davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
The Third Phase

SINCE the conclusion of the world
struggle d'Annunzio became the
spiritual leader Of the party which
demanded the uncompromising ex-
ecution of the nationalist pro-
gramme. He urged the government
not to yield an iota on Dalmatia,
Istria or Fiume. His attacks on
what he called the ingratitude of
the Allies toward Italy became so
violent that the government found
it necessary to suppress his agita-
ton. He answered by resigning his
rank of lieutenant colonel When
the Nitti government was formed
d d'Annunzio, taking advantage of the
suspension of censorship, attacked
the new ministry with utmost We
hemence, saying:
~ was prevented the other night by
armed swashbuckfers and staggering
henchmen Of the present government
from speaking in public, but this is
what should have said: Down with
these Infamous vultures who fatten
on carrion. who want to bury all hero
ism under their bureaucratic bodies.
If it does not elevate our souls to
creative power, of what use is our
cult for heroes? If followed my in
stinct and impulse l would tonight
with the cans of benzine with which
We set out, like buccaneers, over the
Adriatic, fly over the Palazzo Braschi
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

where the ministerial councils are
heidi and burn it to- the ground.
scorning the beautiful stairway of
Plus VI.
with one of the iron bludgeons
which l carried away from the battle
field of Faiti | should go and disem-
bowel the plump old statue of the
Triton who is scattering his insipid
spray with the same imbecility as
those demigods he so we'll por-
trays. With my old wings of the
Carso rddled by a hundred bullet
holes, should fly over the parliament
building of Monte Citorio and dis
charge on it all the bombs from which
| spared the Schonbrunn Palace at
Vienna"
Such language may be branded
:nsufferably bombastic If used by an
ordinary mortal. But it seems as
though d'Annunzio were man of
his word to a degree quite extraor-
dinary. He did not stop short at
preaching war; he was one of the
first to enlist and fight. He does
not stop short at preaching mutiny;
he goes and leads an expedition Of
mutineers into Fiume to save that
city from the betrayal" of the
Nitti government His step may
have been unwise; it may have
damaged the genuine interests of
his country. 1t was certainly the
step of a man who places his con-
viction above considerations of mere
utility. Its appeal to the Italian
heart-whatever the outcoue-will
be deep and lasting. I
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
His Career Falls Into Three
Phases-A Marvellous
Romance

treme individualist, the cultural an
archist denying not only the desir-
ability but the very reality of ethical
standards and moral obligations, and
that of the volunteer soldier embody-
ing the principle of one for all, of
self-sacrifice for the good Of coun-
try and nation. Between the pa
triotic soldier and the leader of
mutiny there is no contrast, but q
transition; d'Annunzio, by his raid
on Fiume, may have become a rebel
but not traitor-he braves the gov
ernment Of Italy because, in his eyes,
it is not Italian enough, because it
yielded up what he, and with him
thousands of Italians, considers the
sacred heritage of an Italy united
at last. The soldier was the reac-
ton to the aesthetic; the rebel is the
continuation of the soldier, with the
old individualist, the hater of rule
and discipline, reasserting himself.
Held by some the greatest con-
temporary genius Of Latinity, one
of the great poets Of all ages, by
others merely consummate crafts
man who is at the same time an in
comparable poseur and unsurpassa-
BILE manipulation of publicity,
d'Annunzio in a way personifies the
change tlat the great war has
brought to the life of a generation.
Supposing d'Annunzio had died in
July, 1914, posterity's estimate of
his genius would have rested on his
literary achievements up to that
date. He was then considered one
of the greatest exponents of the lit
erary tendency called decadentism,
mostly by its detractors. To-day the
judgment would be colored by the
new light the war has thrown on his
characters
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
The omen I shoaD to thee.
Voc to thee If thou dou5test,
Woe to thee If thou pouscth,


