Paul et Thérèse Costopoulos, de Montréal, Québec

La traduction du post précédent sur des amis franco-canadiens. Centre historique de Civitavecchia. Cliquez pour les crédits

Originale in italiano

Le 5 novembre, je suis allé saluer un blogueur et sa femme à Civitavecchia. Nous nous étions déjà vus trois fois, au Nouveau Monde et deux fois en Italie. C’est beau quand le virtuel devient réel. Ma fille Elena, 31 ans, sur WhatsApp: ” Comment ça s’est passé avec les Canadiens?” J’avais mentionné un blogueur canadien, Paul, également présent dans The Notebook dans des conversations traduites (1, 2, 3, 4 etc.), avec qui j’avais beaucoup dialogué.

Giovanni: « Cela s’est très bien passé. Il a 87 ans, elle 83. Une croisière ensemble, un voyage romantique tous les deux. Il sont franco-canadiens du Québec, Montréal. De langue maternelle française, naturellement, ils parlent aussi très bien l’anglais. Ils ont cette petite supériorité, les Canadiens, comparés aux ‘Américains’ (eux ne les aiment pas vraiment : Paul les appelle USaers 😂), TOUS les Canadiens, pas seulement ceux du Québec, de connaitre pratiquement les deux langues. Cela, je pense, se traduit par une majeure ouverture mentale ».

Paul Costopoulos, aka Costo: à 87 ans, il est toujours un lion. Ici photographié dans un bar près de leur hôtel

Giovanni: “Paul Costopoulos avait une mère française du Québec et un père grec qui avait émigré au Canada avant la Seconde Guerre mondiale. Le grec est tombé amoureux de cette belle fille à la peau très blanche. Le couple a u Paul et deux autres garçons. Mais la belle fille à la peau très blanche ne voulait pas que le père de Paul parle en grec avec son fils. Pour cette raison et pour des autres raisons que je ne connais pas, alors que Paul avait 10 ans le père grec est rentré en Grèce, ou bien – Paul vient de me dire – il est mort en 1952 en Ontario, au Canada, mais il y a aucune preuve de cela”.

“Paul alors s’est trouvé dans une situation très difficile. Les grecs de Montréal le considéraient comme français. Les français le considéraient comme grec. Il a pourtant combattu, il s’est élevé, il a étudié bien à l’école et lu secrètement la littérature française de France jugée trop osée 😂 à cette époque-là au Canada, a étudié les chefs-d’œuvre de la littérature anglaise, ceux-ci enfin suffisamment puritains 😂”.

[A ce moment ma fille aura pensé : « Noooo, il va passer comme la poudrerie, mon papa, c'est son habitude 😱», ndr]

“Le père Lachance, un prêtre qui était son professeur, l’a aidé à se bâtir intellectuellement et moralement. Puis Paul Costopoulos a rencontré une belle fille à la peau très blanche et aux yeux très bleus, comme sa mère, je crois. Ils sont tombés amoureux tous les deux et se sont mariés.

Thérèse Costopoulos, 83 ans, compagne pour la vie de Paul, dynamique et plein de vie

“Paul Costopoulos, un Grec canadien qui ne connaît pas le grec (mais il sait le latin mieux que moi) a travaillé jusqu’à la retraite dans une structure pour la récupération des mineurs à Montréal, structure de la commune de la ville, qui fonctionne comme une horloge comparée à Rome, un ville de 3000 ans (qui dort un peu). Il a fait du bien à ces jeunes, j’en suis sure. Je crois qu’il a posé à eux des limites : ils avaient besoin de ça, un jeune criminel ayant besoin de discipline, de limites (et d’affection). Mais c’est ma conjecture, en raison de ma connaissance de Paul”.

« Il a trois enfants: André, qui travaille à l’université et écrit sur l’archéologie en contact avec des spécialistes du monde entier; et deux filles jumelles identiques, qui ont d’abord travaillé à Toronto, puis ont décidé de retourner vivre chez leurs parents, sans s’être mariées (chose incompréhensible, elles étant intelligentes, spirituelles et très jolies) »

Piazza Leandra, le coeur du centre historique de Civitavecchia

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“Ma chère Elena, je t’ai raconté l’histoire de Paul et Thérèse. Paul était l’un des meilleurs commentateurs, peut-être le meilleur, de mon ancien blog en anglais, compagnon de nombreuses aventures à la fois intellectuelles et émotionnelles. Donc je ne peux pas l’oublier “.

“Il n’est n’est pas un homme riche, mais il est plus riche que beaucoup et beaucoup de gens riches”.

