Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

Modesta: ‘What did you say his name was, Nina?’

Marco: ‘Marco Clayton, signora . Clearly, Nina, your Modesta doesn’t want to know me.’

Nina: ‘Go on, Mody, I’ve introduced him to you a hundred times! What, are you getting forgetful on me now? Don’t you remember that evening when you came to my house with Carlo, and then to the theatre? You have to forgive her, Marco. When Mody is with Carluzzu, she doesn’t notice anyone else.’

Of course, that evening … Pietro was still alive and Olimpia was still here with us. Nina is right; he was also at the wake and at the funeral service. Now I remember that face, always there beside Nina …

I’m sleepy and Prando is calling to me with his eyes. I should follow him. But what about that gentleman? ‘ Remember, Mody, that a princess, even if she isn’t one, must never offend anyone, not even the humblest of men .’

Marco: ‘Well, Nina, how about a nice cup of tea? I have the feeling your Modesta is very tired. We should go.’

He’s offended. He smiles, but you can tell he’s hurt. I have to say something.

Modesta: ‘Forgive me, but I really am tired…’ Now why do I hear my voice saying, ‘You’re a musician, aren’t you? Can you swim?’

Nina: ‘What’s got into you, Modesta? You crack me up! Didn’t I tell you, Marco? She seems oh-so-serious and then…’

Modesta: ‘Let’s go for a swim, then!’

Nina: ‘But the sea is far away, Mody.’

Modesta: ‘It seemed far by carriage. But now, by car, it’s less than an hour,…’

Nina: ‘What do you say, Marco? Should we make her happy? Jump in the car and take her to the sea? Look at that impudent face! She’s always like that, my Mody. Even in jail she managed to come up with some wacky idea, and you could kiss peace goodbye!’

Marco: ‘Really?’

The two of them laugh, and it’s clear that they’re only staying with Modesta to be polite. You can tell by the way they look at one another that they’re just waiting to be alone so they can laugh and joke around. I’ve become too serious! By trying to imitate Nonna Gaia and make people respect me, I’ve become possessed by her, and now I’m old and harsh. Or is it because I don’t fall in love anymore? After me, Nina had a grand affair — à la Grand Hotel , 121as she described it — and then another sublime or springtime love … ‘ What are you living for, if you don’t fall in love in springtime? ’ But it must not have been so sublime if after three months, at the height of August, she’s letting that musician look at her that way.

Nina: ‘So what should we do now, Marco? This one has fallen asleep.’

Modesta: ‘I’m not sleeping. I just closed my eyes because I don’t feel like talking.’

Marco: ‘It’s not a problem, Nina, we’ll take her upstairs. I’ll do it … Look, she’s taken off her shoes and curled up as if she were already in bed. How lifeless she is! Are you sure it’s nothing serious?’

Nina: ‘No, no, this always happens! She can go for days and days without sleeping, even back then in prison, then all of a sudden she can sleep for two days and two nights.’

Marco: ‘How strange!’

Nina: ‘Carluzzu told me it’s a talent great leaders have. I don’t know if he was joking — Carluzzu is always kidding around. Actually, he told me that when Caesar — Julius Caesar, I mean — didn’t know what to do, he would fall asleep.’

Marco: ‘Don’t make me laugh, Nina. I’m afraid I’ll drop her or wake her up.’

Nina: ‘Not a chance! When she’s like this not even an earthquake could wake her.’

I can’t be sleeping if I can hear their words. And I could make him have an apoplectic attack, as Nina says, if I were to start screaming or laughing. But I don’t feel like talking, especially now that Carluzzu has joined the procession and is having a good time teasing Nina about how strong her musician friend is.

Carlo: ‘Hey, Nina, for once you have a strapping guy. How come? Have you changed your views on virility? I’ve always seen you with fairies and nymphets.’

When Carluzzu jokes like that he sounds a little like ’Ntoni. Why does that surprise you, Modesta? One way or another, they’re both Stella’s sons, except that Carluzzu — don’t tell ’Ntoni, he’d be offended, poor thing! — is much, much more intelligent than ’Ntoni.

‘Good morning, Zia.’

‘Oh Bambù, have they gone?’

‘Of course, it’s been two days!’

‘Go on, stop kidding. I heard it all perfectly. Carluzzu was teasing Nina…’

‘Sure, two days ago!’

‘I see: I was asleep and dreamt I wasn’t sleeping. In fact, I’m ravenous! This sleep hasn’t happened to me in a long time. I must have wanted to escape from something … but what?’

‘Maybe, as Nina says, you wanted to get away from our carrying on. She gave us quite a talking-to, good-naturedly I’d say, your Nina! And she’s right, because I myself have been very irritating lately. Even for the party, you had to do everything yourself.’

‘It was a lovely party, wasn’t it?’

‘Just the way Prando wanted it! The whole island is talking about it, and will do so for quite some time.’

‘Oh, Bambù, it’s déjà vu ! I’ve already experienced this moment: me eating, you looking at me, the big window, the mirror with the vine leaves and gilded fruit. I woke up in this room that other time too, when I had typhus after being in prison. I wanted to ask you, and then I forgot…’

‘What?’

‘Maybe you don’t remember…’

‘Of course I remember! How could I forget the fall of Fascism and you about to die?’

‘That mirror, Bambolina — who put it there?’

‘I did.’

‘This was my room when I knew your mother. Did you know that?’

‘Really?’

‘What made you choose that particular mirror to hang there?’

‘I don’t know. It was in the attic.’

‘Now I know why I fell asleep. I wanted to stay here, now that the dead are gone and the house is lived in. It’s nice here. The girls must be awake, Bambù. Hear them laughing downstairs? How many are there?’

‘Beatrice, Gaia, and two or three of their friends who slept over … They can’t stop talking about the party. In their own way, they’re continuing it.’

‘Yes, I wanted to stay here!’

‘Oh, I wish! Stay here, Zia, stay!

‘I’d like to stay here with you, Bambù, but life goes on. Someone is knocking at the door. Let’s see who it is…’

Carlo: ‘Oh, Nonna, you had us worried. The whole island is worried! Everything is at a standstill in the bookshop! Your secretary — how pretty she is, wow! I almost don’t want to leave, so I can flirt with her — your secretary says she’s terrified without you … But you, how lovely you are, oh! You must stay like that for ever.’

Modesta: ‘A little exaggerated, don’t you think, Bambù?’

Carlo: ‘Well, at least until I’ve captured your image by having a daughter identical to you, or until I’ve written a great novel that depicts you to a tee.’

Bambù: ‘I’ll see to the latter!’

Carlo: ‘Oh, no, Bambù!’

Bambù: ‘Oh, yes I will!’

Carlo: ‘Oh, all right. What if we wrote it together?’

Modesta: ‘Together or not, don’t write it right away, please, because I plan to live until I’m a hundred. You don’t write about the living.’

Bambù: ‘What beautiful roses, Carluzzu! Why did you toss them on the table? I’ll put them in a vase. They’re suffering.’

Carlo: ‘Hey, Bambù, give me a hug before you take care of the flowers. This is the first time we’ll be far apart for so long.’