Woe to thee If thou pouscth,
Woe If thou tearest the die-cost.
Vm Victis! (Woe to the can
quishedU
Bloacs forth the blast of the battles,
On the sea avhere the lights go oatt,
On the continent all oglow
From the depths Of the burning
cities.
Va Victis! Mantuo, remember!
Remember the gallo1Us aceighted
acith martyrs,
And that everlasting rope
With achich the decrepit hongnmn,
Frinr-priest of the Gib6et,
Glrded his pious loins.
Remember the ring-weighted fingers
And artists of thy screaming ayomen
Stripped and mongled and torn
By the clanviag hands of the Aus
trian.
May they strike the Amounted of
Spielberg,
IN his haunted dreams of the night,
AS he rolls on his blood dstained pil-
}olc,
To the plnts-ultin,ate hour of death!
May they be raised against lis
prayer
In the house of God each morning,
When he bends on acedkening knees,
Like some clouen 1Uood that is cracL-
ing,
To receiue on his fctM tongue
The Host that the priest IS tending!
Remember! l wish my hatred
We're freight IN thy scales. l acish
To search ting heart Without ceasing
For acords Of frebrcnds,
I soy 1t to thee and / giUe thee
No cease so long as my breath
Betareen my teeth is acarming.
My God has cast my bro1v
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
By Eugene S. Bagger

DECADENT novelist and
super-asthete -- daredevil
- poet-soldier and leader of
sir raids-chieftain of rebels defying
not only their own government but
the collective will of Allied nations
these are the three outstanding
stages of the development Of Ga
briele d'Annunzio, who the other day
marched at the head of ten thousand
mutineers of the Royal Italian
army into the much contested city
Of Fiume, pearl of the Adriatic."
Supreme fruit of the hothouse of
"fn de steele" culture, arch dandy
and hero of a never-ending series of
love affairs, languishing in Narcis-
sian self alteration amid exotic
flowers, deep-toned silks and velvets
and treasures of antique art, this
uItra-refned son Of the rugged
Abruzzi became, on the outbreak of
the world war, the Tyrtaus of
Italian nationalism, the fame-worded
herald of liberty for the unre-
deemed sons of the Latin mother
land still PROSTATE under the Haps-
burg yoke. Afforded, by Italy's en-
trance into the war, test of his sim
cerity, he backed up his fiery war
harangues by en,isting in the Italian
army; he became an aviator, partic-
ipated in a number of airplane at
tacks on Austrian and Dalmatian
cities, was wounded, was once even
given up as missing, and earned the
rank of lieutenant colonel and a
number of medals and distinctions.
T,co Extremes
There IS an immense gulf sepa-
rating the two stages-that Of ex-
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

' ithout speaking a word, when she felt
herself seized with more brutal vio-
ler ce and dragged again toward the
precipice, she understood all. and
great sinister flash of light struck ter
ror to her soul.
"No, George, no! Let mo be! Let me
be! Only one minute! Listen Listen
One minute l want to tell you"--
Insane with terror she supplicated
him, writhing. She hoped to stop him,
to move him to pity.
Zone minute! Listen! love you!
Forgive me! Forgive me.'
She stammercd incoherent words des-
perately, feeling herself booming weak
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
The Second Phase

