Lizards, Leprechauns and Little
Monks
 There
is a small lizard (photo) guarding our house; at least,
I hope that's what it's doing. I realize that there are
other evolutionary scenarios that call for the lizard to
grow to the size of a komodo dragon and eat us, but I'd
rather not dwell on that.
My wife's and my own current thinking is that the lizard
represents a manifestation of the "monaciello"
("little monk"), a kind of Neapolitan leprechaun, a
usually benevolent figure that protects you and, just
maybe, might show you where treasure is hidden. He is
one of the many such mischievous Pucks, leprechauns,
imps and sprites that show up in various cultures
around the world. Monaciello—as
the name indicates—normally looks like an itsy-bitsy
monk and is said to live in the wine cellar. We have no
wine cellar. I am puzzled by that theological
contradiction, but I have read that "monaciello" can
also assume the shape of a cat or a serpent. A lizard is
a serpent, of sorts, so maybe, just maybe...
So far, he (henceforth "he", since a "little monk", in
whatever incarnation, is, by definition, a male) simply
scurries across the room, stops and stares at us for a
while, does that disgusting darting thing with his
tongue, and then scoots away. My wife claims he is
getting bigger. I, suggest hopefully that that comes
from all the bugs he has been eating. (Indeed, our abode
is remarkably free of insects.) He has also
replaced a previous, smaller lizard we found in the
dearly-departed, shrivelled-up state some months ago.
This is either (1) a good sign, in that there is,
apparently, an entire cadre of good spirits dedicated to
our well-being, or (2) ominous, in that maybe lizard
number 2 killed lizard number 1 and is now just biding
his time (see "other evolutionary scenarios" in par. 1,
above) waiting for the return of the Age of Reptiles.
Indeed, my Neapolitan mother-in-law was convinced that
‘spirits’ (possibly a "monaciello" prankster) played
tricks on her by moving things around the house. Once
they moved her house-keys and before that they nabbed
her sweater. I put quotes around ‘spirits’ because
that’s what she called them. I suggested ‘hobgoblins',
‘demons’, or ‘howling hunks of ectoplasm’. One does not
joke about such things, however.
—“I put them right there, and now they’re gone, mister
young punk rationalist know-nothing unbeliever. How do
you explain that?”
—“Easy, mother-in-law. You must have put them somewhere
else.”
—“Ha! If I had put them somewhere else, then that’s
where they would be, right? But they’re not there,
either! So where are they, if you know so much? Besides,
the things always turn up eventually, which proves they
were gone in the first place.”
Touché.
Now, I know that the supernatural exists or does not
exist quite independently of whether or not I believe in
it. Logical Positivists among you may argue with that
statement, but then you brainoids have never tangled
with lizards, so I suggest you get with the program.
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