Who has aura in The Leopard?
The Leopard, obviously. But who am I to say?
First, what is aura?
If you are reading this Substack, or any Substack, chances are you don’t know what “aura” is—no offense. You might have it and might not know it, or if you are like me, you have been informed you do not have it. What is it?
According to Gen Z kids (like my kids), a person who has “aura” is cool, and - this is important - mysterious. This person doesn’t advertise their coolness, or try to hard at it. A person with aura has an unmistakable vibe that draws you in.
I found out about aura at family pizza night1 with my friend (fellow Substacker Miriam, of Coyote Trouble) and our families. Our two 17-year-old sons were trying to describe aura to us, their uncool Gen X mothers. In their typical teen brand of grouchy reticence, they did not want to do this. They found it annoying. They did not want us to even say “aura,” never mind “rizz.”
Upon some pleading, they named several people we all know (famous and familiar) and rendered their verdicts. My uncle Mark, apparently, has aura. Weird, but OK. Barack Obama has aura, they said. One of their fathers does and one doesn’t, I won’t say which is which. Same with their friends who are twins, one does, one doesn’t; again, I won’t say. Donald Trump has aura, but not to us (aura is in the eye of the beholder, we learned). But JD Vance has absolutely zero aura. I think Phoebe Bridgers does. LeBron James. Zendaya: yes. Timothée Chalamet, obviously.
So, what about us, Miriam and I asked.
“No.” The verdict was final. I was neither surprised, nor offended. I have never in my life dared assume that I might have aura, or any of its ancestral qualities like coolness, or rad-ness, or anything. Grooviness.
I went home and asked my younger son (who has too much aura to attend family pizza night) if I have aura. He, as the more obliging yet cool baby, said I did. I told him that he has aura, but his brother does not.
Don’t worry, they will never read this.
I tried to find a photo on Wikipedia Commons of the quality of aura. I was expecting a picture of Timothée Chalamet, or some diaphanous blob of color surrounding a human sitting in lotus position, like a New Age aura, but I got this:
According to Wikipedia, this is a marble statue of “Hebe or Aura,” from a temple in Athens, around 440 BC. Hebe is the Ancient Greek goddess of youth, or prime of life, and Aura was a nymph of the cool breeze.
Well, that’s convenient! Gen Z aura is, in fact, like a cool breeze: bracing, fleeting, impossible to pin down, fresh and youthful. And literally cool! In the statue, Aura’s clothes move as if by breeze, or by a wind machine on a very closed set for a highly fashionable photo shoot for a clothing label of which I have never heard.
So needless to say, aura is not a Gen Z invention, like skibidi Ohio. Aura is a timeless human quality, is it not? And, I learned, you can acquire “aura points,” or even “farm” aura, so there is hope for me yet.
So who has aura in The Leopard?
Are you watching The Leopard? This Italian-produced series on Netflix is based on the iconic Italian novel, Il Gattopardo, by Sicilian writer Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, also known as Giuseppe Tomasi, 11th Prince of Lampedusa, 12th Duke of Palma, Baron of Montechiaro, Baron of La Torretta, and Grandee of Spain of the first class. It was published posthumously in 1958, and tells the story of a noble family in Sicily contending with the social changes brought about by the Risorgimento, or the unification of Italy, in 1861.
“Ha! I’m learning about that in school,” my aura-infused son said as he walked in on me watching the show. “We’re learning about Italian nationalism, and Ganibani, and Mazoni, and Colvo.” He was very proud of himself.
Garibaldi, Mazzini, and Cavour: aura, all three.
The Netflix series is gorgeous, and adorned with the dramatic, tragic landscape of Sicily, the world capital of aura. The Prince of Salina (known as the Leopard for the figure on his family crest) is struggling to hold on to his dying way of life, as a Neo-feudal landlord and head of an aristocratic family in the Kingdom of Two Sicilies, ruled by the House of Bourbon-Two Sicilies. Meanwhile, Ganibani is arriving in Sicily with the Expedition of the Thousand to cut down Bourbon loyalists and bring Sicily into the new nation of Italy, ending the Southern kingdom and folding it into the Northern Italian House of Savoy. The seat of power is shifting to Turin, where the people taking charge don’t understand life in the South.
Watching The Leopard feels a little like watching a spaghetti Western, because 1860s Sicily looks and feels so much like the Wild West. I wonder if this sense of a fierce, ungovernable Sicily, the unstable frontier of a new nation, contributed to Sergio Leone’s inspiration for films like The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (Il Buono, Il Brutto, e Il Cattivo). The horses, hats, hoop skirts, and brutality all remind me as well of the HBO Wild West show Deadwood, imbued with that same sense of a parched land in upheaval, patrolled by wild creatures and a landscape to match. And of course, the Prince of Salina is the counterpart of Sheriff Bullock (AURA).
Miriam and I are watching The Leopard, while still trying to process the new aura world order. So, we wondered, which characters have aura? This is a show that is driven by a sense of mystery, of protective opacity; the characters’ sunken depths are being forced to the surface by a war and a new country that threatens their gilded existence. So there is plenty of aura, but it is unevenly distributed. Così è la vita.
Here are my assessments, with limited, non-fatal spoilers.
The Leopard himself, Don Fabrizio Corbera, the Prince of Salina. The paterfamilias who is trying to defend his family land and his native Sicily. Of course he has aura. He is all aura.
Tancredi Falconeri. Yes, aura. The Leopard’s charming nephew, whom he treats as a favorite son because his own son and heir, Don Paolo, has zero aura. Even when Tancredi defies his uncle and joins Ganibani’s Redshirts, he still remains close to his uncle’s heart, as well as the heart of…
Concetta Corbera: The Leopard’s daughter who is a Novice in a Convent before she returns to her family estates. She is in love with Tancredi and sadly has no aura. Too much pining loses you aura points.
The Mother Superior of Concetta’s Convent: She knows how to stick it to Don Fabrizio. Aura.
Don Fabrizio’s mistress, a local prostitute: Same. Aura.
Padre Pirrone: The Catholic priest Don Fabrizio drags around with him to legitimize his affairs. Granted no aura by the Lord.
Angelica Sedara: The ravishing daughter of the Mayor of Donnafugata. The actress’s mother is Monica Bellucci, so what do you think?
Don Calogero Sedara: Angelica’s father, the upstart Mayor of Donnafugata, where Don Fabrizio has a summer estate. No. Too striving, and no one named Calogero has aura. (PS: Donnafugata means “fugitive woman”)
Pietro Russo: Don Fabrizio’s steward. Honestly, I am not sure. He has too much crap to deal with to worry about aura.
Finally, and most importantly:
Bendicò: Don Fabrizio’s faithful dog and constant companion. In the book, I believe he was a Great Dane, but he is played wonderfully by an Irish Wolfhound in the series. Of course he has aura. Bendicò is a moving metaphor for Don Fabrizio and the fleeting nature of life that he loves. All dogs have aura, by the way.
So there you have it. Maybe you learned something about aura. Maybe tonight I will make an offering to the goddess Aura and see where that gets me. More likely, by the time you finish watching The Leopard, there will be a new concept for cool. And I won’t be that, either.
Pizza night is definitely the subject of a future Substack.
I have aura no matter what my son says