A travelogue revealing the hidden stories of Naples. In recent years Naples has become, for better or worse, the new destination in Italy. While many of its more unusual features are on display for all to see, the stories behind them remain largely hidden. In Marius Kociejowski’s portrait of this baffling city, the serpent can be many things: Vesuvius, the mafia-like Camorra, the outlying Phlegrean Fields (which, geologically speaking, constitute the second most dangerous area on the planet). It is all these things that have, at one time or another, put paid to the higher aspirations of Neapolitans themselves. Naples is simultaneously the city of light, sometimes blindingly so, and the city of darkness, although often the stuff of cliché. The boundary that separates death from life is porous in the extreme: the dead inhabit the world of the living and vice versa. The Serpent Coiled in Naples is a travelogue, a meditation on mortality, and much else besides.

Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book. Sample Book Insights: #1 Martorelli’s book is a 738-page treatise on a bronze octagonal inkpot that was subsequently housed in the museum at Portici. It is the only proof of its former existence. The book is still available for inspection and purchase. #2 Martorelli’s book was a 738-page treatise on a bronze octagonal inkpot that was subsequently housed in the museum at Portici. It was the only proof of its former existence. The book is still available for inspection and purchase. #3 Martorelli’s theory that Homer lived in Naples and founded the university there was not well received, and he lost his reputation. He began to believe that much of what we take to be Greek culture was in fact exported from ancient Italy to Greece. #4 Jacopo Martorelli was a Neapolitan philosopher who wrote a 738-page treatise on a bronze octagonal inkpot that was subsequently housed in the museum at Portici. He believed that much of what we consider Greek culture was actually imported from ancient Italy to Greece.

Marius Kociejowski follows up his now classic The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool with The Pigeon Wars of Damascus. A metaphysical journalist in search of echoes rather than analogies, hints as opposed to verities, Kociejowski discovers once again at the periphery of Damascene society—for the outcast is often made of the very thing that rejects him—a way to understand the challenges and changes refashioning post-9/11 Syria and the Middle East, reminding us once again of the deeper purpose of travel: to absorb and understand the spirit of a place, and to return changed.

Two decades ago a critic characterised Marius Kociejowski as a poet 'whose imagination prowls the geographical boundaries of western culture'. He has a Polish name, was born in Canada, and lives in London where he collects other exiles, listens to their lives and writes them up. God's Zoo (Carcanet, 2014), Evan Jones describes as 'a world journey through London's exiled and émigré artists, writers, poets and musicians'. He likes middle-length forms, less the lyric than the epylion, the epistle, dramatic monologue and eclogue. One of his tutelary spirits is the great Leopardi. Music is everywhere, notably Chopin and George Sand: music seems to propose some of the forms he chooses and how he modulates them. 'All parts give meaning to the whole,' he says, and proves it again and again. Kociejowski has produced over the last five decades a fine, refined body of work which this book celebrates.

The definitive companion for anyone seeking to delve beneath the surface of Naples. Naples is an Italian city like no other. Drama and darkness are often associated with the city, which rests beneath active Mount Vesuvius and is the home of the Camorra - its version of the mafia. But beyond this, Naples reveals itself to be one of the most historically and culturally vibrant cities in Europe. From its origins in Homer's Odyssey and its founding nearly 3,000 years ago, Naples has long attracted travellers, artists and foreign rulers - from the visitors of The Grand Tour to Goethe, Nelson, Dickens and Neruda. The stunning beauty of its natural setting coupled with the charms of its colourful past and lively present - from the ruins of Pompeii to the glittering performances of the San Carlo opera house - continue to seduce all those who explore Naples today. In the Shadow of Vesuvius is a sparkling portrait of the city - the definitive companion for anyone seeking to delve beneath its surface.

First published by Calvino--this long-suppressed novel of a city under deluge shows a darker Naples, on the verge of collapse

Across the Roman Empire, ubiquitous archaeological, art historical, and literary evidence attests to the significance of bathing for Romans' routines and relationships. Public baths were popularly viewed as necessities of daily life and important social venues. Given the importance of bathing to the Roman style of living, by endowing eight magnificent baths (the so-called imperial thermae) in the city of Rome between 25 BCE - 315 CE, imperial patrons greatly enhanced their popular and political stature. Decoration and Display in Rome's Imperial Thermae presents a detailed analysis of the extensive decoration of the best preserved of these bathing complexes, the Baths of Caracalla (inaugurated 216 CE). Maryl B. Gensheimer takes an interdisciplinary approach to existing archaeological data, textual and visual sources, and anthropological theories in order to generate a new understanding of the visual experience of the Baths of Caracalla and show how the decoration played a critical role in advancing imperial agendas. This reassessment of one of the most ambitious and sophisticated examples of large-scale architectural patronage in Classical antiquity examines the specific mechanisms through which an imperial patron could use architectural decoration to emphasize his own unique sociopolitical position relative to the thousands of people who enjoyed his benefaction. The case studies addressed herein--ranging from architectural to freestanding sculpture and mosaic--demonstrate that sponsoring monumental baths was hardly an act of altruism. Rather, even while they provided recreation for elite and sub-altern Romans alike, such buildings were concerned primarily with dynastic legitimacy and imperial largess. Decorative programs articulated these themes by consistently drawing analogies between the subjects of the decoration and the emperor who had paid for it. The unified decorative program--and the messages of imperial power therein--adroitly honored the emperor and consolidated his reputation.