Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

‘Don’t say that name!’

‘Well, I could have loved him if I hadn’t been thinking of you.’

‘No kidding! Too bad he wasn’t able to measure up to me.’

‘Damn you! Just what I wanted to hear you say. So what if after you, I don’t find someone who measures up to you?’

‘Your loss, if you can’t find him!’

‘And all the better for you, since you’d like to hold on to me for ever?’

‘Naturally! Since the beginning of time, it’s always been that way if you possess something precious.’

‘If you could, you’d take me with you to the grave, wouldn’t you?’

‘No, not that! I like you alive. A lifeless body is repulsive, even for the dead. And since it’s a night for words, rather than embraces, promise me one thing. If one of these days you don’t see me come when night falls…’

‘You said you would always come back. Don’t lie.’

‘All right. If after hundreds and hundreds of nights you don’t see me, promise me you won’t come looking for me.’

‘Why? Are you planning to go away, like back then?’

‘No, if I live, I’ll come to see you for a hundred years. But if you don’t see me, it means my heart has stopped, just as “they” predicted. Promise me you won’t look for me. I don’t want you to see me dead.’

‘Why?’

‘I want to remain alive for you, in your eyes! Well? Carmine has never asked you for anything; you could grant him this much at least. Answer me, Modesta. This silence of yours is like a thorn in my heart, and I can’t kiss you with this thorn. Promise Carmine.’

‘A promise is a promise, Carmine, and leaves a fatal stain on anyone who doesn’t keep it.’

‘Promise me, Modesta, if you love me.’

‘I promise, Carmine, and I hope to remain unstained.’

As if that promise were all he’d been waiting for in order to die, I never saw him again. This was what Carmine had wanted, in order to chain my imagination to his living body. In fact, from dusk to dawn I go stumbling around the room, the stairs, the garden, repeating to myself: he’s dead. But at every shadow, at the slightest sound, I see him, alive, in front of me, and hear his voice in my ear: ‘ If only I could have seen her dead at least! I would have resigned myself and accepted it! ’

Dawn is already lighting up the walls, confirming his death, but I talk to him as he sits in front of me, smoking calmly. ‘ An unkept promise is an unforgivable sin for us islanders, isn’t it, Carmine? ’ ‘ Oh, yes, Modesta. You swore, and you must keep your promise. ’

* * *

Lying in Gaia’s big bed in Carmelo, Carmine smiles with lowered eyelids. You were hoping to hide your humiliation, but I found you, Carmine. Those who die have no say, only those who live do. And I’m alive, looking at you, you beautiful marmoreal old man, and I won’t put up with rules, promises, disapproval …

Though my legs feel heavy, as soon as the skinny old woman who showed me into the room disappears behind the door, I move toward the imposing bed to get a better look at him dead. Repulsive: the clammy waxen brow no longer has his colour. To help my youthful flesh forget, to resign myself and accept it, I press my lips to his forehead and on his mouth. A chill, queasy sweat trickles down my back. But I wait for my nature to impress upon its senses that Carmine is dead and can never come back.

‘Your presence brings great honour to this house, Princess. I apologize for leaving you here, alone … Nunziata forgot to tell me. Nunziata is an old woman, and dazed by her master’s death.’

Two tall men stare at me from the shadows. ‘ All of us Tudia have been big-boned up till this day. ’ That slow voice, cultured despite the affectation of the dialect, is not Carmine’s voice. But raising my eyes, I meet a blue gaze vibrant with an irony I thought only the old man could possess. To hide my astonishment, I turn to the other man, who is slightly taller than the first, but he is no longer looking at me. Leaning over, his dark head bent, he now seems frightened, staring at the motionless body on the bed.

‘I apologize for my brother, Princess, he has suffered greatly from this tragedy.’

Again the voice and the ironic blue gaze cut through the dimness, compelling me to look at him directly. ‘ No one can know his own flesh and blood, Mody .’

For a moment, in the severity of those eyes that make no move to look away from mine, I can see the look that Eriprando will have in ten or fifteen years … Will Eriprando be a stranger to me? Or had the old man been lying?

‘Are you Mattia?’

‘I didn’t hope to be recognized by Voscenza .’

‘Carmine always held you both in his heart; you, Mattia, and you, too, Vincenzo. I came to know you both through his heart.’

Hearing these words, Vincenzo turns his eyes on me for a moment, but tears force him to lower his head.

‘And I am pleased to see that the rumours that there was bad blood between the Tudia and the Brandiforti were ill-founded.’

‘Foolish gossip, Tudia. Carmine was a man of honour, and rendered great service to us Brandiforti. My presence here confirms what I say. And so that everyone may know it, let us go to where vigil is being kept.’

I sit at the oval table between Mattia and Vincenzo, with bread and salt, water for women and red wine for men, the mirrors covered by black silk shawls, and listen to the deeds and joys and sorrows of Don Carmine, while from the wide-open door men and women with flowers and fruit file in uninterruptedly until night falls.

When night comes I can say goodbye to those who remain, and leave.

‘Go back alone, you say, Princess? It’s too dangerous! Just yesterday a car was attacked between Malpasso and Doria, and nothing but a few charred bones was left of what had once been a family. Surely, Princess, you should know that that’s how things are around here: they rob you, and to be sure they burn the rest…’

‘But I have a revolver.’

‘It’s convenient, certainly, if you’re faced with only one individual. But those thugs always go around amusing themselves as a gang. Allow me to insist. You cannot go alone.’

After hours of hostile silence, I can’t stand to have that young man near me for a single moment more. He’s nothing like Eriprando, or if he is, I don’t have the courage to peer into my future. With an effort, even though my frozen legs feel as heavy as lead, I head toward my car. But there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Eriprando’s voice suddenly seems to leap up, blithe and shrill, before me: ‘ Oh, no! No way, Mama! I’m going out with lovely Elena today. It’s settled. ’

Nothing can bend the stubborn will of that young Carmine. He’s just like I had dreamt that night. Or had I actually seen him speed past on Orlando, head high, his curls burnished by the setting sun?

‘On horseback, Princess? Oh, no! I get around on a motorcycle. This is my animal, right here. Never mind Orlando! This one has the power of a hundred horses put together.’

Either I’m confused by my exhaustion and the chill of that unnatural kiss imprinted on my flesh, or that young man, now laughing and caressing the shiny flanks of his iron horse, isn’t as inconsequential as you insinuated, Carmine.

‘You can barely stand up, Princess. Let me help you to your car.’

His hand clutching my arm rouses me from the mental delirium that has gripped me for hours; his fingers have Carmine’s dry heat.

‘You know, young man, you’re exactly like your father.’

What am I saying? A deep shudder now runs through his body, and he moves away in the darkness, as though he were upset.