Okay, yep. But that merely places Neapolitan culture amongst many, many, others that incorporate an awareness of death into their lives. For example, in my cou

Okay, yep. But that merely places Neapolitan culture amongst many, many, others that incorporate an awareness of death into their lives. For example, in my country, to the native Maori, their dead ancestors are directly present in their mihi (greetings), they carve them into the rafters of their marae (meeting houses) so they can sleep under the benevolent gaze of their hapu's predecessors, and most notably different to us Pakeha (European) Kiwi, they visit routinely with their deceased and lovingly maintain the graves in their urupa (graveyards) - far more so than Pakeha do. And as for living with an awareness of impending death thanks to volcanoes, I grew up in the shadows of Mt Ngauruhoe (featured as Mt Doom in the LOTR movies), Mt Ruapehu and Mt Tongariro when I was growing up in the army base at Waiouru, after my Dad was posted to Burnham in the South Island, I had several years of nightmares of my family home being destroyed by lava. Even though Ngauruhoe was less eruptive than Ruapehu (which had killed significantly more people in historical times[1]) it had the classic conical stratovolcano shape, and in my youth was often emitting steam from the crater, which, to a 6 year old, implies eruptions and lava and tigers and bears oh my. And then of course, after having been in the central business district during the Christchurch 2011 earthquake, and helping to rescue the injured (we had to ignore the dead despite the emotional impact of doing so, because well, if you're going to remove rubble from someone during continual aftershocks which could bring a building down on you, you're wanting to risk your life for someone who may live[2]) I continued to commute into the city afterwards despite the continual aftershocks and the fear we all shared. I mean, I guess death didn't become a permanent part of our culture, but in my city, for at least six years or so, it was part of your life, your decision to go to work, you drove past the buildings where people had died, you walked past the corner where you tried to save a man and failed, on your way to team lunch. But as a broad generalisation, Pakeha culture is all about burying or cremating the dead, mourning them, and then moving on. Yet my city, well, my city has only just moved on, and very many of us lived with the presence and potential of death for years. So yeah, I struggle to understand why Naples allegedly has an insight deeper than most, and I'm tempted to make a sarcastic comment attributing it to the Camorra. [1]https://www.nzonscreen.com/embed/5f8d20597c8f21e7 https://www.nzonscreen.com/embed/5f8d20597c8f21e7 <- Film about the 1951 Tangiwai disaster, wherein a lahar destroyed a bridge shortly before a heavily laden express train crossed it. Tangiwai being the name of the river the lahar flowed down, and being the Maori for "Weeping waters" because cruel fate seems to enjoy apt names [2]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veDBWTcd8jc https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veDBWTcd8jc The Indian man at 4:07 kindly gave up the back seat of his car (blocked in the middle of an intersection by fallen debris so not going anywhere fast) for me to place an injured woman we'd dug out while I checked her injuries - his son was terrified, fair enough, I smiled broadly and told him in my happiest voice that everything was going to fine, he gave me a very dubious "lol you're smoking crack mate" look, and I realised I was trying to reassure myself. Then the next aftershock came - we were lucky because it susurrated its way up Manchester St - the sound of screams and shaking trees moving toward us gave people sufficient time to move away from the rubble under buildings to avoid further falling masonry.