A few months back as I strolled down Tompkins Avenue in Bed-Stuy after leaving a friend’s house during my yearly stint in NYC, I stumbled upon an interesting bookshop called The Word Is Change.
Attracted by the titles displayed in the front window, I walked in and started roaming around following no particular strategy other than letting my curiosity lead me through the tall wooden shelves that lined up the space.
Eventually, my attention dropped onto a section that perfectly fit my interests and current learning aspirations; attached to the edge of the bookshelf was a little white tag that spelled CINEMA in black ink.
Tucked away in the deep end corner, on the right-hand side of the store, the wing featured books about filmmaking and other related literature.
Propped up on one of those thin metal stands that are used to highlight the titles of the month/week/year, a chicly bound volume caught my eye.
“Leave The Gun, Take The Cannoli” popped out in a familiar gothic-like gold font. It was a play on the unmistakable font employed on the cover of a classic of modern American literature: The Godfather. Intrigued, I picked it up.
The book, written by Mark Seal, was an in-depth look at the events that led up to the publication of the cult novel and its subsequent success as a movie.
I bought it alongside two other works about documentary making and Italian Operaismo and went on about my day, not giving its content too much thought.
The 420-page hardback sat untouched on the corner of my couch–the place where I put all of my unread books–for a couple of months before I finally got to it a few weeks ago.
Coincidentally, that same week I began scanning through its tactile pages, nand ews broke that the infamous boss of Cosa Nostra Matteo Messina Denaro had finally been arrested after 30 years on the run.
He was the last of a long streak of Godfathers implicated in the murders of the biggest Mafia prosecutors of all time, Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino.
The timing couldn’t be any more ideal as I was in for a history lesson on how impactful the Sicilian Mafia (which, by the way, had a huge influence on the making of The Godfather, the movie) has been on quite literally any industry in the world, Hollywood included.
It’s not like I wasn’t unaware of how incredibly strong their tight-knit operations and family-based structure infiltrated society at large, from Sicily to California and beyond–after all, I am Sicilian and legend goes I may or may not indirectly fit the stereotype too–however, what I did not know, was how deeply intertwined with the entertainment business it had been.
Francis Ford Coppola’s big break would have never come to be if it wasn’t for the Mob, which was equally invested and against the script’s depiction of Italian-Americans at the same time.
To give it a bit of context, Mario Puzo’s best-selling novel is both a story of redemption and drama–a perfect example of a phoenix rising from its ashes.
At the time of publishing in 1969, the Italian-American novelist was a destitute 49-year-old writer with a crippling gambling addiction that kept him and his large family broke for the vast majority of his career.
Incredibly, after a streak of flopping novels that never really earned him either wealth or success, he chose to–in his words–sell out and give commercial narrative a go.
After reading The Valachi Papers and throwing himself into research (by the way of gambling his savings away in Vegas), he put his head down and began writing a gripping story about the obscure crime operation that ruled the neighborhood where he grew up in at the turn of the century, Hell’s Kitchen.
Following an unexpected turn of events, this time a publisher–G.P. Putnan’s Son–recognized his genius and bought the rights to the book for a whopping $410,000, breaking the record for highest fiction sale at the time. Overnight, his life changed.
The book started popping up everywhere. People across the United States couldn’t stop flipping through the theatrics of this sex-crime-action-filled novel so well-written and realistic that people began thinking Puzo himself was a Wise guy.
Even the real godfathers were reading it and found ways to incorporate the fiction into their everyday life, assimilating and appropriating bits like Al Pacino’s notorious line “I make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
It is alleged that the gang was so pleased with the plot that somehow, someway Puzo’s debts with his favorite casino started getting unexpectedly handled by certain high-profile “fans”.
The Godfather was an instant success. So successful, matter of fact, that Paramount Pictures soon came to knock on the writer’s door to snatch up the rights to screen adaptation.
Puzo, who was once again broke due to his unshakable love for roulette, accepted the meager $12,500 offered to him and started working on the script right away.
Settled in his Los Angeles office, only a 4h drive away from his favorite city ever–Las Vegas–Mario Puzo was tasked with crafting a screenplay that would save the studio’s declining reputation.
What nobody knew, though, was the fact that before reaping the fruits of success, they would have to overcome an intense set of hurdles and a direct face-off with the subject of the picture itself, the Mafia.
From the choice of director down to the casting and overall production, the making of one of the best-grossing movies of all times stumbled upon one crisis after another. Yet, due to the resilience and confidence of everybody involved, when The Godfather premiered, it reeled unprecedented figures.
Reading about this tale of collective stubbornness and passion, made me think about how important it is to be able to recognize when to seize a moment.
By coincidence, this same notion came up during a workshop on brand values I participated in for a company I am currently working on a project with.
During the session, we were prompted to think about a word or sentence that would encompass both hard work and fun under one concept.
While it was really complicated to come up with a unanimous solution, the one word that kept coming back to my mind was passion.
According to Merriam-Webster's dictionary, the term passion has a couple of different meanings–including the obsolete interpretation of suffering and nudging to Christ’s passion–but they all synthesize under one main umbrella of emotion.
Passion, in layman's terms, is that deep desire that drives people to do the unthinkable.
