English on request: about a fairytale house and English poetry

Ken Belton and me

This piece of writing is in English. On request, because some of my Italian friends wanted to be able to actually understand what I’m writing about (up until now, they were only able to lure at the pictures and to try and figure out what all these Dutch words could possibly mean). And because my Italian writing level is awful, but their reading level in English is perfect, the choice for English is obvious. At the same time it’s a big test for me: it's been ages since I've written English texts, so please don’t break my balls (figuratively speaking) if I make mistakes. 

I would like to introduce you to Ken, or Kenneth, a 79-year old joyful lad with a big white beard and British roots. He fell in love with Italy half a century ago, decided to build his life in Rome, and started to work as a speaker for RAI, which means that his voice used to be the most important tool for the job. His readings of poetry, for instance, are still travelling around the world.  Next to that, Ken is a man in search for wisdom and purification of his soul and body. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, eats vegetarian food, practices yoga and trains his brain through meditation. And by the way: he’s a terrific vegetarian cook.

Ken lives somewhere in the countryside, about 100 km north of Rome, in a house that you only find in fairytales: towering proud on top of a small hill, a river running below. Before entering the stretched piece of land around the house, the road leads you first in big circles around the hill. So there you are, sitting in the car, with a splendid view of the house –the latter smiling from above as if it wants to dare you … will you or will you not be able to reach my door, the final goal of the trip?

When Ken welcomes you in,  you’re taken aback by the amount of books and paintings and pieces of art scattered all over the place. The house is a labyrinth of unexpected walls and stairs that lead to all kinds of rooms: bathrooms, writing &reading rooms, several bedrooms, and a tiny little attic room. When you step out on the terrace, the view is breathtaking: olive trees as far you can see. Not to forget the smell of rosemary, mint and thyme to remind you you’re at the Italian countryside. 

If I try to see the house as an extension of this fascinating man, I ask myself the question whether I should see the abundance in this house as a symbolic statement of his artistic and philosophic soul, or as some kind of counterweight. There are a thousand books to feed his intelligence, there are hundreds of paintings to ease his need for beauty. But what puzzles me is the fact that all these earthly belongings seem to clash with all the ideas he stands for: fullness, enlightenment and an inner state of acceptance. Once you’ve reached all this, you’re not supposed to need outer things to make you feel safe. But maybe I’m just projecting my own ideas now on what I have seen. 

And here’s a funny thing: Ken loves to give away all he has. All the wonderful old vases, stunning paintings, sketches, mirrors, bedside furniture, tables … are there just to make other people happy. So maybe he buys beautiful objects because he likes to do so and can’t help himself spending money, just to realize after a while that he doesn’t need them, or worse, that in an absurd way, he doesn’t deserve them. So he turns this awkward, unsettling feeling into a good one: he gives them away in order to make other people happy. Filling up the place and space to be able to empty it again. But again, maybe I’m just projecting. The fact is that my host Andrea and I drove away from the house with a painting, a stone cut table and an old Persian hand painted bracelet (the latter being a present to me). 

Ken is witty –all these years in Italy couldn’t beat the British humour out of him- but what impressed me most: Ken writes fantastic poetry.  On his website –yes, indeed, he’s completely tuned in to our modern age of communication- you will find an enormous amount of poems –from 1948 up until now- and most impressive of all: you’ll find readings of his poems. Download and listen to a few of them and enjoy the wonders of his particular voice  … maybe you’ll recognize it? Just go ahead and be amazed. I certainly just love it: www.kennethbelton.net