Introduction to the city of L’Aquila
L’Aquila—Before and After the earthquake
Perhaps you remember hearing about a powerful earthquake in the region of Abruzzo in April of 2009. The city of L’Aquila, which I have chosen as my regional highlight, was devastated. At right is a video that shows some before and after images of the capital city.
When I arrived in L’Aquila, almost 10 years after the earthquake, I was still wary of a kind of ‘disaster tourism’ tendency. For one, you can still see enormous cranes looming over the city from the highway. Even before spending significant time there, I remember even just driving near L’Aquila evoked some uncomfortable and uncanny feelings. For me, it was a sense of pity, mixed with superstition. I gazed over at the damaged city from afar, from the safety of our car, filled with curiosity and fear. In a way, L’Aquila has become the 21st century ‘shame of Italy’ as Matera was deemed when it was evacuated due to public health concerns in the 1950s.
A ruined building almost 10 years after the devastating earthquake in 2009
A satirical documentary called Draquila: L’italia che Trema (Draquila – Italy Shakes) came out in 2010. The creator, Sabina Guzzanti, is particularly critical of the way the “Protezione Civile” (civil protection agency) handled (or did not handle) the crisis. Guzzanti also implicates former prime minister Berlusconi for using the disaster to bolster his image as savior; he took the opportunity for photo-ops with a hardhat on and (misogynistic) jokes about bringing girls to the rebuilding sites, but the film shows that a year after the earthquake the media attention has waned and the city is still in shambles. Read more about it here. To be fair, Berlusconi did move the G8 summit to L’Aquila creating global exposure for the crisis, but the criticism is, of course, this showmanship is not enough. On April 9th, the 6.3 magnitude earthquake greatly damaged the historical city of L’Aquila: “1500 people were injured, 202 of them seriously, 308 lost their lives, 67,500 became homeless, 100,000 buildings were damaged. Between 1.5 and 3 million, and 4 and 5 million tons of waste were generated. The cost of the damage was estimated to be 16 billion Euros,” according to an article in Science Direct. The government is still criticized for stagnation in the rebuilding process. In fact, while walking around the historic center in 2019, with cranes still hanging overhead, I overhead multiple people commenting on the state of the city. The conversations about the urban landscape have become a 4th dimensional component of the landscape.
The 15th century Basilica of San Bernardino with scaffolding in L’Aquila
Considering all of this, however, my thesis on L’Aquila and the region of Abruzzo is not about shame. The rebuilding process now forms a part of what is still a beautiful city, worthy of visitation and exploration. Granted, there is an element of ‘beauty in ruin’. This is ruin of a drastic kind; the result of a natural disaster that attempted to shake the 13th century foundations of this capital city. Indeed, this 2009 earthquake is not an isolated incident, given the geographical location of the city; there were serious earthquakes in the 14th, 15th, 16th and 17th and 18th centuries, and a big one in the middle of the 20th century (1958). This knowledge adds to the character of the city and the palpable atmosphere when you visit. For example, you also hear a refrain focusing on the strength of the city, of the inhabitants, and indeed, there is a positive energy in the city. This energy whispered regeneration, rebirth, and resilience. I felt very inspired while walking around the city. I wanted to write; I felt that intoxicating feeling of the power of place. That is because the beauty is still evident. In a way, it is even more prominent when contrasted with scaffolding, cranes and partially ruined buildings.
Again, the concept of the sublime is relevant, especially in the idea that negative emotions can have a more potent effect than positive ones. In the case of L’Aquila, the negative and the positive are fused together. The city is named after a majestic bird (‘aquila’ is eagle in Italian), and it was founded and glorified 8 centuries ago by mortals with ‘great’ power, but the force of nature can indeed demonstrate who has the real power at any moment. The argument here turns metaphysical, of course (but isn’t it always at the core?) At any moment, nature can remind us of our eventual yet inevitable demise, but also our mortality. The beauty in ruin, however, is more than that. Perhaps it is a more positive interpretation of the argument. Something does remain albeit crumbling, vulnerable. L’Aquila does not remain now in the state it once was, but it should make us treasure it even more, and remember that it (it all) is not guaranteed to us.
A view of L’Aquila
The beauty and power in the city of L’Aquilia remind me of the poem “Ozymandias” by Romantic writer Percy Bysshe Shelley in which he describes the remains of an ancient statue of the ‘great’ Egyptian ruler Ramses II:
“Nothing beside remains. Round the decay / Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare / The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
There is a lot to consider in the themes of the poem, and I believe different interpretations are valid. I urge you to visit L’Aquila and experience for yourself. Where Shelley describes the ‘lone and level sands’, L’Aquila, on the other hand, is surrounded by greenery and mountains.