The sweet martyrdom of Sant’Agata. Trip to Catania

Only Covid-19, in Sicily, could stop one of the most important religious festivals in the world, but only for a short while. There are over a million faithful and visitors who, during the days of 3, 4 and 5 of Februarycross the streets of the city of Catania retracing the stages and symbolic places of the life of Sant’Agata, martyred in 251 AD by the Roman proconsul Quinziano, for having denied her love out of devotion. Since then she is beloved local patroness.

On February 3, between via Etnea decorated with luminous arches, the typical gastronomy of the festival – banquets of nougat, green Sant’Agata olives made with almond paste and salted citrons – the celebrations opened. Fourteen candlesticks of carved wood representing arts and crafts have risen to the sky, on the powerful shoulders of the bearers, ready to parade them through the city.

In order, the first and smallest is the cerium of Monsignor Ventimiglia, from 1776according to First Cereo Rinoti of the suburb of San Giuseppe La Rena. Behind them, the Gothic ‘riggina’ of the florists“unique because of its Venetian Gothic style”, Giovanni Compagnino tells us, former bearer of the candlemas and president of the florists.

At a brisk pace they will march not only on February 3rd but also the following days, the fishmongers with the ‘Birsagghiera’, the fastest candlemas of all. It is commanded by a chief ‘chiumma’ (crew) and from when he gets up to when he settles down, the pace of the eight men must be fast. “Ours is difficult both in terms of weight and movement, you need to have the qualities to move it” concludes the president, proud of his boys Giampiero Naples. They also advance the greengrocers which give sinuous and feminine movement to their nicknamed Gothic candlelight the ‘Miss’. Following the butchers then, behind them, the grocers, the cheese sellers with liberty style candles. Suddenly a bearer of the delicatessen turns his head and his eye falls on the imposing and enormous feet at the base, of the candelora of the pasta makers. “The candle inside is the only one that has remained original, the others have it in plastic, this is a huge but simple candlestick with no signs of Agatha’s martyrdom: what distinguishes it from all others”, the president of the corporation tells us Alexander Buda.

From afar you can hear: “Our cereus is the tallest and is the only one to be carried by ten men, three in front, three behind and four on the side”. Cajetan Archdeaconis both president and one of the youngest bearers of the tavern keepers, the winemakers. “Being a man of strength is very difficult, to bear all that weight on one’s shoulders one must be very devoted otherwise it becomes unbearable”.

The winemakers are breathing down their necks at the advance of the huge and looming neoclassical candlemas of the bakers presided over by Michele Arcidiacono. “It is the heaviest, over a ton, and the only one to have twelve bearers. She is nicknamed ‘a mamma’ of all candelore due to her size and historicity, unlike the pastari, she represented all the scenes of the saint’s martyrdom”. Conclude the candle of the village of Sant’Agata, that of the master craftsmen, devotees and the circle of Sant’Agata. Shape, gait and sway are the identities devotees give to each candlemas and everyone wants to enhance its qualities. The fashion show ends, the party approaches and the suggestion increases.

On the fourth morning with the rosy-fingered dawn, the first embrace of the people to its patron saint with the “Mass of Dawn”, immediately after, the simulacrum comes out of the cathedral of Sant’Agata and the devotees dressed in traditional dress: white cloth alb (sack) tightened at the waist by a cord to recall the hair shirt, gloves, hat (the scuzzetta) black often painted also in the paintings of Antonello da Messina and fluttering handkerchief, are waiting for the “Santuzza”. The sumptuously jeweled bust and the casket that holds Agatha’s relics are placed on the precious silver fercolo lined with red velvet. From Piazza Duomo begins the procession that leads to the most popular neighborhoods touching the places of martyrdom. They thunder at all stages i fireworks, which wakes up a sky that is still a little asleep with barrels. The smoke paints the now blue horizon.

From the sea-facing terrace of the incredible Palazzo Biscari, Prince Ruggero Moncada wait for Agata to pass e he says: “The Saint is not a normal thing, the relationship that the devotee has with her is a carnal relationship. When they meet the devotee exclaims ‘Bedda, avi n’annu ca un ti viru‘ (I haven’t seen you for a year) as if it were a boyfriend talking to his beloved”. Devotion is heard until the death of the voice: “They scream with all the strength they have in their bodies, the companions hold on tightly from behind to block the diaphragm, otherwise in a free voice, their eyes would pop out of their sockets”, says the prince Moncada referring to the devotees, as he takes the crystal jug resting on the banquet prepared for his guests and pours himself some almond milk, then his gaze returns fixed on Agata.

Five is the day of the liturgical feast of the patron saint. In the afternoon Catania will be covered by a mystical veil, it will be the setting for the procession of Sant’Agata towards Etna, it will be solemn, it will be crying. Via Etnea is set on fire with the votive offerings of wax, becoming the scene of inhuman physical efforts that represent the hopes of a city where whoever carries the candle entrusts everything to the Saint. This it happens under the mythological eye of Etna, of the snowy “Mountain”. For the people of Catania the volcano is female and the divinities, even pagan ones, exist and resist.

Early on the 6th in the morning, the Saint will also pass via di Sangiuliano, the most dangerous stretch because it is very steep, but a great test of courage for the devotees, someone even broke his neck while pulling the fercolo.

It’s all over, the poured wax has become the asphalt of the city, the Saint has returned to church but sweet traditions remain and flourish throughout the year like the “minnuzze” of Sant’Agata, small white icing with candied cherry nipples that recall the martyrdom, when Quinzano had her breast torn out. Sweet flavors of sin, without sin.