bridge in Accattone doesn’t primarily function as a metaphor for the main character, or to beautify the mis-en-scene, it maps a fact about the history of urban development in Rome[7].

In Il Vangelo, Pasolini uses “generic references[8]” to early Renaissance painting to construct a pre-textual free-indirect which extends throughout and beyond the film, expressing the institutionalized subjectivity of the collective visual memory[9] of the reception of Christianity. The image of ancient Palestine appears to us through the lens of 15th century Italian painting. For example, anyone who has seen Piero della Francesca’s Discovery and Proof of the True Cross (c.1640) will recognize the millinery stylings of the Pharisees from Il vangelo.

Pasolini’s film can be seen as a series of citations of Italian paintings mainly produced between the 15th and early 16th centuries.  Mark Weis has remarked that Paoslini’s use of renaissance painting includes Roberto Longhi in the free-indirect chorus. The shots of Jesus’ baptism bring into play what Longhi called Piero della Franceca’s  spaces of “free assembly” and portray the social not as a collection of individuals, but as a  paratactic totality, (56-7.) Even the handheld, documentary style shots[10] contribute to a free-direct through their articulation of a space similar to that painted by Caravaggio (Weis 59-60.)   In 1968, Pasolini told interviewer Oswald Stack that he had “wanted to do the story of Christ plus 2000 years of Christianity. At least for an Italian like me painting has enormous importance in these two thousand years, indeed it is the major element in the Christological tradition” (Stack, 91.)

In order to allow the chorus of Matthew’s text and citations of early renaissance paintings to sing of Pasolini’s present. Pasolini used locations in southern Italy as analogs[11] for biblical Palestine.  As Maurizio Viani points out, both the Palestine of Christ’s time and Southern Italy were colonies of Rome[12] (137.) For Sam Rhodie, The two areas constitute each other’s past and future: “Calabria now is what Palestine was … Palestine now is what Calabria will become” (164.)  Pasolini also dressed the Roman soldiers in the scene of Christ’s sermon at Gethsemane like Italian riot police from his own time and Herod’s soldiers at the slaughter of the innocents as ”fascist hoods.”[13] Those decisions contribute to the passage of the film’s political constellation into the time of its initial audiences. In order to give voice to the class structure of 1960s Italy, Pasolini cast agricultural workers and members of the sub-proletariat as poor characters and used intellectuals and artists to play characters from more privileged backgrounds. The southern Italian landscape and the faces of the bodies of the extras from the region form another pretextual layer of free-indirect within the film, addressing Christ’s revolutionary drive, depicted as a trans-historical possibility,  to the time of the film’s release[14].

These historical, institutional layers of free-indirect images[15] in the film function as matrices that generate the subjectivities of characters within the diegesis. The renaissance free-indirect differentiates itself into processes of subjectification through portrait-like shots edited into point of view clusters, as shown in these sequential images of Salome and Herodiade exchanging looks with Herod.

In such shot pairs, direct depictions of the subjective perception of 2 or more characters emerge in the free-indirect of 15th century painting. The film viewer can distinguish at least three levels: the subjectivities of the characters in the shot-pair, that of the renaissance series, and the agency narrating the film as a whole. Il vangelo’s narration demonstrates that the subjectivity of characters develops as they perceive a combination of the Gospel setting, the historical traces in the painting citations, and the landscape of 1960 Southern Italy.

Sometimes Pasolini renders subjective becomings through shot counter-shot pairs similar to those used to depict conversations in the classical cinema, but he also uses a variety of other structures. In some examples, a shot of a character looking precedes or follows clusters of often-mobile shots framing social landscapes. The characters in the social landscapes look back at the primary seer, producing yet more filigreed differentiation within Il vangelo’s scheme of subjectification. The thoroughly secular technique of pretextual free-indirect allows Pasolini to articulate social conflicts that lead to militancy.

The shots of character’s faces can reveal a character’s affect while establishing that a character’s glance. Discussing Il vangelo’s facial close ups, Bernard Schwenk (42) writes that “the viewer reads arrogance and self satisfaction in the silent faces closed off like masks, recognizes hope and the wisdom of age in the furrowed expressions of old people, and is confronted with the faces of the peasant youths, which reflect a readiness for violence and raw sensuality.” In the scenes of conversations or monologues, the audience perceives the expressions on the characters faces along with the characters themselves. For example, when the magi start on their journey to Bethlehem, the camera establishes the glance of the three kings at the crowd that has come to greet them and then the film cuts to shots of groups within the assembly with expressions varying from joyous awe to class resentment. The shots of the crowd mimics the glance of the magi looking at the assembly looking at them. Socially distinct groups look at each other.

