Exactly one week ago today we had what, for me (and for its starring participant, not to mention said participant’s parents) was one of the more extraordinary experiences of my eventful life.
The scene: The University of Padua, founded 1222.
Protagonist: Matteo Paganini, once a student at the Morosini Naval College where Lino taught him Venetian rowing, and till June 24 an aspiring M.D.
Occasion: Defending his thesis and being awarded (he hoped) his degree, diploma, laurel wreath, and future.
University students here don’t graduate en masse, as they do in the U.S.; they are hatched one by one, though in some periods, such as now, they seem to come out on an assembly line.
I’d seen plenty of these festivities in Venice, particularly around Dorsoduro, the sestiere where the two Venetian universities are located. Bunches of roaming students accompany the newly-minted graduate to some spot where they can celebrate by throwing eggs, flour, and other substances on him or her, and occasionally break into a doggerel ditty which I’m not going to translate, not because it’s blue, but because it’s stupid. Its purpose is to take the graduate down a peg. Many pegs.
In fact, having only seen the partying all these years caused me to lose sight of the fundamental reason for the carrying-on. Our day in Padua changed that, because before the fun there had to come the cross-examination. And when the person who has spent six (6) years studying in order to reach this moment of running across the intellectual bed of incandescent burning coals, the academic version of running the gantlet, it’s a pretty intense experience not only for him, but for everyone who cares about him.
It didn’t appear to be so intense for the board of examiners, partly because they’ve done it 157,000 times; partly because they have no stake in the outcome (at last they’re not supposed to!); partly because it was possibly the 20th such session they’d held that morning; and partly (how many parts am I up to?) because it was hotter than the hinges of hell and they were all caparisoned in heavy academic robes.
To my surprise, I was awash in pride and joy, and if little me could feel so much, I can’t even imagine how proud he must have been, to say nothing of his long-suffering and -paying parents, who didn’t give any sign that they were experiencing what had to have been Olympic-level kvelling.
The images below depict the outlines of this enterprise. But I’ll give away the ending: He was awarded his degree as Doctor of Medicine summa cum laude. When he finished his presentation, he was told he had earned 110 e lode, which corresponds to magna cum laude, but then he was given a stunning bonus: a “menzione di eccellenza,” literally “mention of excellence,” which put him at the summit of Everest, the absolute peak of academic achievement.
And all this from a university whose alumni include Nicolaus Copernicus, Torquato Tasso, St. Francis de Sales, Galileo Galilei, and William Harvey. Not to forget Elena Lucrezia Piscopia Corner, the first woman in the world to be awarded a university diploma (1678). And Federico Faggin, designer of the first commercial microprocessor. Age has done nothing to dim this academy’s luster.
Evviva,Matteo! Lino must be so proud of his student (who is, by the way, adorable, with or without his laurel wreath and his shirt).
I love the practice of having family and friends there to support the candidate when he defends his thesis. It seems a lonelier process in the U.S., though we did take R’s daughter out for a good dinner when she was awarded her PhD. (She got flowers, but I think she would have appreciated the laurel wreath more.)
thanks for sharing this experience. I see the hazing aspect in the streets of Venice, but I have never seen behind the scenes and the real purpose of the event.
I neglected to mention that this is a practice that seems to be unique to the Veneto. People who know about these things say they’ve never seen this celebration in Rome or Bologna. The reason behind it is probably very complex and deep, but I haven’t had time to get to the bottom of it. As a way of blowing off steam — of which there must be quite a lot by that point — it’s probably unequaled. But if you don’t care about the person, it looks pretty dumb.
Erla….what a wonderful post!!
Terrific photos….showing the tension…..and the ultimate celebration!!
Brought tears to my eyes….what a bright future he has!!!!
Erla, just letting you know that I check this out ever so often. Very interesting. Definitely don’t have this sort of thing in Nashville:). Keep up the writing & sharing. Love from TN!
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Evviva,Matteo! Lino must be so proud of his student (who is, by the way, adorable, with or without his laurel wreath and his shirt).
I love the practice of having family and friends there to support the candidate when he defends his thesis. It seems a lonelier process in the U.S., though we did take R’s daughter out for a good dinner when she was awarded her PhD. (She got flowers, but I think she would have appreciated the laurel wreath more.)
thanks for sharing this experience. I see the hazing aspect in the streets of Venice, but I have never seen behind the scenes and the real purpose of the event.
I neglected to mention that this is a practice that seems to be unique to the Veneto. People who know about these things say they’ve never seen this celebration in Rome or Bologna. The reason behind it is probably very complex and deep, but I haven’t had time to get to the bottom of it. As a way of blowing off steam — of which there must be quite a lot by that point — it’s probably unequaled. But if you don’t care about the person, it looks pretty dumb.
Erla….what a wonderful post!!
Terrific photos….showing the tension…..and the ultimate celebration!!
Brought tears to my eyes….what a bright future he has!!!!
Matteo will have a wonderful record of his special day, thanks to you, Erla. So much life! So much love!! And you capture it all.
This is wonderful — I enjoyed this so much, congratulations to your friend.
Erla, just letting you know that I check this out ever so often. Very interesting. Definitely don’t have this sort of thing in Nashville:). Keep up the writing & sharing. Love from TN!
Thanks, Rhea. But you’ve got the Opry!