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“Dailleurs, il était capable to say in 2 lines what I said in 50 lines 😂”

Paul e Thérèse Costopoulos, di Montreal, Québec

Il centro storico di Civitavecchia di notte. Cliccare sulla foto per i credits

traduction en français

Il 5 novembre scorso sono andato a salutare un blogger e sua moglie, a Civitavecchia. Ci eravamo già visti precedentemente tre volte, una nel Nuovo Mondo e due in Italia. È bello quando il virtuale si fa reale. Mia figlia Elena, 31 anni, su WhatsApp: “Com’è andata con i canadesi??” Le avevo accennato a un blogger canadese, Paul, – presente anche su The Notebook (vedi 1, 2, 3, 4 ecc.) – con cui avevo dialogato molto.

Giovanni: “È andata molto bene. Lui 87 anni, lei 83. Partono da Civitavecchia in crociera per il Mediterraneo e l’Atlantico, un viaggio romantico insieme. Sono franco-canadesi del Québec, di Montreal. Lingua materna francese naturalmente [e non “madre”, fa notare giù Claudio Capriolo, ndr], ma parlano benissimo anche inglese. Hanno questa superiorità, i canadesi, rispetto agli “americani” (che non amano: Paul li chiama Usaers 😂): quasi tutti i canadesi, non solo quelli di Montreal, conoscono le due lingue. Questo, forse, porta a un’apertura mentale più grande”.

Paul Costopoulos, detto Costo: a 87 anni è ancora un leone. Qui ritratto in un bar vicino al loro albergo

Giovanni: “Paul Costopoulos ha avuto madre francese del Québec e padre greco, emigrato in Canada prima della Seconda Guerra Mondiale. Il greco, più scuro di pelle, si è innamorato di questa splendida ragazza dalla pelle chiarissima. La coppia ha avuto Paul e altri due maschi. Lei però non voleva che il padre parlasse in greco a Paul. Era molto rigida. Pertanto, quando Paul aveva 10 anni, l’emigrante greco tornò in Grecia”.

“Paul si trovò allora in una situazione molto dura. I greci di Montreal lo consideravano francese. I francesi lo consideravano greco. Ma lui si è fatto forza e ha combattuto, si è tirato su, a scuola studiava studiava, leggeva di nascosto la letteratura francese della Francia considerata troppo osé a quel tempo in Canada 😂, studiava i capolavori della letteratura inglese, questi finalmente un po’ puritani 😂”

[A questo punto mia figlia avrà pensato: "Noo, il solito pi***ne di papà". Non ha però usato questa parola, la usa suo padre, ndr]

“Le père Lachance, un prete e suo prof, lo ha aiutato a costruirsi, intellettualmente e moralmente. Poi Paul ha conosciuto Thérèse, una splendida ragazza dalla pelle bianchissima e gli occhi azzurri, come la madre, di 4 anni più giovane. Si sono innamorati e sposati”.

Thérèse Costopoulos, 83 anni, valida e vivace compagna di vita di Paul

“Paul Costopoulos, greco canadese che non sa il greco (ma sa il latino meglio di me) ha lavorato fino alla pensione in una struttura per il recupero di delinquenti minorenni annessa al riformatorio di Mont-real, struttura del comune cittadino che, rispetto a Roma, funziona come un orologio. Ha fatto del bene a questi giovani, che l’hanno rispettato e amato. Non era tenero. Poneva dei limiti. Di questo avevano bisogno”.

“Paul e Thérèse Costopoulos hanno tre figli, André, che lavora all’università e scrive di archeologia in contatto con gli specialisti del settore nel mondo. E due figlie gemelle identiche, che avevano fatto una bella carriera a Toronto (la Milano del Canada) ma poi hanno deciso di tornare a vivere con i genitori, non essendosi sposate (il che è incomprensibile, essendo spiritose, intelligenti e carinissime)”.

Piazza Leandra, il cuore del centro storico di Civitavecchia. Cliccate sulla foto per i credits

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“Cara Elena, ti ho raccontato la storia di Paul e Thérèse. Paul è stato uno dei migliori commentatori, forse il migliore, del mio vecchio blog in inglese, compagno di tante avventure della mente sia emotiva che intellettuale. Per cui non posso dimenticarlo”.

“Non è un uomo ricco, ma è più ricco più di tanti e tanti ricchi”.

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“D’altronde, riusciva a dire in 2 righe quello che a me ne richiedeva 50 😂😂”.
—

Ides of March, Paul Costopoulos’ Birthday (and Paul’s Second Name is not Caesar)

Paul Costopoulos, the wise man of our little blogosphere slice. Courtesy of PC

Today it is the “Ides of March” or Idus Martii, a date famous for the assassination of Julius Caesar and an ancient festivity as well dedicated to the god Mars or Ares, the Greco-Roman deity of war.