Il vangelo produces their variegated subjectivities within the institutional free-indirect structures of Matthew’s text, earl renaissance painting, 1960s southern Italy etc., so that the institutional free-indirect layers fuse in order to differentiate into free-indirect expressions of group or individual subjectivity. The layers of free-indirect in Il vangelo never separate the consciousness of single characters or small groups from institutional, collective memory. The more differentiated subjectivities become poles along a continuum with the less differentiated institutional subjectivities without ever fully separating from them.

The depiction of miracles also form a free-indirect, that of a “believer through whom[16]” Pasolini sees Christ.  The form part of the “subjective reality” of the film.[17] The film renders many of them through variations of Jesus’s optical point of view so that his progressive subjectification entwines with the other free-indirect material.

Nothing holy can remain so when concatenated in a cause and event chain — least of all divine consciousness. By the time of his baptism, Pasolini’s Jesus had developed an animus against the state and the rich stronger than John the Baptist’s hatred of the powerful because, from the time of his birth, he had witnessed Power’s brutality toward Mary and Joseph. Up until the obligatory happy ending of the Gospel, Pasolini portrays almost every appearance of the miraculous ambiguously, so that it can be seen as part of the ordinary course of things. For example, Gabriel only appears to Joseph while he is asleep so that the audience might think that he dreams of the angel.

By showing us series of perceptions bearing multiple historical traces producing the subjectivities of the characters, Pasolini secularizes them so that they might serve the revolution. The film shows the audience the characters’ acts of perception through various forms of historical free-indirect images in part to bring out the common, or analogous structures of the world’s conditions that stretch from Matthew’s narrative to Italy in the mid 1960’s. Il vangelo’s  exquisitely filigreed imbrication of free-indirects extends the film’s secular revolutionary impetus from Biblical Palestine through lived time unto our Pasolini’s present. The film seeks to convert a possibility in Matthews gospel into a contemporaneous actuality, namely Jesus’s desire to “bring division,” and set “a man against his father, a daughter against her mother[18]” (M, 10,34.) In other, too pat, words, the film attempted to let a trans-historical construction of revolutionary drive inform something like a Gramscian national popular movie. Pasolini had not yet emphasized the difference between the historical-diegetic modes of production and economic circulation and those of the present the film addressed so that the films intervention too the form of a force of legitimate social hatred[19] that promised to play itself out quasi-mechanically. The Trilogia de vita, sought to intervene in it’s audience’s life worlds by offering a potential.

Works Cited

Allen, Joseph Henry and James Bradstreet Greenough New Latin Grammar for Scholars and Colleges. Boston. Gwinn and Company. 1916.

Pier Paolo Pasolini. “Notes on Free-indirect Discourse.” In Heretical Empiricism. Ben Lawton and Louise K. Barnett Trans. New Academia Publishing. Washington, DC. 2005.

Pier Paolo Pasolini. “The ‘Cinema of Poetry.’” In Heretical Empiricism. Ben Lawton and Louise K. Barnett Trans. New Academia Publishing. Washington, DC. 2005.

—— “Comments on Free-indirect Discourse.” In Heretical Empiricism. Ben Lawton and Louise K. Barnett Trans. New Academia Publishing. Washington, DC. 2005.

Rhodes, John David. “Pasolini’s Exquisite Flowers: The Cinema of Poetry as a Theory of Art Cinema.” In Global Art Cinema Rosalind Galt and Karl Schoonover, Eds. Oxford University Press. New York 2010.

—— Stupendous Miserable City: Pasolini’s Rome. University Of Minnesota Press.  Minneapolis. 2007.

Schwenk, Bernard. “The Chosen Image: Pasolini’s Aesthetics of the Drawn-Out Moment.” Schwenk, Bernard and Michael Semff eds. Pier Paolo Pasolini and Death. Hatje Cantz. Munich. 2006.

Schwartz, Bath David. Pasolini Requiem. Pantheon Books. New York. 1992.

Schwartz, Louis-Georges. “Typewriter: Free-indirect Discourse in Deleuze’s Cinema.” SubStance, Vol..34, no. 3, 2005.

Stack, Oswald. Pasolini On Pasolini: Interviews with Oswald Stack. Bloomington. Indiana University Press. 1969.

Testa, Bart.  “To Film a Gospel … and Advent of the Theoretical Stranger.” In Pier Paolo Pasolini: Contemporary Perspectives. Patrick Rimble and Bart Testa, Eds. University  of Toronto Press. Toronto. 1994.

