Loretta Marcon

“The bright levity of melancholy”

Biography:

Loretta Marcon lives in Padua, where she graduated in pedagogy and philosophy. In 2005 he received her Teaching in Religious Studies.
For fifteen years he devoted herself with passion, to research and deepening of the philosophical thought of Giacomo Leopardi, in contact with the National Center of Leopardi Studies of Recanati and Casa Leopardi.
To mark the bicentenary Leopardi (1998) has collaborated with the Department of Italian University of Padua staging the Bibliography Exhibition "Leopards and Venetian culture." On this occasion she is also devoted to the drafting boards of the Catalog on philosophical texts "Leopardi and Venetian culture" Tip. The Garangola, 1998).
In 2006, with the article: "Meeting" on the limit: Kant and Leopardi, she was awarded the first prize for literary essays in the Competition "G. Leopardi "organized by the circle C. Rebora "of Savigliano (CN)
In 2007 wins the prize for criticism Leopardi's "La Ginestra" with the essay: "Job and Leopardi. The dark night of the soul "
Loretta Marcon currently collaborates with the philosophical Centro Studi of Gallarate.

Critical comment : We "enter" the poetics of Loretta Marcon with a question ( "Let's sit, would you?".) adhering to a precise wording of bright lyrical lightness permeated by a poignant melancholy. The call to go through the door with an image suggestive continues, "in the arms of our words only..." and, as a rebound, the only fades and dissolves in the depths of the reader, by transposing the particular into the universal movement of the soul in a language of figurative expression. The verses of Loretta Marcon evoke a lived-mirror that returns a figure that draws from the past ( "Feeling that it was") continuous meanings to re-interpret the present. Beware though, and here, condenses the strong message of the author's poetics: the present (the heart) is not trapped in "tin cans" and "the transparency of the soul" it is so not to dizzy heights, but, " at the side "of life, the ravines where at the best we capture the 'arrest' theoretically understood as" eternity. " In this sense, and only in this sense, poetry and world can come to possess the courage of synonymy, rather than being antithetical and impossible realities and Loretta Marcon performs these steps when resting on a persuasive melodic rhythm, linguistic, "philosophical." (Comment by Cristina Raddavero)
The poems: I Let's sit would you? in the arms of words only ours. Magic found in the shadow of stone already seen in the dream. II The foot is back on the old footprint. Along with the desire Search glossy leaves intact into the scent of the past. Feeling was present passion solid solitude. Companion and friend of moments fleeting like a breath of fog transient and sore III Deception of the mind Memory failure There is no shadow behind me No footprint on earth wet with rain or breathing light and pending. The thought wanders Along with the black clouds scuttles away escapes at the crowding of reason. Crosses the threshold beyond the wall Flying High oblivious of matter searches, search ... Approaches the island. Illusion. IV Too often robbed by soul by thieves of tenderness fugitives. Purses of pain Their gifts hidden by flowers. A lifelong of Glass and too melancholy. Unconsciousness. And the life that steals heart. Impossible to lock him up in the tin box with tears and growing up of memories. V Yet I walk breath live. I never will be part of the marble universe of passage. If I have to betray if I imprison in mundane haughtiness the transparency of the soul better be confused with walls grayish and poor

Critical comment :

We "enter" the poetics of Loretta Marcon with a question ( "Let's sit, would you?".) adhering to a precise wording of bright lyrical lightness permeated by a poignant melancholy.
The call to go through the door with an image suggestive continues, "in the arms of our words only..." and, as a rebound, the only fades and dissolves in the depths of the reader, by transposing the particular into the universal movement of the soul in a language of figurative expression.
The verses of Loretta Marcon evoke a lived-mirror that returns a figure that draws from the past ( "Feeling that it was") continuous meanings to re-interpret the present.
Beware though, and here, condenses the strong message of the author's poetics: the present (the heart) is not trapped in "tin cans" and "the transparency of the soul" it is so not to dizzy heights, but, " at the side "of life, the ravines where at the best we capture the 'arrest' theoretically understood as" eternity. "
In this sense, and only in this sense, poetry and world can come to possess the courage of synonymy, rather than being antithetical and impossible realities and Loretta Marcon performs these steps when resting on a persuasive melodic rhythm, linguistic, "philosophical."

(Comment by Cristina Raddavero)

The poems:

Let's sit
would you?
in the arms
of words
only
ours.

Magic
found
in the shadow
of stone
already seen
in the dream.

The foot is
back
on the old footprint.
Along with the desire
Search
glossy leaves intact
into the scent of the past.

Feeling was
present passion
solid solitude.

Companion
and friend
of moments
fleeting
like a breath of fog
transient and sore

III

Deception of the mind
Memory failure
There is no shadow behind me
No footprint on earth
wet with rain
or breathing light and pending.

The thought wanders
Along with the black clouds
scuttles away
escapes
at the crowding
of reason.

Crosses the threshold
beyond the wall
Flying High
oblivious of matter
searches, search ...
Approaches the island.
Illusion.

Too often
robbed
by soul
by thieves of tenderness
fugitives.
Purses of pain
Their gifts
hidden by flowers.

A lifelong
of Glass
and too melancholy.

Unconsciousness.

And the life that steals
heart.
Impossible to lock him up
in the tin
box
with tears
and growing up
of memories.

Yet I walk

breath
live.

I never will be
part
of the marble
universe
of passage.

If I have to betray
if I imprison
in
mundane
haughtiness
the transparency of the soul
better
be confused
with walls
grayish
and poor