The Manifesto Of Futurism

CE ED The Manifesto Of Futurism

1. We want to sing - the love of danger -the habit of energy -and rashness

2.

o f o u r

be

-

T

e h

ts

en

em

l le

tia

n se s e

- courage - audacity - and revolt.

p

oet ry

wil l

3. Literature has

UP to now magnified -

- pensive immorality - ecstacy - and slumber

We want to exalt movements of aggression, feverish sleeplessness, the double march, the perilous leap, the slap and the blow with the fist.

4.

We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed.

A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.

t n a w

5.

We

he sing t

ed alo ng its

orbit.

man a t the id the whee l, e earth al axis of w , hich c itself r o sses t hurl he

to

6.The poet must spend himself with -

- warmth - glamour - and prodigality

- to increase the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.

B

u ea

7.

ty ex-

ists

only in

strug -

gl

e.

There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character.

Poetry must be a

-violent assaulton the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.

8.

We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! -

in g

in

s ab the

ng

ivi

in

the

ng

ivi in the

th

the hind at hindbe be

have since we

us mysterio open the t s u m e when w

et

et

lu so ab

men t

the

hav e al read y cr eate d the m

in

ent

ng ivi

in

mom d at the dbeohmin ent

yl

ad

of e s sinu the ce we

te,

m we en h w

s iou ter s y em th

is

lre

mnip r e s e nt sp eed.

e lute,ternal, om ing in the abso ni

ng

ivi yl

reatedsin already c ce w we have e

n pe

ing

a are

etern al, o

e,

lut so

ab liv We are already

im he t f so ter t u sh

le? sib s po

s iou r e t ys ok m f lo e at o h t se ? Wh u n e l ib he pe ss is t to po at m i us h W he ft em w so r e t en ut sh wh

to us

w

h ss u o i ter ys

t us m t reea ed alreadhyencw w t momen

have since we

e,

yl

ad

lre

lut so

ab

a are We

em th n e op

created e already v a h e w e sinc

possible? of the im

lu We bsolute, so ab living in the a the We are already in e t ing e r liv n a l dy , o ea m nipre alr re Times ea e n t spee W d.

yl

ad

lre

s of the im r e t t u h s us mysterio e h t n e p e must o

have alrke since we loo f o se u the s i hatible?

W o p ss yesterday -

le? b i ss po

e? ibl s s po m

t the m ehind a

l iv

etern al , o m niprtee, s olu ent speed .

the m ome nt

dy

te, olu

hind behi nd a t

ea

bs

ated ready cre l a e v a h since we

a are We

m

a the

when we of t s ter t u sh s iou r te ys

t momen e h t t a hind hindbe

be

oment

the m ome nt

t

en he mom the m ind at t h e b d ome hin nt

hind behi nd a t be

be

indb ehin d at

k loo of e us

ing

n pe to us m we

eated already cr

etern a l , o m nipre sent spee d.

have since we

e,

lut so

the

be

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be

ab

be

the in

ment the mo hind at e b d in h

ng ivi

ing

is at Wh

yl

ete r n a l , omn ipres ent s p

e? ibl ssok o p o imof l hese fhte u

ster n the my e p o t s u m when we ad

possible? of the im rs e tt u h ss

ing

lre

nipre s e e n t li s y t p ad re e al ar e e e W d . r d n ea alr a l are ,o We m ni p r es e n ts p ee d

e,

w en wh

le? sib s po

ing

h ft so r e tt hu ss u o i ter ys

etern al , o m

t olu

bs

a he

e ha ve a lrea em dy c th re enated c y r d p a e e have alr atuset od since we em

m ei th f so ter t u sh

s iou r e t ys ok m f lo e o h t use use of looopken the s i t at us m le?

