Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

‘You’re so beautiful, Mama! I’ll bet you don’t feel like eating ’Ntoni and Jacopo’s attempts either.’

‘’Ntoni doesn’t do too badly in the kitchen.’

‘That may be, but tell the truth, you don’t feel like it either, right?’

‘Not in the least.’

‘So listen: if you give me some cash — I’m broke, that thing isn’t a motorcycle, it’s a black hole that eats all your money — if you give me some cash, I’ll take you to dinner in a new restaurant at La Plaia. I like it when we walk in and everyone turns around to look at us. If you give me the money, I’ll make a big impression and you’ll eat well.’

‘Well, I might just do that. I’m starving!’

‘Wonderful! Let’s go … How light you are, Mama. How much do you weigh?’

‘How should I know!’

‘A feather!’

‘It’s you, you’re so strong! Go on, put me down. You’re making me dizzy.’

‘I have a feather for a mother, I swear to God!’

‘It must be hunger. Let’s go. Put me down, Prando! You’re hungry too, aren’t you? Go and tell Stella, then off we go to La Plaia, as this giant commands!’

‘What if we don’t tell anyone and just run off?’

‘That would be fun, but we can’t. You know that.’

‘Oh, all right, I’ll go tell Stella, but you wait for me in the car without letting anyone see you. That way we can at least pretend we’re running off…’

Power of the imagination. I actually felt like I was fleeing in the night beside that silent young man who was focused solely on his driving — just as Carmine paid attention only to Orlando’s muscles — careful to shift gears smoothly so as not to alarm his beast or interfere with its running. ‘ An engine is a living organism, strong and delicate. Jacopo, find someone else to teach you how to drive. You lack the touch for living things. It’s excruciating every time you shift gears, Judas Priest! ’

The familiar silence conveys a placid, protective power. Though raised near the sea, that young man had retained the solemn silence of the rural interior. He won’t say another word until he reaches the end of his journey.

‘Here we are, Mama. Just think, it took us exactly twenty minutes! What a fine lady you are in that dress. I wish you would wear it always.’

‘Always gets boring, Prando.’

‘I like the familiar better than the new.’

‘And yet this place is new.’

‘Well, since I know how much the lady likes new things, I made an effort. Do you like it?’

‘It’s magnificent! What a long promenade … it looks like a ship!’

‘They tried to place the Rotunda as far out to sea as possible. We’ll dine on the Rotunda, all right? You won’t feel cold out on the terrace? If you’re cold, tell me, and I’ll give you my jacket.’

I’m not cold, but the desire to feel his arms around my shoulders makes me say, ‘It is a little windy out here.’

‘I knew it. Women are always like that. In order to look beautiful, they don’t cover up enough and then … but I like it. What’s wrong, Mama? You look sad.’

Right beside us, a cascade of wavy black hair caresses a young man’s face. For the moment Prando doesn’t look at her, but soon enough his jacket will cover those slender shoulders, barely skimmed by silk as dark and soft as this night. I’m jealous. I look up and stare into his eyes: a new jealousy, a mother’s jealousy that makes me hate his youth.

‘What is it, Mama? Why aren’t you eating?’

‘Of course I’m eating, Prando. It’s just that I’m jealous.’

‘You, jealous? What are you saying? Jealous of whom?’

‘Of all the girls whose shoulders you’ll cover with your jacket. And I want to tell you what I discovered tonight. To warn you against me, man to man or woman to man, if you prefer.’

‘What did you discover?’

‘That what we call a mother’s jealousy exists, and it’s best to recognize it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing … I’m warning you that I will likely always be jealous of any woman you may fall in love with.’

‘What are you thinking? I have no intention…’

‘Oh, no, Prando, don’t try to hedge! We decided many years ago that we would be different from all those families who pretend to love each other while instead, all they do is oppress one another.’

‘Yes, of course! And as you know, I’ve tried to understand you. I even agreed to respect Bambolina … What’s come over you? Don’t tell me I did something wrong and you want to slap me once or twice like you did that time?’

‘No! That time I slapped you because you demanded that Bambolina wait on you like a servant, and you didn’t want her speaking with your friends. Why did you act like that, Prando? You’re grown now. Why?’

‘Oh, fine! First, because all my friends acted that way, and it seemed right. And then, because I was jealous.’

‘Well, I’ll give myself a couple of slaps now that I see that, even in me, the tendency to act like all the other mothers we know is so strong that … It must be remedied,and you’ve got to help me.’

‘But to tell you the truth, I like the fact that you’re jealous.’

‘But I don’t! And you have to help me.’

‘Oh, great. How?’

‘You’re laughing, are you, Prando?’

‘Well sure. I didn’t expect to hear something like that from you.’

‘I didn’t expect it either.’

‘So what do we do, Mama?’

‘Nothing! Your laughter made my appetite return … Oh, the spaghetti got cold!’

‘Mine too. Should we have them make it again?’

‘Of course! Are you kidding?’

‘You’re so adorable!’

‘Yes, but full of flaws, Prando. Me too, like all mothers. I want you to be aware of my defects, so you can guard against me in the future.’

‘You devil! You know that just talking like that makes my esteem for you grow, so that other women seem silly to me, including Bambù.’

‘I have no remedy for that. It’s a price one must pay. I, too, having known a man like Carlo, found it hard to replace him. But that’s your problem! I warned you, and forewarned is forearmed. Oh, the spaghetti. Finally!’

* * *

‘I’m not cold anymore. It must have been hunger. Take back your jacket, Prando.’

‘Are you jealous with Jacopo?’

‘No! Even with you, when you were little, I didn’t mind if Stella held you, or your aunt Beatrice. Do you remember Beatrice?’

‘Yes, plus there are the photographs. But she was prettier than in the photos, wasn’t she? I remember her fine blond hair…’

‘You were always pulling her hair … But I don’t think I’ll ever be jealous with Jacopo, even when he’s older.’

‘And how do you explain that?’

‘Who can understand these things! The tide has risen; do you hear it? It’s slamming against the pilings.’

‘Think how nice it would be, Mama, if the Rotunda were magically to break loose from the sand and the sea carried us off.’

‘So many bathing establishments, Prando! When you were a child there were only five or six of them.’

‘Really? Oh, what’s happening!’

A hundred voices clamour in the darkness that has suddenly fallen on the white tablecloth.

‘A power failure, signora . It’s not our fault! Look, the lights are out all along the coast. I’ll see to it right away. We’ll bring candles.’

In a flash, a hundred tenuous flames on the tables turn the earlier joy into an agony of waiting.

‘It’s never happened before, captain, I apologize. The bill, of course, right away!’

‘ Danke schön .’

‘A German officer, Mama. I hadn’t noticed him.’

‘I hadn’t either.’