San Gennaro doesn't think about it anymore: that's why!

by Roberta Ibello

Naples it is the cradle of possible miracles. The life of the Neapolitans is a pendulum that swings between a miracle of San Gennaro and another. But what if the blood stops melting? What if the saint begins to understand that maybe it's not worth bothering for us?

Let's say that one day, all the faithful (and not) massed, waiting for the performance of San Gennaro, stand up, enduring the annoyance of sharing the same square meter with an unknown neighbor, for the honor of attending that ritual so overwhelming, in the very act of opening their eyes wide in wonder at the obvious success, they realize that something has gone wrong.

The crowd begins to whisper, where it should have applauded. The climate is heating up, the blood has not melted.

The first year, the discouragement is mitigated by a possible chance. But what if by chance the ritual became non-ritual and Naples was the victim of this cruel game for ten years?


“It's been ten years since the last time the blood has melted. The first year the bishop was a little sick, he made an ugly face. But it can happen right? The saints are not always at our convenience.

Then the second year. We half devotees heard it on the news. And then the third, let alone my son, who had taken it into his head to be an atheist, began to worry.

The fourth year the government bothered. It was said that the saint was angry at how we lived here in Naples. And then some law was made. And I have to be honest people respected them, perhaps because every hour the notice with the face of poor San Gennaro passed on television, and you could never respect the words of a saint? So much so that even that unfortunate son of mine the other, began to go to church, and imagine my mother, she was determined that she had to put on the veil.

But nothing, the blood was there, still and not melting. It seemed to me that he made fun of us a little and made us do whatever he wanted. In short, the sixth year everyone began to go crazy.

Some had got into their heads that the blood had been stolen by who knows who and taken who knows where to perform personal miracles, others had locked themselves up at home and no longer worked. They didn't sell newspapers, they didn't drink coffee, the children didn't go to school. Bad luck could hit us all at any moment.

I was in bed and I am in bed. Didn't I tell you? I am paralyzed, and what a pleasure.

Today the saint has been teasing us for 10 years. Almost almost people have forgotten the great San Gennaro or perhaps they no longer speak of it out of luck.  Do you know that San Gennà is there? Today to do you honor I get up a little from this bed. Now I stand up and think “it's a Miracle!”.

At 10 after 10 years the blood has melted but there is no one to get excited in the cathedral, no one to follow him on television, indeed the television does not mention it at all. They are all in my house, they all have a new miracle to believe in! "

Photo by Aldo Mastrisciano

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