Well, not only of war since (to the Romans only) such god was also an agricultural guardian.

March (Italian Marzo, Latin Martius) is the month named after Mars. Festivities in honour of Mars began in fact in such a year period in Ancient Rome and inaugurated the military (and agricultural) season.

They were then held again in October which ended the military campaigns and the farming activities – well, more or less since olive oil (called by Homer “liquid gold”) had still to be made because olives matured through the winter.

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This is not though a post about war, farming or about Caesar.

Except for war we care about the said things. But a lot more we care about Paul Costopoulos, our Canadian sage.

Of both Greek and French descent (a potent mix) everybody likes Paul. He is endowed with wisdom, concrete knowledge of life and that emotional intelligence – as Dafna put it – that has made discussions wherever he goes interesting, humorous (and warm.)

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Paul is 80 today.

Happy birthday friend.

 

On Roman, Italian and Latin Roots. Italy and the New World

The discussion over the third from last post had focused a) on a different vision of Italy by Italians from Italy and by North Americans of Italian origin; b) on Italian and Roman roots and the survival of ways which the Roman actress Anna Magnani epitomizes.

This post is mainly reporting the discussion over the second topic. I hence apologize to those readers whose comments have been omitted. I also apologize since all published comments have been edited out for the sake of brevity. Here you can read the original discussion.

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MoR. When I wrote this post I had some headache and I later realised a few words were not just right. For example, Anna Magnani “weird mixture of nobility and abjection …” was overstated. I changed ‘abjection’ with ‘crudity’. Such crudity, not deprived of nobleness, is present almost only in Rome in my view. I’m sure the great and unusual past of the eternal city has something to do with it.

Joe@italyville. In my opinion, you must be critical of your country. What would have happened if there was no criticism of Mussolini or Bush. If we didn’t criticize the handling of New Orleans or the trash in the streets of Napoli. [Joe’s blog]

The Commentator. These videos and songs remind me of my close friend Flavio who is, like me, Canadian born and my age. In the 1990s, I devoured Italian and French films ad nauseam. In the case of Italian films two defining characteristics stood out for me: humor, as in using humor to deal with the hard side of Italian life. The other was realism. Italians faced their decadence through film. My close friend Flavio made the exact same remarks about Romans as you said in your post. He found them to be crude. [The Commentator’s blog]

MoR. Well, Rome is so beautiful that those who have produced such beauty cannot be defined as just ‘crude’. There must be something else.

Joanne at Frutto della Passione. As a Canadian of Italian descent, living in Italy I know without a doubt that my view of Italy is very different from my father’s (Italian born, immigrated to Canada) who views it as the motherland and has romanticized it and all of his memories. My view? It changes almost daily. Somedays I love it beyond words other days it frustrates me to the point of tears. [Joanne’s blog]

MoR. I understand your difficulties, despite your roots. Well, here in Italy habits survive that puzzle many foreigners, historical remnants whose disadvantages towards ‘modernity’ seem clear. Are they only disadvantages? Foreigners from North America surely don’t come to Rome or to Naples to admire how scientifically organized traffic is. They come to enjoy other stuff (and not just the monuments.)

Commentator. Just would like to add something else. While there’s no doubt many still look fondly back on Italy, there are still others who don’t. I’ve known and met many Italians who wanted to forget everything about the old country and wanted nothing to do with it. Such was their anger towards her.

MoR. As I told Joanne, some survivals are real obstacles to progress. The “patron-client” relationship, for example, present here in disgusting ways: in universities, in state institutions and in the civil society of areas of the country. I don’t think it’s by chance that ‘patronatus’, ‘patronus’, ‘clientes’ are Ancient Roman words and concepts. I mean, favouritisms, recommendations etc. are here so ingrained that the best brains fly to countries where there is more meritocracy.

Paul Costopoulos. Dear MoR, “favouritism” exists everywhere. Here, we call it the “Old boys network” or “le patronage”, in Québec. Merit certainly enters the equation somewhere but «knowing the right person» is of great help. What my women friends of all origins were bothered by in Italy was the ogling and buttocks pinching they endured. It seems Italian males have restless hands. Maybe that is what Frutto della passione is writing about. Fruit of passion…very evocative. [Paul’s blog]

MoR. Ah ah ah, Paul, you made me laugh! Yes, you made me laugh but then you depressed me (even though I’ll say aloud to my female readers that I don’t go around pinching buttocks.)

