Library of Naples
Biblioteca Nazionale di Napoli
It’s never a good idea to judge anything by appearances. Here’s an example.
Mid-autumn of last year I was new in Naples. The language was a challenge and I still didn’t know my way around. The city seemed hectic and disheveled.
Then, on a wet Wednesday in November, I was invited on a trip to the Biblioteca Nazionale di Napoli.
An irresistible elephant
I wasn’t looking for any of the above but somehow they found me. That’s what Naples does.
My elephant – she’s now mine – spent days for sale on the steep, wintery steps outside the huge post office near the city centre.
I passed her twice a week en route to class. It was hard to miss her. My head was full of elephants and there she was, big and awkward in amongst the trinkets and faded pictures.
Then yesterday, on an impulse, I roped together my Italian and my courage, and paused.
The roads that dive off the tangenziale into Naples
“Are you sure you know the way?”
“Yes.”
“Is it really better than my way?”
“Yes.” Louder, wounded, exasperated, emphatic.
“Okay – your directions have got to be clear.” Ominous …
The tyres rattle and echo off the tunnel walls. It’s six o’clock in the evening, a bright, dark night and all of Naples seems in a rush to get somewhere.
The Phraser 