Viano, Maurizio.  A Certain Realism: Making Use of Pasolini’s Film Theory and Practice. University of California Press. Los Angeles. 1993.

Weis, Marc. “Slide Show Inspiration: On the Effects if Roberto Longhi’s Interpretation of Art on Pasolini.” In Schwenk, Bernard and Michael Semff eds. Pier Paolo Pasolini and Death. Hatje Cantz. Munich. 2006.

[1] The full chapter will establish PPP’s genealogical method and it’s influence on Giorgio Agamben. Leland De la Durantaye (in Agamben: A Critical Introduction Pages 21, 32-3,)Daniel Morris (in an article in Book Forum,) Brian Dillon (in an article in Frieze,) Giancarlo Macaluso, ( and Jaleh Mansoor (in conversation) have pointed out, one need not interpret Agamben’s appearance as the Apostle Phillip in Il vangelo as a historical coincidence. Agamben would go on to become the exemplary twenty-first century  genealogist.


[2] On the “pretextual” free-indirect see Paoslini’s “Notes on Free-indirect Discourse” and “Cinema of Poetry.”

[3] For an analysis of the development of the theory of Free-indirect Discourse, see my article “Typewriter: Free-indirect Discourse in Deleuze’s Cinema.”

[4] In 1966, certain filmmakers and critics, were flabbergasted by Pasolini’s use of the word “poetry” and particularly the term “cinema of poetry.” Pasolini appeared on a panel at the New York Film Festival (which had screened Uccellacci e unccellini (1966,)) with Agnes Varda, Annette Michelson, Andrew Saris, René allio. Michelson in particular attacked Pasolini’s use of the term poetry. She was under the influence of a more or less official monological account of modernism that understood poetry as privileging a metaphorical axis. Like other speakers at the festival who held such a view, P. Adams Sitney, Parker Tyler, and Ken Kelman, she was not a practicing poet and sought to use the term poetry only in order to praise the so-called “American Avant-Guard” and its empty formalism. (See John David Rohdes’ “Pasolini’s Exquisite Flowers: The Cinema Of Poetry as a Theory of art Cinema.”)

[5] The most fundamental disarticulation of optical point of view, resulting in a fusion between character vision and that of the film itself in Momma Roma has been best analyzed in Stupendous, Miserable City. See the passages in chapter 5 on the sequences of Etore and his mother entering the housing projects they live in and the descriptions of the shot of the view of central Rome from their apartment window.

[6] See Barth David Schwartz’s Pasolini Requiem, page 398.

[7] See John David Rhodes’ Stupendous Miserable City: Pasolini’s Rome, pages 42-48.

[8] Con Pier Paolo Pasolini pp. 70-71, cited in Greene, p. 74

[9] Schwenk uses the term “collective memory” to refer to Pasolini’s free-indirect citation of paintings, page 42.

[10] Greene points out that Pasolini replaced the short lenses of Accattone and with long focal length lenses in Il vangelo and that Comizi d’amore foreshadows the handheld documentary technique (75.)

[11] Sam Rodie works the notion that Pasolini’s films function as analogs particularly hard in his book The Passion of Pier Paolo Pasolini. He takes the word from Pasolini, who told Oswald Stack that he remade “the Gospel by analogy” and uses the word “analog” (82) through out the interview.

[12] Rhodes gives the best sketch of the complexity and precision of Pasolini’s figuration of contemporaneous Southern Italy in Il vangelo.  He points out that the locations should be understood in relation to Carlo Levi’s Christ Stopped At Eboli  who’s title suggests that Matera, where Pasolini shot much of Il vangelo, was too wretched for Christ to visit and most importantly that Matera was the cite of the La Martella housing project where residents of the Sassi were relocated. Its presence marks the film’s off screen space, continuing Pasolini’s interest in public housing and urbanism by other means (Stupendous, Miserable City: Pasolini’s Rome, pages 141-142.)

[13] Pasolini, Uccellacci e uccellini, cited in Greene, page 76.

[14] Rohdie points to the sound track as another layer of free-indirect and specifically to the blues and gospel songs in Il Vangelo  as the voice of a sub-proletariat involved actively involved in an insurrection in the early 1960s.

