In The garden of the Finzi-continis by Giorgio Bassani, the narrator is a young Jew living in fascist Italy before the Second World War. As more racial laws are implemented in Italy, he develops a deeper relationship with the Finzi-Contini, an aristocratic Jewish family. He is particularly in love with Micol, although his feelings are unrequited, and he eventually overcomes his obsession with her. Bassani shows that people, through the motifs of closed environments, should not isolate themselves from the present or from others, but rather, as the motif of light shows, should focus on the present in order to cope with the oppression, leading readers to question. whether the narrator was truthful or disillusioned in the story of his youth. The motif of the carriage, a closed environment, shows how when the narrator, not wanting to address present conflicts, isolates himself from others and ends up feeling even more insecure. The first time he encounters the Finzi-Contini carriage, he describes it as "never moving, not even to seek shade" (21) and how his "[nose] pressed against the crystal" (21) . He is attracted to this car because of its firm, crystalline nature; he appreciates the unchanging and immobile quality of the cart which allows it to remain perfect. Looking at the car from the outside makes him want to join the crew even more and he wants to be part of this closed environment, symbolizing his desire to enter the closed and exclusive group of Finzi-Contini. A few years later, the narrator can finally sit inside the carriage, although it is no longer used. As he sits down, the door closes and “the slap of the rain on the roof of the shed is no longer audible” (77). The rain is a metaphor for the problems the narrator faces when they are imposed on him, such as the racial laws that are increasingly prominent in Italy. As the narrator sits in the car, he is able to not hear the rain, which means having to deal with these conflicts. The carriage represents the perfection of his childhood, a symbol of an unchanging and conflict-free past. However, Micol explains to the narrator how, from time to time, the servant Perotti washes the car, which is why it is "better seen in the dark [and] still manages to deceive people quite well" (78). The beauty of the carriage does not last in the light, which suggests that its qualities are ephemeral. The fool in this case is the narrator who marvels at the illusion, referring to the fact that the past has already passed and cannot be resurrected even if one tried. Although he tries to silence his worries by locking himself in the car, the narrator describes how he feels like "a stuffy little room" (77). The stifling environment where it is difficult to breathe suggests that this elevator is not conducive to life; we cannot continue to live in the past. The narrator's isolationist viewpoint, as apparent through the car incident, also extends to his interactions with Perotti in the elevator, revealing how idealizing the past is futile. When the narrator decides to go visit Micol in his room, Perotti suggests that he take the elevator instead of taking the stairs. For Perotti who controls the elevator, this brings him the satisfaction of "[releasing] his torn love for the family he had served ever since." a boy, his angry loyalty, like that of an old domestic animal” (141). Perotti is portrayed as an angry pet, as if serving the Finzi-Contini had devalued his human existence. He's torn because on the one hand he's served them since he was a child andfeels an obligation, even love, towards the family, but on the other hand, he does not want to continue to feel inferior. His ambivalence about how to feel towards his masters is reflected in his control of the elevator. He may not be able to control the future, but here in the elevator he is able to release his anger and passion. Even though the future is unpredictable, Perotti at least finds certainty and control in the closed and secret elevator. But this satisfaction is only temporary, since the elevator “stopped abruptly, forcing him to stop almost immediately, with obvious displeasure” (141). The narrator is able to notice how Perotti oscillates between anger, the brief satisfaction of control, and then dissatisfaction after the action. Once Perotti exits the elevator, he must face reality again. Just like the passage of time, an elevator ride cannot last forever; things in life quickly become a thing of the past. In many ways, the narrator describes the elevator similarly to a car, with "glittering crystal panels" (140) and a "choking smell of mold" (140). These descriptions reinforce the elevator as a cold and isolated environment, as well as a figure from the past, as it is so old that it is beginning to smell like mold. He finds the past stifling, revealing the irony that while he tries to escape the oppression of current racial laws, he is now oppressed by the past. The narrator had also previously described the car as suffocating, showing the repetition of his suffering in trying to bring the past back to life. It becomes a vicious circle, because the more he tries to escape the present troubles, the more he feels suffocated by his past. Instead of dwelling on the past, people should focus on the present in order to free themselves from oppression, as shown in the film. the pattern of light. When the narrator goes to visit Micol's room, she turns on the light in her room, muttering that "she had no excuse for keeping [the narrator] in such darkness" (142). This action of turning on the light represents the igniting of reality, literally illuminating the narrator's point of view. His worldview is so focused on the past that Micol has to turn on the light, metaphorically shifting his vision to the present, for him to realize how naive he has been. This is similar to the previous construction of the chariot which was only beautiful when in dim light, and how when exposed to full light all of its flaws appear. During another of their conversations, Micol describes to the narrator how "the rain would end... pierced by faint rays of sunlight [and] would transform into something precious, delicately opalescent, with reflections, in their changing hues" (84 ). Here, Micol shows how rain and sunlight are not necessarily mutually exclusive, as they transform into something valuable. The narrator had previously tried to avoid rain and conflict by thinking back to his best moments, without realizing that positive and negative aspects of life could coexist. Certainly, racial laws would still exist, but the solution did not lie solely in flight or isolation. Life, in its changing colors – and the positivity that could be found despite conflict – would go on. Bassani also uses light to highlight the intimacy of the community. When the narrator visits the Italian synagogue as a child, he and others “find themselves bathed in a kind of golden mist” (22). This warm, golden light contrasts with the stifling, glassy feel of the car and elevator ahead. The heat of the sun