The erultont cry Of tkc daavn,
The dugle blast to the rescue
IN the lips OF the people elected.
See hoar l t1emble! See how stag
ger!
Into1icate aviM lore and acith won-
der,
He comes-Hc comes, the Lord invo
lie kindles the fires Of night; and
the thro6
OF his poaver IN TIE frenzy of blood
Passes anlheard and IN silence.
and thus He spoh% "Who, then.
shall I send,
O herald Of things that are sacred?
Who, then, shall carry our mes
sage9"
and l said: "Hcre am I. O Lord,
send me FORTH"
With aUhnt omen? What pact?
The omen hno1u, and the pact haze
[ learned.
And thus / obey HIS command,
Thus keep the uow of my soul.
My gasping soul is no longer clothed
h, flesh and bones to bear me
Ger rivers and mountains.
But already IN the graren milestone
aloft,
Where the Pleiades glimmer and
shine,
The stupendoa4s name / read,
And the neigh of Dioscuri chargers
hear.
O Victory, antethcred as the steed
That gra@es on the asphodels of
Rome,
Youthful as when the shado1cy dawn
Vas srept by the t1uelve cultures
soaring,
Thou aUhcn, / saW IN the desert sub
lime
Lcap from the rock of Ardea-
A leap that da@zled the Sunshine
AS achite as the breast of the heron.
80 Italy! @ France" I acclaim.
And aboue the bursting tombs,
Above thy nurels bristling,
| hear the thunder of eagles
Rushing on, to the eastward,
Every talon tearing the night.
The day is rising! The day is here!
Here is thy day, thy hour is here;
This, Italia, the hour elected
To fill the cup of thy glory
And croacn the magnificent ages!
Have not my verses announced 1t?
My hopeful vigils craved it?
Have my hatred and love invoked it,?
The leaden feet of Fas
Are no1v shod a1th ths ayings of sil-
Ter;
And on her marmorean brow
The double horned flame is lighted
Borne by the Liberator
Fronting the deO-bathed calley.
1t Is the omen! 1t is the omen!
Choose the state Of sovereign or
serf,
Choose bet,ceem rising and falling,
Choose betaUeem life or death.
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

er, losing her ground, seeing death be-
fore her.
"Assassin!" she then shrieked, furi-
Gus.
And she defended herself with her
nails, with her teeth, like beast.
"Assassin!" she shrieked, as she was
seized by the hair, thrown to the
ground on the edge Of the precipice,
lost.
The dog barked at the tragic group.
1t was brief and fierce struggle,
like the sudden outburst of supreme
hate which up to then had been smoul-
dering, unsuspected, in the hearts of
implacable enemies.
And they both crashed down to death
clasped in each others arms.
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
She stopped, restless.

SHc otOppcu, IeSIAcSS.
"Why do you keep turning around ?"
ut seems to me l hear a man walk
ing barefoot" responded George, in a
low voice. LET US stop"
They stopped, listened.
George was under the empire that
had frozen him in front Of the door
of the funeral chamber. All his being
trembled, fascinated by the mystery;
he seemed to have already crossed the
confines Of an unknown world.
at is Giardino," said Hippolyte. on
perceiving the dog which approached.
"He has followed u.s."
And several times she called the
faithful animal, which came running
friskily. She bent down to caress him.
spoke to him in the special tone she
habitually used when she petted ami
mails she was fond Of.
"You never leave your friend, do
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21


to actions that the world at large
the cold, reasoning world-styles
extravagant." Charles lie Bargy.
the French actor, wrote of him in
1918:
"1n conversation with d'Annunzio
during railway journey the poet ex-
planned to me his idea of life. To him
the only life worth living, ne said, was
one intense and violent. He was proud
to 60 to excess in everything, and said
that if ever it became impossible for
him to lead the existence of a SUPER
man-if ever he had to live like other
men, he would kill himself.
81 smiled and told him he was not
talking seriously. He regarded me
gravely and confded to me that in two
years time he would put an end to
himself. He added that he had chosen
a form Of death that every one would
speak Of; for not a particle of him
would persist; his being would be vola-
iv%1 nc So
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