[15] Suggestively, Pasolini starts his “Comments on Free-indirect Discourse” with a consideration of the “historical infinitive,” a term he attributes to Alf Lombard, but which has also been used by Latin grammarians such as Joseph Henry Allen, James Bradstreet Greenough (in New Latin Grammar for Scholars and Colleges. Boston. Gwinn and Company. 1916.) The “historical infinitive” combines the speech of the author with that of the speaker and combines their “sociological and psychological modifications” establishing “norms and intentions … in a choral way.;” the examples of the historical infinitive Pasolini finds in Herczeg aren’t just those of an “individualized character, but of a typical speaker, representative of a whole category of speakers, thus of milieu, even a people.”  He calls this choral form “epic,” meaning a “discourse reanimated collectively” (81.) Pasolini explicitly links this form of free-indirect to “class consciousness in the history of Marx.”   This valance of the word epic has often been missed by those who emphasize his use of the word to describe his films (“Notes,” page 79.)

[16] Duflot Entretiens, cited in Greene (74.)

[17] Conversation with Sartre in “Cristo e il Marxismo” p 26, cited in Greene p. 74

[18] For the importance of this passage for Paoslini’s see Viano, page 132. Viano notes that the film succeed in dividing Pasolini’s Italy by forcing audiences to take a stand on the film.

[19] Viano 144.

“La grandezza di Pasolini: sapeva vedere più lontano” by Franco Berardi AKA Bifo

Liberazione 15 ottobre 2005 (via

Negli anni dell’adolescenza avevo visto “Il Vangelo secondo Matteo” e “Teorema”, ma Pier Paolo Pasolini irruppe nel mio immaginario di diciottenne solo nel 1968, quando L’Espresso pubblicò la famosa poesia sulla battaglia di Valle Giulia, quella in cui prende le difese del poliziotto contro lo studente contestatore figlio di papà.

Con le categorie di cui disponevo allora etichettai spregiativamente Pasolini come populista, pur subendo il fascino del suo coraggio intellettuale, e del suo anticonformismo. Nel 1974 leggevo le lettere a Gennariello che Pasolini pubblicava sul Corriere della sera. Erano lettere a un mitico ragazzino dell’Italia autentica che stava scomparendo, lettere con cui il poeta voleva salvare l’autenticità di un’anima popolare immaginaria. Lo leggevo e mi era antipatico. Quell’uomo taciturno e schivo mi affascinava, però lo sentivo lontano, giudice arcigno di una realtà che a me appariva invece carica di possibilità.

C’era nei suoi scritti l’asprezza di chi si sente tradito dall’incedere caotico di fenomeni innovativi nel costume, nella tecnologia, nell’immaginario. E c’era la nostalgia di un tempo mitologico, di un passato di immaginaria integrità. La modernità lo irritava. E soprattutto (questo era ciò che più gli rimproveravo in cuor mio) non voleva vedere come dentro i comportamenti giovanili era all’opera una mutazione eterogenea, differenziata, aperta ad esiti molteplici e imprevedibili.

Pasolini vedeva emergere un nuovo fascismo dal mutamento tecnologico, dalla mutazione antropologica che si delineava con la diffusione della televisione e dei consumi di massa.

«Il fascismo – scriveva Pasolini in un articolo uscito sul Corriere nel dicembre del 1973 – non è stato sostanzialmente in grado nemmeno di scalfire l’anima del popolo italiano: il nuovo fascismo, attraverso i nuovi mezzi di comunicazione e di informazione (specie la televisione) non solo l’ha scalfita, ma l’ha lacerata, violata, bruttata per sempre».

La nostalgia umanistica di Pasolini aveva molti elementi in comune con lo stile di pensiero che proveniva dalla Scuola di Francoforte (soprattutto da Herbert Marcuse che in quegli anni era molto letto). La prospettiva dei francofortesi mostrava una società integrata, dominata dai modelli di consumo omologati, incapace di reazione politica e culturale. 

Ma la mia generazione stava vivendo un’esperienza molto diversa da quella che i teorici dell’integrazione neocapitalista andavano descrivendo: l’esperienza di una rottura del conformismo consumista, lo sgretolamento dell’omogeneità sociale, l’emergere di lotte autonome dei giovani operai. Laddove i francofortesi vedevano l’affermarsi di un materialismo omologante, Tronti vedeva formarsi «una rude razza pagana senza fede senza ideali senza illusioni» che avrebbe condotto l’attacco contro lo sfruttamento e in questo modo svelato il carattere disumano della mercificazione. 

Tronti contro Marcuse: queste erano le coordinate del mio orientarmi nel pensiero politico di allora. 

