Altrove – Free and Free to Err

Catalan_Atlas_caravan_drawingBy Daniel Leisawitz*

As we made our way well into the summer, the thoughts of many Americans, just as those of many Italians, turned toward taking a vacation: that brief respite from routine that helps us to break away, if only momentarily, from our responsibilities and obligations… at least in theory. In Italy, where most people enjoy more time off than the average American, the traditional summertime dilemma is whether to go either al mare or in montagna: to the beach or to the mountains.

Among his many other accomplishments, the chemist, writer, and Holocaust-survivor, Primo Levi, was an amateur alpinista or mountain-climber. From the days of his youth in the Piedmontese capital of Turin, Levi enjoyed hiking and climbing the peaks of the nearby Maritime and Cottian Alps.

In one of his most profound reflections on the experience of mountain-climbing, the “Iron” chapter in The Periodic Table (1975), Levi describes the exhilaration that comes from overcoming the challenges of a harrowing night in the mountains: “è il sapore di essere forti e liberi, liberi anche di sbagliare, e padroni del proprio destino” (it is the sensation of being strong and free – free also to err – and masters of our own destiny).

Levi is clearly referring here to an existential or even spiritual strength and freedom; however, it’s worth considering his words in a literal sense, as well. In our time, perhaps even more than 75 years ago, the mountains can still provide that sense of freedom, simply by virtue of the fact that it is one of the few remaining places in the industrialized world with no cell phone service. In an age in which gps and Google Maps make losing one’s way almost impossible, and smart phones keep us tethered to our work and to the world, it is good to know that there still exist places where we can be free and even free to err.

*Daniel Leisawitz is the Director of the Italian Studies Program at Muhlenberg College (Allentown, Pennsylvania, USA). The artwork is by Abraham Cresques a 14th-century Jewish Spanish cartographer.