'EHE war opened a new chapter in
the life of this twentieth century
Pctronius. Ever since the first days
Of the struggle d'Annun2io was
among those who most ardently
urged Italy to throw in her lot with
the Entente Allies against Germany
and Austria. The literary nihilist
was, overnight, one would say.
transformed into the most fiery Of
practical patriots and political ag-
tators. The world war, for him,
meant the final test of strength be-
tween ancient Latin civilization and
the barbarous upstart called Ger
man kultur. 1t also meant the
long-ycarned-for chance for free
ing the unredeemed Italian prov
inces.
He left the splendid isolation of
his "ivory tower" and entered the
field Of speechmaking, of infam-
matory newspaper articles and
pamphlets and other devices of
propaganda. The change of atti-
tude was remarkable; even, in
sense, epochmaking; but it was
not altogether unconditional. For,
after all, was d'Annunzio not a
pupil of Carducci, greatest singer
of the wounds and glories of i'm
mortal Italy? In 1912, the time of
the African war, the Italian censor
ship, anxious not to offend Austrian
sensibility, suppressed the famous
"Ode to the Dardanelles' and nine
other patriotic poems of d'Annun-
zio, containing illusions to Italia
Irredenta. But in October, 1914,
he could publish his great ode
"Arise, Italy" which has been
translated as follows by Walter
Littlefield, of "The New York
Times:
What horror and death
And 1c1at splendor neU-born
Are scattered abroad through the
night9
What savift-rising tempest ercites
Every flame faring bright
In the heouens above the land of the
Ldtins9
The day is coming! The day is at
hand!
And my uerses, s1citt-speeding
daughters
OF vengeance and anger,
What god, What hero, 1V1tdt man
Shall 1Ue acclaim, in the coming day?
No longer am l in the land of erile,
No longer the ashen-jaced stranger
am I,
No longer the Weaponless, lourelless
Outcdst.
Transfgured am I By m,orrel sur
prising,
And q Uirtue maternal
Uphfts and sustains me.
Tho Offering Of love an, I,
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
The First Phase

IT WOULD be out of place to give
a here an appreciation of this
"decadent" movement; i. may be
well to restate, very briefly and
therefore inadequately, its char
acterlstics. Starting from the creed
of extreme naturalism-the ideas
that "in nature nothing is bad' and
everything that is not only can but
ought to be reproduced in and by
art decadentiss, more or less con-
sciously directed and dogmatized by
group of Partisan artists and writ
ers, passed into a phase where it be-
came a revolt against naturalism
itself and its bondage to this sordid
and dissonant world of facts. Bau-
oelalre was the supreme prophet Of
this literary religion; and through
HIM and his diabolism, his love of
mystery and metaphysical eccen-
trlclty, his glorification of the NOR
Did and the decaying, of death itself
we can trace the influence of that
nrst and, in a sense, greatest Of all
"decadents," Edgar Allan Poe.
The philosophical outlook of the
movement may be summed up in the
term artistic nihilism": the belief
that nothing lasts, that there are no
permanent standards; that artistic
impression and sensation is the only
gauge of values; that everything is
out mood and mood is everything
and, since everything is but a
moments illusion, the only thing to
Oe strlven for is the pleasure of the
senses. From this substitution of
gu aesthetic for an ethic world con-
'sp1 there was but a step to mega
N'n Tor negation's sake-a negation
"Hicn was sometimes q weary and
indifferent pose, studied effort to
spoter le bourgeois, sometimes a
uerce and bitter religion of the mod.
erh crusader of unbelief.
Ever since his first literary sue
eeSs IN 1S97-he was merely fifteen
''"'s OF age then---d Annunzio was
afoent preacher of the artistic
A'n'lism of the decadent movement.
'"a ne was one of the preachers
NJ carry their message into prac-
tee.
am no. being OF this cen.
y he once said. II am a great
VI ancient days-sumptuous in
s''es and unable to control them.
- i've without pursuing any especial
ssesss' and my endless enthusiasm
S '0Se for the beautiful lead me
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