Una questione simile ritrovavo nel dibattito letterario italiano di quegli anni che opponeva a Pasolini gli scrittori della neoavanguardia sperimentale. Balestrini, Eco, Pagliarani, Barilli cercavano di cogliere nell’innovazione sociale ed estetica del neocapitalismo una potenzialità, una biforcazione possibile. 

Si stava riproponendo per certi aspetti la discussione che qualche decennio prima aveva opposto Benjamin ad Adorno, dove il primo cercava nelle nuove tecnologie di comunicazione potenzialità e risorse che il secondo considerava cancellate dalla massificazione, dalla perdita di aura. Perciò in quei primi anni Settanta vedevo Pasolini come il nostalgico di un’epoca passata, un coraggioso stimolante affascinante reazionario. 

Non mi pento, sia ben chiaro, di quella mia lettura giovanile. Avevo capito qualcosa, ma non avevo capito l’essenziale. Ho cominciato a capire l’essenziale di Pasolini dopo il ’77, dopo l’esplosione del movimento di quello che noi chiamavamo allora proletariato giovanile. Quel movimento aveva in un certo senso cercato di rovesciare la sua visione. Noi partivamo proprio da quelle forme di vita che Pasolini considerava “fasciste”, omologanti, partivamo da forme di vita che altri condannavano come barbariche, perché in quella barbarie cercavamo di introdurre l’ironia e l’autonomia e la critica pratica. Volevamo collegare l’energia barbarica di quello che il movimento operaio etichettava come sottoproletariato alle lotte autonome degli operai. Volevamo fare della letteratura un gioco selvaggio di liberazione della creatività. 

Al consumismo avevamo reagito con l’idea di una riappropriazione felice ed ironica delle merci, piuttosto che condannarlo in nome di qualche passatista integrità. In questo senso eravamo sullo stesso terreno di Pasolini, ma al suo Gennariello non dicevamo: rimani antico se vuoi essere umano. Dicevamo piuttosto: sfida la modernità per tirarne fuori nuovi orizzonti di umanità. 

Poi le cose sono andate come sono andate. Non tutte nel verso che avevamo pensato noi. E dopo il ’77 la mia prospettiva si è poco alla volta modificata. Ho cominciato a capire una cosa che prima mi era sfuggita, e invece era fondamentale: lo sguardo di Pasolini non era quello del critico politico, ma era lo sguardo lungo dell’antropologo. Quella che lui intravedeva era una mutazione più lunga e più profonda di quella su cui avevamo posto lo sguardo noi. Non voglio dire che lui avesse ragione e noi torto, avevamo visto facce diverse dello stesso processo. Pasolini aveva capito con anticipo che la potenza della mutazione tecnologica era destinata a prevalere sulle culture libertarie ed egualitarie che effettivamente costituivano il punto di arrivo dell’intera tradizione umanistica. 

Pasolini si era messo in questo modo fuori tempo, ma purtroppo quel suo fuori tempo significava un anzitempo. Aveva capito che di fronte all’incedere della mediatizzazione accade qualcosa che concerne il sensorio umano, il rapporto tra immaginario e immaginazione, e che in questa mutazione la politica non c’entra molto, l’azione volontaria può non essere efficace, e aveva presentito l’emarginazione di cui l’intellettuale era destinato a diventare vittima. Aveva presentito molto dell’epoca presente. 

Nel 2000, in occasione del venticinquennale della morte di Pasolini, il regista Guido Chiesa realizzò un filmato che andò in onda su Telepiù, intitolato “Provini per un massacro”. Un certo numero di ragazzi si presentavano davanti alla telecamera per un provino per un film su Pier Paolo Pasolini, e a ciascuno di loro veniva chiesto se avrebbero accettato di fare scene disgustose, come mangiare merda e mostrarsi in atteggiamenti non proprio dignitosi. Le risposte dei ragazzi erano la migliore (la più disperante) conferma immaginabile alla previsione dello scrittore. Conformismo, perbenismo, insicurezza si mescolavano con il servilismo nei confronti del potere (rappresentato dalla telecamera), con l’ipocrita disponibilità a fare qualsiasi cosa se si tratta di lavoro, se si tratta di televisione, se si tratta di guadagnare un po’ di denaro e di apparire un po’. Il film di Guido Chiesa (che purtroppo è passato un po’ sotto silenzio e meriterebbe di essere rivisto) vien fuori come un discorso lucido e senza molte speranze sulla prima generazione postumana. Ma chi siamo noi, uomini del ventesimo secolo, uomini del passato, per giudicare l’imprevedibile che dal postumano è destinato a venire?

