Among the Second World War's remarkable stories is the liberation of Rome. I remembered this during D-Day, for two entirely separate reasons. The history books record June 6, 1944 as the day the Allies entered the Eternal City. That fact, which should have been an enormous propaganda coup for the good guys, was entirely overshadowed by the Normandy landings.
Well, it was overshadowed everywhere except Italy. Thanks to Roberto Rossellini (among others), a global audience has obtained a relatively faithful rendering of the events in Rome during early June, 1944. The Italian director's movie
Rome: Open City not only provided a dramatic window into that historical episode. The film also heralded the entry and importance of the Italian film perspective known as neo-realism. That Italians felt an affinity to truthful depictions of painful historical events should be a source of inspiration to American film makers and others, myself included. It is striking that American audiences essentially do not want to come to grips with unpleasant historical events, such as the 2008 financial crash, the Iraq war, and the classist vise grip on the nation's wealth, political clout, and intellectual capital. (The contradiction between tough, truly shared "sacrifice" and convenient, self-satisfied "giving back" to achieve a greater social good begins to encapsulate this morally bleak state of affairs.)
I also thought about Italy on June 6th through a reminder that someone I knew from those days was celebrating her birthday in Rome. She had introduced me to a piano instructor who sacrificed his most fruitful days as a musician in protest against Fascism in the years prior to and during World War II. He lived his life according to his conscience; more importantly, he trusted his conscience over material convenience or a hollow dismissal of politics. He saw how people were twisted by rancid political ideology, how citizens were stripped of rights, how the innocent were singled out for murder. He thought they were worth protesting, fighting against, sacrificing.
The Roman piano maestro's actions have left a far greater impact on my thinking about World War II's great lessons than the big picture D-Day memorials have, or ever really could.
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