Memories from someone with the same name as you

Well, okay, on popular request (??), I will try to translate in English my last post... Hard task, believe me...

What I tried to say was...

... For anyone interested in Taormina, at the beginning of the XX c., in this small city of fishermen and peasants that became one of the favorite touristic places of Europeans travelling to Italy, this postcard, sent from Taormina on February 24, in 1903, to a French (who else ? note of the translator) correspondent, provides a lot of matter of dream about....

If  Taormina was such a place to visit for so many men from England, Germany, France or Poland, Americas or Asia, it was not only because of its splendid panorama, with Mount Etna and Mediterranean sea, it was not only for its scenic ancient Greek remains, for example, its Greek Theater...

Many of these foreign visitors were trying to get to the source of those totally new images, circulating since the late years of the XIX c. and shown only among men sharing the same sensitivity and the same sexuality. Ephebs featured on von Gloeden's albuminate photographs inspired a desire to see more, to go through the mirror of representation and to share a vision, a moment of life, or more, if affinity, with a face or a gaze, with the curve of a torso, with the outline of a body, with a memory or a hope, exposed to the Sicilian sun...

"Memories from someone with the same name as you". This is a laconic formula. What is expressed here, what is concealed ? The Greek theater of Taormina suggests a lot of things, while the word "memories", undeveloped, leaves few room to interpretation...

What was unsaid, and why ?

And why such a game about identity ? "Someone with the same name as you"... Does one ever meet such a person ? Such a meeting is probably as fascinating as a view one as one oneself while looking at a mirror....

What is at stake here is the name... Name defines my identity, provides me with a place in a genealogy, with a status in the registry office of my city and of my country... My name is supposed to be unique, to be mine and to make me different from anyone else.

Someone with the same name as me is just another me... !

But may I share the memories of someone else ? What he lived, what he felt, who he loved, who he drealt bout should be already in my memory ?

"Memories from someone with the same name as you...".

Who are you ? What is my name ? I should look at the reverse side of the postcard to know it...

For now, I prefer to dream that your name is mine, I will look at the reverse side of the postcard tomorrow...