An Incomplete Annotated Anglophone Pasolini Bibliography (Part :1 Books)

January 7, 2012 2 comments

Works By Pier Paolo Pasolini in English Translation in book form

Heretical Empiricism. Ben Lawton and Louise K. Barnett Trans. New Academia Publishing. Washington, DC. 2005. Translations from Empirismo eretico. Aldo Garsanti Editore. 1972.

Linguistics, Literary Criticism, Film Theory. Revised (2005 edition includes “Repudiation of Trilogy of Life” written as an introduction to the publication of the screenplays in 1975.)

In Danger. Jack Hirschman Ed. City Lights Press. San Francisco. 2010

Anthology. Poetry, Literary Criticism, Political Essays, Interviews. Translators include Jonathan Richmond, formerly of the modern lovers.

Petrolio. Anna Goldstein, Trans. Pantheon Books. New York. 1997. “Unfinished” Novel.

Pier Paolo Pasolini: Poems. Norman MacAfee, Trans. Ed. Far, Strauss Giroux. New York. 1982. Selections from Le ceneri di Gramsci, including the eponymous poem; La religione del mio tempo; Poesia in forma di rosa; Trasumanar e organizzar (from all of Pasolini’s non-self published  poetry books from 1957-1971 except L’usignolo della chiesa cattolica.)

Roman Nights And Other Stories. John Shepley. The Marlboro Press. Marlboro Vermont. 1986. Stories from Alì Dagli Occhi Azzuri (1965)

Roman Poems. Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Francesca Valente, Trans. City Lights Books. San Francisco. 1986. Preface by Alberto Moravia. Includes poems from of Le ceneri di Gramsci.

Theorem. Stuart Hood, Trans. Quartet Books. London 1992. Translation of Teorema (1968 novel.)

A Violent Life. William Weaver, trans. Carcanet. Manchester, UK. 2007. Translation of  Una Vita Violenta. Aldo Garsanti Editore. 1972. Novel.

Books on Pier Paolo Pasolini in English:

Acker, Kathy. My Death My Life by Pier Paolo Pasolini. In Literal Maddness. Grove Press. New York. 1987. “Experimental” “fiction” very useful. Develops a queer and poetic context for Pasolini. Focuses on his death.

Friedrich, Pia. Pier Paolo Pasolini. Twayne Publishers. Boston. 1982. Two chapters of intellectual biography. Chapters on the posthumous works, Le meglio ginoventù (1954 edition of the complete Friulian poems;) Ragazzi di vita; Le ceneri di Gramsci; Teorema; Manifesto per un nuovo teatro” and  Orgia (play staged in 1968;) and Pasolini’s last poems. Special attention paid to style and ideology.

Gordon, Robert C. Pasolini: Forms of Subjectivity. Clarendon Press. 1966. Sections on Pasolini’s journalism, poems, cinema, and Petrolio (unfinished novel.). Each section takes its object as an expression of a fragment of Pasolini’s subjectivity.

Greene. Naomi. Pier Paolo Pasolini: Cinema As Heresy. Princeton University Press. Princeton. 1990. Chapters on Pasolini in Casara, his move to Rome and his relationship to the cinema; Accattone, Mamma Romai and the neo-realist inheritance; the “end of ideology” in Le cenri di Gramsci, Uccellacci e Ucellini, La Religione del mio tempo, La ricotta and Comizi d’amore and Il Vangelo secondo Matteo; Pasolini’s film theory; myth in Pasolini’s films after Uccellacci e Ucellini; the Trilogia della vita, Salò o le 120 gionate di Sodoma.  eros and the rise of the ultra left in 70s Italy.

Maggi, Armando. The Resurrection Of The Body: Pier Paolo Pasolini From Saint Paul to Sade. University Of Chicago Press. Chicago. 2009. Pasolini as ambassador from Sodom, the “land of total destruction,” with attention to “the internal logic of his artistic expression.” Chapters on Saint Paul (unfilmed screenplay;)Porno-Theo-Colossal (unfilmed screenplay;) Petrolio, (unfinished novel;) and Salò o le 120 gionate di Sodoma.

