A Soldier of The Great War, what a book! When the last page is flipped over, I couldn't help sinking into deep thought. Previously whenever I finished a book, I always jump right into the next book eagerly, for that was just one more accomplishment for me. Yet this time, I felt like I want to hang on to the book, to relish the saga a bit longer, to reflect on the beauty shown through the main character Alessandro. Via Alessandro’s eye, I see the exquisiteness of the world like I never knew before. At points, I felt like I could even see love, not as an abstraction, but something tangible.
The book was recommended to me several times. I have started to read it a couple years ago, but was not able to go on; I found my book mark on page 37. On the book cover, a contemplative old man with silver white hair and mustache sitting in front of a fountain. His both hands clasp on a cane,his eyes gazing firmly in the distance. With a title like that and the portrait, I envisioned the book is about brutal, fierce battles, artillery shells bombardments, blood drenched battle fields, wounded soldiers’ groaning,and a hero who was full of valor has survived the war. I didn’t have the intention to finish it even before I started.
It turned out that I couldn’t be more wrong. The story starts in 1964, an August day, septuagenarian war veteran Alessandro was on his way to see his great grand-daughter. When the bus driver deliberately left a young boy Nicolo behind, Out of indignation, Alessandro decided to take the long journey with Nicolo by walking seventy kilometers of mountain road. The humorous conversations between the retired erudite professor of aesthetics and the illiterate factory apprentice are so amusing, they made me laugh. Having been reading so many serious books, I couldn’t recall last time I have laughed so hard when reading a book.
The following chapters are the narratives of Alessandro’s life fragments. Little Alessandro went mountain climbing with his father, vigorous and restless Alessandro went train jumping with his best friend Rafi, harsh time fighting trench battles with Austrian soldiers as a river guards, hunting for deserter,becoming one of deserters, tough time in prison camp, being sent back to the front line, injured and met the love of his life, witnessing her being blown up to ashes, and heart-stopping escape as a prisoner of war. But overshadowing all is his most miraculous and terrible adventure, the Great War – a surreal parade of horrors that devastated and defined Alessandro, yet enabled him to experience fully the magic and beauty of the absurd human comedy called life.
I once crossed a debate on a forum I like to visit, people are arguing fiercely about who can be called elites. Some said the so-called successful business men, others talked about people who have graduated from Ivy Leagues, earning more than six or seven figures. Yet someone else jumped out and despised the rest, saying his respectable teachers and professors are elites. Nobody can agree on the criteria. Yet for me, I have a model, he is Alessandro. I think an elite is a person who has quite depth of character, whose intellect is disciplined by the mortification of his flesh, which in turn serves his soul. Elite is a person who is full of love, yet is not affected by earthly temptation. Elite is a person who can always see beauty in what God has created for us under all circumstances.
Driving to work these days, I started to pay more attentions to my surroundings. Everything seems much clearer than before, leaves are livelier,and the colors of flowers are more vivid, sky is more pristine, it is like my vision has been obscured by a film on my car windows before, and now all of the sudden, the film is removed and a crystal clear world is revealed to me. I wondered I have learned something from Alessandro, maybe a bit more appreciation and a bit more aesthetics.