In its romantic iteration, it’s the feeling that pushes humans to pursue their sentimental interests and do things to wow and charm them with the goal to be reciprocated.
When it comes to personal realization, passion is the fuel that gets you going–the gasoline that allows the fire of grit to blow up and take over everything it comes across.
Mario Puzo was deeply passionate about his craft (and gambling, to be fair). He so intensely believed in the art of writing that he would do anything to continue doing what he loved most.
He took up odd jobs, he quit them when they became unbearable.
He sought freelance opportunities, he fought hard to publish pieces that others considered rubbish. And it was that very emotion that supported him through the years of despair and failure. It was passion that allowed him to keep going when all hope was lost, and at last, it was his very passion that made him one of the most revered writers in the history of modern literature.
The same went for Francis Ford Coppola. His love for filmmaking was so ardent that he wouldn’t allow anybody to come in between him and his vision.
Some may identify this visceral drive with insanity, but from my perspective, it is a deciding factor for success–whatever that may mean to you.
Passion is what turns a person into a go-getter. If you are not passionate about what you do, regardless of what it is, you will be 100% more prone to giving up when faced with a challenge. And I am not only talking about work.
Many would argue that going after your passion is a luxury afforded only by those who come from a privileged background, but I don’t think that is necessarily true.
It is indeed a fact that life is becoming increasingly more expensive and people need to do what they have to in order to keep food on the table, but I also think that compared to the era when The Godfather was released, we have way easier access to opportunities.
It’s easier to finance our hobbies, it’s easier to network with like-minded individuals and it's easier to get our work in front of the eyes of an international audience from the comfort of our home.
The reality is that we are also much more spoiled and have higher standards of living, which is of course positive but also counterproductive in a way.
Because our existence is bloated with so many once-in-a-lifetime occasions, it is much harder to keep our eyes on the prize. Simultaneously, the world is becoming a bleaker place due to a plethora of impending calamities that make it hard for anybody to keep driving in the dark guided by the hope that the end of the tunnel is around the corner. Yet, I am adamant about continuously looking for that one spark that has the ability to turn even the most annoying of tasks into an enjoyable experience.
I’d like to paint a picture of what this itch feels like.
Imagine going on a hike. It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is shining and the birds are chirping. Plants are starting to blossom and there is an inebriating smell of flowers in the air. You are fairly new in your journey into the great outdoors but you are already madly in love.
You are not yet entirely fit or physically equipped to climb a steep peak but you decided it’s time to test your limits.
You get to the bottom of a beautiful mountain trail and begin walking. You immerse yourself in the luxuriant vegetation, the sound of nature is relaxing and you nod to fellow hikers as you pass them.
Slowly, the footpath starts to get increasingly challenging, your heart rate speeds up with each step you take but the view is so overwhelmingly beautiful that it trumps the tightness in your calves. The path gets curvier, the peak still seems unattainable. Yet, with each turn of the corner, a new wonder is there to surprise you: a waterfall to your right, and gorgeous stems to your left.
You even find and pick wild berries so delicious you pray to find more. To get to the next level, you need to climb through a rocky passage.
Fatigue starts getting to you, so you take a pause and consider turning back. Yet, you choose not to. You sit, breathe and allow yourself to bask in the grace of your surroundings.
After a regenerating break, you exhale hard, stand up and get going.
A particularly harsh slope stands in the way between you and the end of the trail, once again you are faced with the idea of going home but you’re too eager to finish what you started.
After all, the top of the hill is just around the corner, waiting for you in all of its majestic flares.
You feel the fatigue slowly creeping up on you some more. You take another breather.
You know that a breathtaking view is awaiting, just a few steps away so you find the strength to keep going. Breathe in, breathe out, you repeat to yourself. Pearls of sweat slide down your temples.
Finally, you reach the peak. You look down and the panorama is so incredibly amazing, the tiredness disappears. You made it!
The journey was strenuous but your love for the discipline was so sturdy that it led you to the finish line and all pain went away. The satisfaction you feel when on top of the mountain is incomparable. It’s a feeling of pride mixed with joy and power.
That is what passion is like to me. It’s the factor that keeps you going even when shit hits the fan. It’s the itch that makes you try anything and everything possible in order to achieve your goals.
It’s not hustling, it’s not grinding. It doesn’t burn you out, it gives you purpose. It keeps you on track, it pushes you forward when going against a strong wind. It’s the ingredient that makes you believe in what you do even when others don’t. It’s what makes you get up after you have fallen for the nth time.
If love is the noblest of emotions, I believe passion is its right-hand man. There’s no long-lasting romance without passion, just like there’s no fun without hard work.
It may sound like a hedonistic–silly even–charade, but one thing I learned from the years I spent experimenting with my career is that the projects I was passionate about are the ones that most stuck with people.
Anything I did with passion rubbed off on the people around me and it got them going. It inspired them to do better–to find their own true calling.
And that, for me, is honestly all one needs in life.
💙!!! LOVED reading and really resonate with your description of passion- thank you for sharing!
Sometimes it honestly feels like an uphill battle pursuing what you love, I have to remind myself to embrace the journey, obstacles and all x