Peterson, Thomas Earling. The Paraphrase Of An Imaginary Dialogue: The Poetics and Poetry of  Pier Paolo Pasolini. Peter Lang. New York. 1994.   Chapters on Paolini’s dialect poetry (Del dairio, “La scperta di Marx,” Roma 1950 — un diario, Il canto poulare, Le ceneri di Gramsci;) Pasolini’s use of Giovanni Pascoli’s poemetto (a “deviant” mode of the cyclical tercet) “Il pianto della scavatrice,” La riligione del mio tempo; and Pasolini’s essay on Pascoli “Passione e idologia;” Pasolini’s thoughts on dialect poetry in the eraly 1960s, Paolini’s essay on Andrea Zanzotto entitles “La belta (Apunti;)” Clemente Robora, Poesia in forma di rosa and its predecessors; La divina mimesis; “Manifesto per un nuovo teatro,” Calderòn, Trasumanar e organizzar. Features (Peterson’s ?) translation of “Il pianto della scavatrice” under the title “The Steam Shovel’s City.” Partial translations of Pasolini and poems from his contemporaneous and historical context, analyses of the critical reception of various Pasolini works, close readings of poems, attention to the poetic and overall literary context as well as the Italian Marxist context.

Rhodes, John David. Stupendous Miserable City: Pasolini’s Rome. University Of Minnesota Press.  Minneapolis. 2007. Chapters on 20th century the urban history of Rome with special attention to development and the roots of Italian urbanism; Pasolini’s arrival in Rome, his work as a screenwriter and its cinematic context, his poetry, and Raggazi di vita; Accattone as an urbanist critique of neorealism; “Il pianto della scavatrice” (poem from Le cendri di Gramsci) and the construction of Roman housing projects in the 1950s; Mamma Roma, the Tuscolano II housing project and contemporaneous INA Casa development; Pasolini’s later films as allegories with emphasis on Uccellacci e Ucellini. This book is the best reading on Pasolini’s political potential in English. Clearly written, through, precise and engaged with various styles of Marxism. It is also the book that convinced me that Pasolini’s expressive production should be understood as a movement away from aesthetic production, despite the fact that the author does not make the argument.

Rohdie, Sam. The Passion Of Pier Paolo Pasolini. British Film Institute / Indiana University Press. Bloomington, IA. 1995 Experimental theoretical text on Pasolini and contemporaneous would culture with a focus on cinema and film theory. Contains fragments of writing from Pasolini and others. Emphasizes mythopoeic approach to Pasolini. Attempts “free-indirect” or “dialogical” composition.

Rumble, Patrick and Bart Testa. Pier Paolo Pasolini: Contemporary Perspectives. University of Toronto Press. Toronto. 1994. Articles on Nico Naldini’s (Pasolini’s cousin) recollections of Pasolini (Naldini;) the Roman Novels and the Italian Communist Party, 1956 (Joseph Francese;) Pasolini, Andrea Zanzotta (linguist and school teacher who worked on language acquisition in children) and pedagogy (Jennifer Stone;) Paoslini’s writings of the 1970s (Walter Siti;) Free indirect discourse (oratio obliqua , but confused with “reported speech” as such. Reported speech also includes direct and indirect discourse.)  Argues that Pasolini uses “free indirect” to mean any device that produces ambiguity (Paolo Fabbri;) Pasolini’s film semiotics as interpretation and not ontology (Giuliana Bruno;) Pasolini and materialist linguistics (Silverstra Mariniello;) Pasolini, the long take, editing and knowledge (David Ward;) “The Manifesto for a new Theater” (translated and introduced by David Ward;) Accattone, Mamma Roma, Dante and the way of the cross (P. Adams Sitney;) Deindividuation in Il sangelo secondo Matteo and Teorema (Bart Testa;)  Social and economic analogies in the Trilogia della vita (Patrick Rumble;) S Salò o le 120 gionate di Sodoma. and the refusal of cinematic consumption (Naomi Greene;) “Tetis” a short text on the Trilogia della vita Pasolini wrote in 1973 (Translated by Patrick Rumble.) Some of the articles are considered standards (Greene, Rumble, Testa, Ward,) some are filled with ad hoc psychoanalytic theory and shallow research (Stone, Fabri.) Schwartz, Bath David. Pasolini Requiem. Pantheon Books. New York. Biography of Pasolini with a somewhat conservative liberal humanist bent. Stylistically messy. The author feels free to judge Pasolini and as a correspondent writes, seems to have published every note he has ever taken. Worth consulting as it contains some useful data.

