From the Latin "in the midst of lands", the Mediterranean evokes classicism, contaminations, and blue skies on which to project a desire: that of managing to capture the traits of a common identity. While the historian's gaze seems to refute the idea of Mediterranean-ness – David Abulafia defines it in this volume as a fragmented space, in which even in the past the encounter between cultures was the exception in some cosmopolitan cities rather than the rule – it is the Muses that are attracted to it. The melancholic and reflective vein of the songs evoked by the Turkish musician Zülfü Livaneli, the proverbial conviviality and the celebration of leisure praised by Matteo Nucci are viewed with a mix of fascination and disapproval by countries with a Protestant background: the nobility of the Greek profile of homo mediterraneus can instantly become a scornful caricature synonymous with lassitude and cultural backwardness. However one may define it, the Mediterranean appears to be in crisis: neglected by the European Union, which views the North African and Levantine coasts only as a threat and energy resource, it is the crossroads of one of the largest migrations in history. While every year hundreds of millions of vacationers flock to its shores, as in a distorting mirror hundreds of thousands of people undertake a dramatic journey in the opposite direction to escape wars, persecution, and poverty. The liquid road, as Homer called it, is increasingly militarized, busy, and polluted, as well as overheated and overfished. Viewed from the North African coasts, rather than a Mare nostrum it seems a wall dividing the Arab world from the European, a source of division rather than a crossroads of cultures. It would be wiser to praise its variety than to seek a fleeting common identity, but perhaps Mediterranean-ness is nothing more than a feeling, and as such does not want to hear reasons. Despite everything, it remains fascinating, reassuring, and comforting. Along its shores modernity does not take hold completely, time flows differently, and peoples converse more than elsewhere. And if homo mediterraneus were to come again?
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From the Latin "in the midst of lands", the Mediterranean evokes classicism, contaminations, and blue skies on which to project a desire: that of managing to capture the traits of a common identity. While the historian's gaze seems to refute the idea of Mediterranean-ness – David Abulafia defines it in this volume as a fragmented space, in which even in the past the encounter between cultures was the exception in some cosmopolitan cities rather than the rule – it is the Muses that are attracted to it. The melancholic and reflective vein of the songs evoked by the Turkish musician Zülfü Livaneli, the proverbial conviviality and the celebration of leisure praised by Matteo Nucci are viewed with a mix of fascination and disapproval by countries with a Protestant background: the nobility of the Greek profile of homo mediterraneus can instantly become a scornful caricature synonymous with lassitude and cultural backwardness. However one may define it, the Mediterranean appears to be in crisis: neglected by the European Union, which views the North African and Levantine coasts only as a threat and energy resource, it is the crossroads of one of the largest migrations in history. While every year hundreds of millions of vacationers flock to its shores, as in a distorting mirror hundreds of thousands of people undertake a dramatic journey in the opposite direction to escape wars, persecution, and poverty. The liquid road, as Homer called it, is increasingly militarized, busy, and polluted, as well as overheated and overfished. Viewed from the North African coasts, rather than a Mare nostrum it seems a wall dividing the Arab world from the European, a source of division rather than a crossroads of cultures. It would be wiser to praise its variety than to seek a fleeting common identity, but perhaps Mediterranean-ness is nothing more than a feeling, and as such does not want to hear reasons. Despite everything, it remains fascinating, reassuring, and comforting. Along its shores modernity does not take hold completely, time flows differently, and peoples converse more than elsewhere. And if homo mediterraneus were to come again?