You? You never leave her?' The CRATE
full animal rolled in the dust.
George made few steps He felt a
great relief on feeling himself free
from Hippolytes arm: up to now this
contact had given him an indeinab!c
physical ureasiress. He imagined the
sudden and violent act he was about
to accomplish; he imagined the mortal
embrace of his arms around the body
of this woman. ard he would have liked
to touch her only at the supreme in
stant.
Come, come; We'll soon be there"
he said, preceding her in the direction
Of the olive trees, whi.encd by the
moonlight and stars.
He halted on the edge of the pla-
teau and turned round to make sure
that she was following him. Once
more he gazed around him distractedly,
as if to embrace the image and the
night. 1t seemed to him that on this
plateau the silence had become more
profund. Only the rhythmic beat of
the flax brake could be heard from the
distant fields.
"Come!' he repeated in a clear voice,
strengthened by sudden energy.
And, passing between the twisted
trunks, feeling beneath his feet the
softness Of the grass, he directed his
steps toward the edge of the precipice.
This edge formed a circular projec-
ton, entirely free in every direction
without any kind of railing. George
pressed his hands on his knees, bent
his body forward on this support and
advanced his head cautiously. He ex-
amined the rocks below him, he saw a
corner of the sandy beach.
"Take care!" cried Hippolyte, as she
came UP to him. "Take care!"
The dog barked among the olive trees.
"Do you hear me. George? Come
away!"
The promontory fell perpendicularly
down to the black and deserted rocks.
around which the water scarcely moved,
splashing fecbly, rocking in it's slow
undulations the reflections Of the stars.
"Gcorge! Gcorg!"
"Have no fear" he said in hoarse
voice. Come nearer! Come! Come
and see the fisherman, fishing by
torchlight among the rocks"
"No, no! am afraid of vertigo"
"Comel will hold you"
"No, MOI"
"She seemed frozen by the unusual
tone in Georges voice, and vague
fright seemed to invade her.
"Come."
And he approached her, his arms ex-
tended. Suddenly he seized her wrists,
dragged her several steps, then he
seized her in his arms, made q bound
and attempted to force her toward the
abyss.
"No! No! Mo-"
She resisted with furious energy.
She succeeded in discouraging her
self, jumped back, painting and trem-
bling.
"Are you mad?" she cried, choked
by anger. "Are you mad?
But when she saw him come after her
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

N0,c, determined that
Fiume shall belong to Italy,
despite the decision Of the
Versailles conference, he
heads an army Of rebels,
takes the city and defes the
lrOrId.
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
Annunzlo: Decadent, Patriot, Then Rebel

OF metal harder than their brotcs,
With strophes for infamy forged
Like the red-hot brand Of the iron
To mark the cheek and the shoulder
Of thief and Of traitor;
Thy silence alloued mutilation
By evil hands of destroyers;
And IN silence l drank the tears
That armed my souI that acas secret
IN bitter acrath and immortal.
Lo! By the rivers and streams I
By the triple secs of thy seacoasts
fve,
By thy children as get unborn,
By thy fathers still unacenged,
l swear thou shalt carUe IN stone
Each 1cord in the stone of Pola,
Pola Romanorum once, Polo on
AdrMtic,
Reconquered noav from the Lion.
Thy day is daacning! Thy golden
day is here!
Thy sister stands erect in the blds-
ing sun.
She is clad in the purple robe Of lcor.
Twofold aclngs grid her naked feet.
Bathed IN her burning tears,
Bathed IN her bitter blood,
Floacer sublime Of discord,
Nerer Nth beauty so great
Even IN times of her kingdom.
OF all her dripping sores
She has made a Uondrous dew,
With the multitude of her sins
She reuiues her morning star!
Like the double-edged ore of acar
Cleans her energy to acin
In the transparent depths of her
eyes.
Like the shylark she's ready to sing
On the fathomless summits Of death.
Reseated, acith tireless hands,
A new arorId fabric she'll aceare.
With barbarian alone against her.
Who shall be arith her, if not thous
The erdlted, the elected are ace,
And areU crush the hideous tribe.
We aciU 'cage acar facing the light.
We ariU smile achen ne hare to die.
For, tbs the sacred hour, O Lutins,
Of the reaping and the fighting.
Women, take scythes and reap!
Prepare neac bread for ne1O hunger!
Your men as compact as ears Of corn
Wiu strike hard, rank against rank,
Like stiff acheat under the Eastern
Wind.
O Victory, atnrelenting reaper,
/ feel upon my forehead, acaiting,
The freshness of the daeCn.
A s priest Of Mars to Lonuviun, chill
dren,
I sag: aye hare heard that which
pleaseth the god.
Hasten your hour, obey, and 90
forth.
fe are the seed Of neaU arorld.
A nd .oatroros most wondrous are yec
to be born.'
There can be no doubt that in
arousing Italian public opinion to
the necessity of joining the Allies,
in spite of the favorable offers with
which Austria tried 10 purchase
neutrality, d'Annunzio had promi-
nent part. In May, 1915, Italy at
last declared war. Then followed
d'Annunzio's career as a soldier and
aviator. When the United States
entered the struggle d'Anuunzio
addressed a message to the Ameri-
can people in which he said, in
part:
For the soul Of Italy to-day the
Capitol at Washington has become
beacon light. give the salute
Of Italy, of the Roman Capitol, to
the Capitol at Washington.
America has achieved a new birth
She has moulded for herself a new
heart This is the miracle wrought
by a righteous war, the miracle that
Unexpectedly to-day we of Italy see
performed beyond an ocean dis
honored by assassins and thieves"
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21
''The Triumph Of Death''

