CORRESPONDENCErnLetter From Venicernby Andrei NavrozovrnAbout the TouristsrnSummer in Venice means tourists. Do Irnhate them? No more, I assure you, thanrna patient strieken with a mortal ihnessrnhates the individual viral agents, or virions,rnwhieh are draining the nueleie-synthesizingrnenergy of his body eells to replieaternthemselves. He hates the disease,rnwhich is making him weak, old, and uglyrneven as he awaits death, but it would takernan extraordinarily perverse human mindrnto revile a faceless submicroscopic particlernof the kind first described by mv compatriotrnDmitry Ivanovsky in 1892 and finallvrnshown to exist bv W.M. Stanley inrn193xrnWe loathe and fear epidemic plagues,rnevil tvrants with atom bombs, and evenrnfairy-tale ghosts and dragons, becausernthey and their like have left a record ofrnsuffering in our collective cultural memory,rnbut the truth is that our emotionsrnsimph cannot reach beyond the lightrnstage of the microscope, hnagine askingrna grieving widow, who has just lost herrnhusband to cancer, which characteristicrnof his killer she finds most repellent. Is itrnthe nucleic composition? I’he structurernof the capsid?rnThe whole deadh drama of the epidemicrnthat strikes Italy in summertime isrnthe faceless uniformity of the touristrnmass. As soon as the patient begins to runrna high temperature, hoping to allav thernfeverish, sweltering afternoon heat b’rncranking up bar awnings, opening cafernumbrellas, and hosing down the sidewalks,rnmillions of faceless virions in whiternsneakers throng eery vessel and swell everyrnnode. I have no medical training,rnand the term “sneakers” is, I am quite certain,rna hopelessly obsolete way of describingrnwhat the tra’elers in Europe have onrntheir feet.rnAll I can say is that these bulky polymerrnparcels are nearly alwavs white,rnwhich, given the variet’ and abundancernof consumer desires, and of technicalrnmeans for satisfying them, in the UnitedrnStates and elsewhere, is genuinely puzzling.rnIt is as though there existed in thernworld but a single shade of lipsfick, andrnjust one sort of perfume, both manufacturedrnin a factory bv the name of RedrnMoscow. Why not make them black,rnpink, pomegranate? Why not brandrnthem as eclipse black, whisper pink, passionrnred? Perhaps the explanation lies inrnthe fact that tourists in Italy are almost invariablyrnCaucasian, and white peoplernthink that so long as they are white, thickrnplastic foot coxerings are elegantly understated.rnIn Russia, people used to thinkrnthat army boots, unless they squeaked,rnwere inconspicuous.rnHere are two posters snatched from arnfairly expensive hotel in Rome, where Irnwent to meet the conductor EvelinornPido, down from his native Turin for thernseason premiere of La Traviata at thernTeatro dell’Opera. I was waiting for thernmaestro at the reception with our mutualrnLondon friend Didier de Cottignies,rnwhen my eyes fell on a bulletin boardrncompleteh’ covered vith dozens of similarrnannouncements. Though mystifiedrnand apprehensive, Didier nonethelessrncollaborated by diverting the desk’s attentionrnwhile I harvested them in sheaves:rnMichigan Catholic RadiornYour Escort: Carrani Incoming s.r.l.rn6:45 Wake Up Callrn6:30-10:00 Breakfastrn7:45 Departure St. Peter’s for CanonizationrnMass Meeting in LobbvrnFree AfternoonrnAnother memorandmn, which dealsrnmore explicitly with aspects of dress andrnbehavior, is headed ”Your Daily TourrnItinerar- LPRL/239″:rnLONDON, PARIS, ROMErnWelcome to Rome’.rnFrida’ 28th. Optional: Rome byrnNight &’ Dinner. Casual Clothes.rnSaturday 29th. Optional: VaticanrnMuseums. Comfortable Clothesrnbut No Shorts.rnOptional: Tivoli Gardens &rnDinner. Comfy’ Shoes,rnSmart/Casual Wear.rnSunday 30th. Airport.rnYour Tour Director:rnSusan & Veronica.rnThere you have it, 239 canonizationrnmass meetings in hotel lobbies and comfyrnshoes, 239 casual afternoons in optionalrnclothes, 239 Romes by Night, andrnthat’s only the bookings of a single tourrnoperator, “Trafalgar: The Best in Europe.”rnMultiplied by what, 20 loyal emplo’rnees of Michigan Catholic Radio?rnThat’s 4,780, or 9,560 sneakered feet.rnHow many Michigan Catholic Radios?rnHow many Trafalgars? Oh, thousands,rnso w^e’re easih- talking about a whiternsneaker for every man, woman, and childrnin Italy, a kind of global Imelda Marcosrnwardrobe in reverse, with identical itemsrnof footwear as far as the eye can see. No,rnwhat am I saying! If they all stood on arnsingle wardrobe shelf, at three sneakeredrnfeet to a sneakered meter they wouldrnstretch for something like 12 million kilometers.rnThe circumference of the earthrnat the equator, it may be recalled, is arnmere 40,000 kilometers.rnNaturally, here in Venice, as everywherernelse in Italy and in the rest ofrntourable Europe, the tourists wear thernsame-looking jeans, have the same-lookingrnknapsacks on their backs, and eat thernsame airline food as they approach theirrndestination. When the human virionsrndeviate from their cell-block, uniformrnnorm, it happens as inexplicably as arnprison riot on a hot summer’s night. Forrninstance, why is it that airlines providerntheir passengers with metal forks, spoons,rnand knives when everything else on theirrnfolding trays, including of course thernfood, is made of plastic? Why is it that isitorsrnto the Vatican may not wear shorts,rnwhen it is quite clear that the last vestigesrnof respect and decorum (to sav nothing ofrnany more narrowly religious sentiment)rnwere shed by the tourist mass a generationrnago? Why is it that Susan andrnVeronica are not lesbian activists, or atrnleast single mothers?rnIf one believes, as I do, that the mostrnlethal disease ever experienced byrnmankind is totalitarianism, one can onlvrnassume that European tourism is ‘et anotherrnof the many ways in which the citizensrnof Western democracies are preparingrnthemselves, and are being prepared,rnfor this imminent global plague. In ThernHistory of the Decline and Fall of the Ro-rn34/CHRONICLESrnrnrn