Paul. Cheer up Man, certainly the sun and warm Mediterranean climate is responsible for all that. All those provocative sculptures that ornate your squares, fountains and even churches are probably the main culprits. They overstimulate and induce into temptation even the most hardy souls as so many popes attest to. The Medicis popes surely are eloquent examples.

MoR. Yes, Paul, yes, even the most hardy souls, no doubt.

Paul. You show great fortitude.

MoR. I do, Paul.

[See a post on Italian Don Juanism, an irritating behaviour now declining, to tell the truth]

Commentator. Quebec functions very much like a Latin country (corruption, patronage etc.), like Italy – only it’s not so overt.

Paul. Commentator, it’s not only less overt, it’s also less. Under Maurice Duplessis, from 1936 to 1960 it was rampant and well organised, since then checks have been put in place…

Commentator. Here’s yet another thing regarding M. Anna Magnani. I was observing her and couldn’t help but notice she shares a common trait with how Italian women are generally perceived here. There are more “Anna’s” than women with the sensibilities or accent of a Northerner. Here, it’s all Rome and south. I went to school with many tough, joyous “Anna’s.” And you know what? There was indeed a certain way to them. What came off as crude didn’t mean there wasn’t a typically Italian panache to them. Shoot, in my family alone we have a gal that pretty much is Anna.

Mor. People in fact migrated from the most traditional areas of this country. I too like this crudity: it has verve, dash. Wow, so you have an Anna in family. Well, I do also, to a certain extent. These Annas I call ‘ancient’. Fellini said Anna (Annas) is/are a symbol and a survival. This he also meant by “She-wolf and Vestal, aristocratic and tramp, dark and buffoonish;” (listen to him saying it to Anna in the film “Roma”.)

I’m sure the perception of the artist is sometimes superior to that of the scholar. On the other hand, in my opinion, a peasant from the Italian South (or from Greece) is closer to the Greco-Romans than any historian of antiquity.

Moreover it could be that in the New World – and you seem to confirm it – some primordial traits are preserved, like hibernated, while here they can disappear: take archaisms in language (US ‘gotten’ instead of the more recent UK ‘got’), or cultures like the Amish in Ohio & Pennsylvania.
Actually I met a stunning Anna from Chicago here in Rome. This post tells about her .

Commentator. We are caught in an “Italy from a time past.” My friend went to Sicily in the early 1990s and they laughed at his accent. “We don’t speak dialect any more!”

MoR. Which makes the New World even more fascinating to me!

Paul. Man of Roma, the so called New World is a reservoir of cultures. The USA has strived to homogenize, the others such as Canada have taken pain to recognize, and even preserve, the cultures of their immigrant citizens. Thus our Anglophones speak a Victorian English, dans plusieurs régions du Canada les francophones parlent la langue de la province française de leurs ancêtres. The others tend to bunch together often by villages or towns they come from and keep the traditions and languages, at least the second, and at times third, generation. Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver all have strong ethnic neighbourhoods where you find restaurants, stores, groceries, newspapers all catering to the native tongue of their inhabitants. It’s the Canadian mosaic…and I love it.

MoR. The Commentator had told me a bit about this USA – Canada difference. I have to get to Canada some day. I think I have a friend living in Toronto. I might love Montreal better though. Some students had told me Montreal is like a world-wide francophone hub, thence my interest.

Exposrip. As for melting pot versus multiculturalism I think I break with Paul here. Personally, enshrining multiculturalism in the Charter is nonsense. [Exposrip’s blog, warehouse of Commentator’s stories]

MoR. I see your point about multiculturalism: you care more about a Canadian identity, which I can understand. Although, call it selfishness, I like that somewhere things are preserved.

Paul. Go to Little Italy around La Madonna della Diffesa and you won’t know you are in Montreal. You may even not hear a word of French or English, but maybe lots of Abruzzi and Calabresi. As for food well you will judge. Caffe Italia may also please you.

Commentator. I think MOR would want to observe French-Canadian culture in action on rue St. Denis.

Paul. I agree with The Commentator, St-Denis and the Latin Quarter aroud UQAM are French Montreal “par excellence”.

MoR. I’ll be there Paul.

Paul. Welcome, and let us know, perhaps we could arrange a little informal meeting…however risky that may be…you know the Web and all that.

MoR. Thank you for saying that Paul. Oh … of course Paul, the risky chat encounters … I’ll bring my 4 bodyguards.

Paul. Sounds like a Maffia boss, I may hide. Ha! Ha!

MoR. Ah ah ah

(*Silly Roman laugh…making a phone call in search of the four boys*)

…

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Other related posts:

Italian Songs. Anna Magnani, Dean Martin, Pavarotti and the Three Tenors
Pre-Christian Rome lives
Experiencing All