Wh e w sib enimpos h w e a are We

ing

etern al, om nipr e s e n t spe ed.

created e already v a h e w since

What is the

em nw e wh

the m hind at hindbe

hind be

he nt

et e rn a l ,o m ni e,p lut re so se ab n the t in sp ng e e d.

i liv dy

oment m e h t t hind a hindbe

i ng

h

t np eo t s u p m o e t when w us

ing

ok and space f lo

eated already cr

ivi

a lre

a are We

em h nt e oep? t s b sincu ssi l o w pe em e ha im w e ve a h t n lrea k es of h doy wutter f lo create h o d use e h is t t a Wh ing

yl

etern al, o m n ipres en t s p eed.

ted eady crea k

ad

the absolute,

m ei h ft o s ter t u sh s iou r te ys

e ibl s s po

lre

em w en wh

a are We

in already living eed.

is at h W

p imo huese t e fh sisot taetr Wuht h ss iou ter s y em th

9. We want to glorify war, the only cure for the world -

- militarism, - patriotism, - the destructive gesture of the anarchists, - the beautiful ideas which kill, - and contempt for woman.

10. We want to -

demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism, and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice.

11. We will sing of the great crowds agitated by -

- work, - pleasure, - and revolt ;

Standing on again our in

n the world's summit we launch once nsolent challenge to the stars!

It is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries. Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries. Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know.

Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color. To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot? What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream? To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on? Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with their own talent and ambition. For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists! Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries!

Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums!

Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns! The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leapIt is in Italy that we are issuing this manifesto of ruinous and incendiary violence, by which we today are founding Futurism, because we want to deliver Italy from its gangrene of professors, archaeologists, tourist guides and antiquaries. Italy has been too long the great second-hand market. We want to get rid of the innumerable museums which cover it with innumerable cemeteries. Museums, cemeteries! Truly identical in their sinister juxtaposition of bodies that do not know each other. Public dormitories where you sleep side by side for ever with beings you hate or do not know. Reciprocal ferocity of the painters and sculptors who murder each other in the same museum with blows of line and color.

To make a visit once a year, as one goes to see the graves of our dead once a year, that we could allow! We can even imagine placing flowers once a year at the feet of the Gioconda! But to take our sadness, our fragile courage and our anxiety to the museum every day, that we cannot admit! Do you want to poison yourselves? Do you want to rot? What can you find in an old picture except the painful contortions of the artist trying to break uncrossable barriers which obstruct the full expression of his dream? To admire an old picture is to pour our sensibility into a funeral urn instead of casting it forward with violent spurts of creation and action. Do you want to waste the best part of your strength in a useless admiration of the past, from which you will emerge exhausted, diminished, trampled on? Indeed daily visits to museums, libraries and academies (those cemeteries of wasted effort, calvaries of crucified dreams, registers of false starts!) is for artists what prolonged supervision by the parents is for intelligent young men, drunk with

their own talent and ambition. For the dying, for invalids and for prisoners it may be all right. It is, perhaps, some sort of balm for their wounds, the admirable past, at a moment when the future is denied them. But we will have none of it, we, the young, strong and living Futurists! Let the good incendiaries with charred fingers come! Here they are! Heap up the fire to the shelves of the libraries!

Divert the canals to flood the cellars of the museums!

Let the glorious canvases swim ashore! Take the picks and hammers! Undermine the foundation of venerable towns! The oldest among us are not yet thirty years old: we have therefore at least ten years to accomplish our task. When we are forty let younger and stronger men than we throw us in the waste paper basket like useless manuscripts! They will come against us from afar, leap ing on the light cadence of their first poems, clutching the air with their predatory fingers and sniffing at the gates of the academies the good scent of our decaying spirits, already promised to the catacombs of the libraries. But we SHALL NOT BE THERE 4HEY WILL FIND US AT LAST ONE WINTER S night in the depths of the country in a sad hangar echoing with the notes of the monotonous rain, crouched near our trembling aeroplanes, warming our hands at the wretched fire which our books of today will make when they flame gaily beneath the glittering flight of their pictures. They will crowd around us, panting with anguish and disappointment, and exasperated by our proud indefatigable courage, will hurl themselves forward to kill us, with all the more hatred as their hearts will be drunk with love and admiration for us. And strong healthy Injustice will shine radiantly from their eyes. For art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice.The oldest among us are not yet thirty, and yet we have already wasted treasures, treasures of strength, love, courage and keen will, hastily, deliriously, without thinking, with all our might, till we are out of breath. Look at us! We are not out of breath, our hearts are not in the least tired. For they are nourished by fire, hatred and speed! Does this surprise you? it is because you do not EVEN REMEMBER BEING ALIVEl 3TANDING ON THE WORLD S SUMmit, we launch once more our challenge to the stars!

The end.

PAC IE