The French literary salon of the 18th century constituted an egalitarian social attention environment within a society marked by profound social and political inequalities. Assuming the Education sufficient to hold a literary conversation, these differences remained at Fail as the evening went on, thanks to the savoir-faire of the hostess, who presided over the conversation. "In the purely social conversation - Simmel wrote at the beginning of the 20th century - the object of the conversation is no longer more than the indispensable support of the attractions that the lively exchange of the conversation displays by itself (...) as soon as the discussion deals with something substantive, it ceases to be sociable"[1].

Naturally, this class of pure sociability, abstracted from the interests and contents that are a source of conflict in the field of life internship, represents a fiction. However, this fiction nourished the enlightened ideal of cultured coexistence, which we miss so much today: in the "democracy" of the salon we saw a symbolic representation of the ethical values that should be realized in public life.  

Undoubtedly, real life in the eighteenth century was far removed from the artificially recreated equality of the literary salon. The enormous distance between the sophisticated luxury of the court and the masses hungry for bread and culture, which acted as a catalyst for the French Revolution, is still echoed today in the self-referential sophistication of an intellectual and artistic elite that has turned culture into a game of mirrors, from which most of the population is excluded.

The controversy unleashed around the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games in Paris is an illustrative case in point. The representation of Le Festin des Dieux (Jan Harmensz van Bijlert, 1635), preserved in the Magnin Museum in Avignon, in which the gods of Olympus, presided over by Apollo and accompanied by Bacchus, celebrate the wedding of Thetis and Peleus, bears enough "resemblance" to Leonardo's Last Supper to trigger the reaction of a cultured public, familiar above all with the latter painting, which, understandably, felt hurt in its religious convictions.

It seems unlikely that the authors of the choreography did not anticipate this reaction. It is possible, however, that, possessed by the often ironic and transgressive logic of many artistic manifestations inherited from the French avant-garde, they rashly overlooked the implications of their behavior. For in the public space it is not only a matter of presenting oneself as smarter and more sophisticated than one's neighbor, but also of respecting him. All the more so if, as stated by the organization of the Games, the staging of that painting was intended to convey a socially inclusive message, in which, beyond all differences, the common humanity was underlined. If that was the intended message, I am afraid that the chosen means was not the most appropriate, since the supposed inclusive spirit is belied from the moment in which it deliberately avoids what, in all probability, offends a large audience, and, instead of promoting a genuine dialogue among all, it pronounces the separation.

The possibility of a social dialogue rests on shared cultural mediations and references, which we can use to strengthen social ties. It would be desirable for all citizens to participate and be equally fluent in the language of art or literature, but this is an unrealistic wish. No matter how much we do in educational institutions in this sense, there will always be a privileged group with access to cultural resources that others, even for lack of time, are denied. Society, however, is built by all of us. Cultural sybaritism that does not respect the feelings of others is as harmful to social life as the rigidity of those who, guided only by their principles, do not pay enough attention to cultural mediations. For very different reasons, both end up making culture a battlefield, when by its very nature, it should be the terrain of understanding.