Schwenk, Bernard and Michael Semff eds. Pier Paolo Pasolini and Death. Hatje Cantz. Munich. 2006. Texts on “Pasolini and death” (Giusepe Zigaina;) Pasolini’s aesthetic of the “drawn out moment” (Schwenk;) the influence of Roberto Longhi on Pasolini’s use of art (Marc Weis;) The theme of motif in Pasolini (Roberto Chiesi;) “Transmediality” and pastiche in Pasolini (Benjamin Meyer-Krahmer;) Pasolini’s drawings (Smeff;) Pasolini’s 1969 poem Patmos (in Italian, not translated;) a conversation between Peter Kammerer and Zigaina; the “new fascism” ( Loris Lepri;) Paoslini’s last television interview (with Philippe Bouvard.) Also a photographic timeline and plates, plates, plates (including some Pasolini drawings and paintings … )

Siciliano, Enzo. Pasolini A Biography. John Shepley, Trans. Random House. New York. 1982. Biography of Pasolini by a friend and collaborator of Pasolini’s who also worked with Moravia and was at one time head of RAI, Italian state television. Original version published in 1978. Bent on proving that Pasolini’s murder was a right wing conspiracy. Very vague Marxism. As a correspondent writes “a whiff of homophobia.”

Viano, Maurizio.  A Certain Realism: Making Use of Pasolini’s Film Theory and Practice. University of California Press. Los Angeles. 1993. Chapters on Accattone; Mamma Roma; La Ricotta (contribution to collective film RoGoPaG😉 La Rabbia; Comizi d’amore; Sopraluoghi in Palestina; Il Vangelo secundo Matteo; La Terra vista dalla luna (contribution to Le streghe) and Che cosa sono le nuvole? (contribution to Capriccio all’italiana;) Edipo Re; La sequenza del foire di carta (segment of Amore e rabbia,; Apunti per un film sull’India; Toerema; Porcile; Medea; Apunti per un’Orestiade Africana; Le Mura di Sana’a (documentary short / appeal on Yemen;) La trilogia della vita; Salò o le 120 gionate di Sodoma; as well as Pasolini’s film and literary theory and its intellectual context. The introduction compares Pasolini to Nietzsche. Though it reads a bit like a post modern chestnut, Viano almost works enough to establish the genealogical dimension in Pasolini. Throughout the book, Viano shows that Pasolini constantly questioned dominant values without necessarily pointing to the role history and philology play in Pasolini’s films. Perhaps if he had included poems …

Ward, David. A Poetics Of Resistance: Narrative and the writings of Pier Paolo Pasolini. Associated University Presses. Ontario. 1995. Chapters on the Friulian Novels (Atti Impuri, Amado mio, Il sogno di una cosa;) the Roman Novels (Ragazzi di vita, Una vita violenta;) Empirismo eretico; Pasolini’s journalism, six verse tragedies and “Il Manifesto per un nuovo teatro.” “The Manifesto for a New Theater” translated as an appendix. Considers Pasolini’s revolutionary ,or resistant, aspects in light of his “poetic” historiography. Comes close to presenting Pasolini and a genealogist. Introduced with a useful short survey of Italian, British and US critical reception.  

 Watson, William Van . Pier Paolo Pasolini and the Theater of the World. University Microfilms Inc. 1989. Chapters on psychoanalysis (death drive) in Pasolini’s work, life and critical reception; the contemporary (contemporaneous) Italian theater; “The Manifesto for a New Theater;” Calderòn; Affabulation; Pylades; Porcile (play;) Orgia;, Bestia da Stile; productions of Pasolini’s plays; and Pasolini’s plays and post-modernism. Useful for information on Pasolini’s theater.

Pier Paolo Pasolini on the Aesthetic’s Fading II

The films in the Trilogy Of Life are “my most ideological films of all” because they are set in periods “before the body had become merchandise … But I don’t believe in them any more.”

Pasolini. Svenska Filminstitutet. Stockholm, 1975. Cited in B.D. Schwartz. Pasolini Requiem. Page 13

Sex Quartet, Hypothesis 1a

If, as Marazzi claims, financialization, counts language among the forces of production, the “communication” of percepts and affects also become productive in that period. Looking back from the 1970s, artistic forms of pervious periods appear as historical material and as expressions of material history. The conditions of late capitalism’s emergence transform Pasolini’s free indirect: it starts as a depiction of contemporaneous subjectification as class conflict and by the time of the Sex Quartet has become the genetic image of historical socia. These movies fade the 19th century aesthetic by presenting it’s objects as a historical series rather than as their own project.

The Sex Quartet, Hypothesis 1

Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Trilogy Of Life and Salo, released between 1971 and 1975, expresses the secular downturn, which begins in 1973 as a fading of aesthetics and the emergence of an analysis of the production of sexuality within historical/material life forms. That analysis prepares for the emergence financialization, an era when  “necessary cost of production becomes the life itself of the community” (citation adapted from Marazzi.)