People have such staunch and unshakeable ideas about Italy, especially when it comes to idealizing it. Who knows if this was always the case or if we merely have Frances Mayes and Elizabeth Gilbert to blame for it?–these white women appealing to other bored white women with the implausible narratives of Under the Tuscan Sun and Eat Pray Love. Whatever the reason, the lore of Italy as a place for renaissance and renewal has only been solidified over time in the minds of Americans.
The appearance of Jennifer Lopez, who recently turned forty-nine on July 24th (perhaps a part of the reason for her Italian getaway with meathead/Madonna’s sloppy seconds, Alexander Rodriguez), on the famed and beloved island of Capri (once the occasional distraction for a more tumultuous couple, Elsa Morante and Alberto Moravia), has only reinstated this false idea of what Italy represents to those who don’t live a day-to-day life there, most especially in the South. While reports of Lopez’s impromptu performance of “Let’s Get Loud” at a local nightclub have added to the belief in the constant possibility of “unexpected charm” just by sheer “virtue” of being in Italy (in addition to A-Rod posting images of the two on Micky Arison’s storied super-yacht…for he’s more renowned for his yacht collection than being the owner of Miami Heat), it bears reminding people that this is the antithesis of normalcy in a country with a poverty rate of 4.7 million (a staggering 7.9 percent, heavily concentrated in the southern vicinity). Ah, and then there is the unemployment rate, presently at 10.9% overall and at 32.6% when focused on youth unemployment. So no, it’s not all stuffing your face with zeppole and picking fresh fruit from an amiable fruttivendolo. It’s, in fact, a constant daily struggle for most people just to make ends meet and survive.
And yet, the mythos surrounding Italy must be perpetuated not only by literature and film depicting it as the ultimate milieu for rebirth and self-discovery (typically as a privileged American that gets hard for it as a result of never having tasted decent food before in their life), but also by the celebrities that serve to further propel this false and idyllic notion of what it means to “soak up the culture.” But ah, it’s a culture that is sanitized by the obscene wealth that comes with being able to enjoy Italy as it was made to be (in water-based locales like Capri and Portofino). For most Italians, however, one can only dream of living the life that outsiders seem so convinced is the mere ordinary for them–all majestic backdrops and jovial vibes. Meanwhile, Italy is plagued with its own migrant crisis (though the U.S. would never know it, so swept and consumed by their own, which never bothered them before when it was kept out of the headlines), news swirling daily about tensions mounting among denizens of the south not wanting any more refugees coming in. Prime Minister Matteo Salvini’s dichotomous statement, “I stand firm: ports closed and hearts open,” has also caused more division in the overall EU policy about how to handle migrant refugees.
But who can pay attention to any of this when images of pasta, pizza and beautiful seaside towns abound? It’s impossible to get it through the thick skull of an American (a breed that continues to be hopeless in their romanticism despite mounting evidence to the contrary of warranting any optimism whatsoever) the very real fact that: Na bro, it’s just not like that. Maybe when you’re on vacation, and you seek out the same antiseptic experiences as a celebrity, you can pretend it’s like that. But one must repeat: it is not. You’re living in a fantasy originally sold to you by Carlo Ponti.