Here is a characteristic passage
of d'Annunzio the decadent. It is
the last chapter Of his novel, "The
Triumph of Life" perhaps best
known and most discussed in this
country of all his works:
Hippolyte lay upon the sofa, recon-
posed, pale, her eyes half closed At
the approach of her lover she smiled,
"They are beating the fax" said
Hippolyte, listening attentively to the
continuous rhythm.
"Let US go down." said George. "Let
us walk little. Let us go as far as
the olive trees yonder"
He seemed to hang on Hippolyte's
lips.
"No, no. Let US remain here. You
see in what state l am.'
What does that matter? Who will
see you? We shall not meet a living
soul at this hour. Come as you are.
Id go without my hat. The country
is almost like a garden for US. Let us
so down."
She hcsitated a fcw seconds. But
she, too, felt the need of fresh air. Of
getting away from this house that still
seemed to resound with the echo Of
her horrible laughs. "Let US 90 down" ("
she finally consented.
At these words George felt as IL his
heart had ceased to beat. With an
instructive movement he approached
the threshold Of tho illuminated room.
He cast toward the interior look of
anguish, look of farewell. A hurri-
cane of recollections arose in his dis
tracted soul.
"shall We leave TIE lamp ht7" he
New-York tribune., 1919-09-21

George offered her his arm.
"Do you want to lean on me?"
She took Georges arm.
They walked several steps in silence.
The night was bright, glorious in all
directions. The Great Bear shone on
their heads in all its sextuple mystery
Silent and pure as the heaven above,
the Adriatic gave as the only indication
of it's existence its respiration and it's
perfume.
"Why do you hurry me so?' asked
Hippolyte.
George slowed down his step. Domi-
mated by single thought, pursued by
the necessity of the act, he had only
a confused consciousness for every
disntegrate, to decompose, to dissolve
in a heavy fermentation that invaded
even the deepest depths of his being
and brought to the surface shapeess
fragments, Of diverse nature, as little
recognizable as if they had not be-
longed to the life of the same man.
All these strange, inextrcable, ab-
rupt, violent things he vaguely per-
ceived as if in half slumber, while, at
the same time, one single point in his
brain retained an extraordinary lucid
ity, and, in rigid line, guided him
toward the fatal act.
"How melancholy the sound of the
flax brake in that field is," said Hippo
lyte, stopping. GAIL night long they
beat the flax. Does that not make you
feel melancholy?