Yes, it would be a rollicking catch. I wish there were space to finish
the song, or to detail all the other sections in the Declaration.
Suffice it to say that Futurism has a gratifying dislike both of
Liberal politics and Christian morals; I say gratifying because,
however unfortunately the cross and the cap of liberty have quarrelled,
they are always united in the feeble hatred of such silly
megalomaniacs as these. They will "glorify war--the only true
hygiene of the world--militarism, patriotism, the destructive gesture
of Anarchism, the beautiful ideas which kill, and the scorn of woman."
They will "destroy museums, libraries, and fight against moralism,
feminism, and all utilitarian cowardice." The proclamation ends with
an extraordinary passage which I cannot understand at all, all about
something that is going to happen to Mr. Marinetti when he is forty.
As far as I can make out he will then be killed by other poets,
who will be overwhelmed with love and admiration for him.
"They will come against us from far away, from everywhere,
leaping on the cadence of their first poems, clawing the air with
crooked fingers and scenting at the Academy gates the good smell
of our decaying minds." Well, it is satisfactory to be told,
however obscurely, that this sort of thing is coming to an end
some day, to be replaced by some other tomfoolery. And though
I commonly refrain from clawing the air with crooked fingers,
I can assure Mr.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89