Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

‘What are you doing?’

‘I want him, right away!’

‘Crazy little thing! First you didn’t want to see him and now…’

‘Now I’ve seen him, I’ve fallen in love, and I’m taking him away with me. I’m stealing him, and I’m going to name him Jacopo. Jacopo! Don’t you see how he responds with his eyes? It’s his name.’

‘How crazy you women are! I see. Wrap him up well, and let’s go. I’ll take you home, where I hope you’ll have him fed.’

‘Oh! Don’t worry about a wet-nurse. Two days ago Stella had a baby boy as well, and I’m sure Jacopo will like her. Stella is the prettiest peasant girl around here.’

Carlo, eyes carefully on the road, drove slowly, like last time, to avoid the bumps and holes, the sharp turns, the sudden appearance of a dog or a bicycle. He accelerated cautiously to pass a wagon, a laden donkey or a flock of sheep that turned the air into a cloud of dust. It hadn’t rained in months. But soon, at some invisible signal, the great white clouds suspended over the arid dunes would burst into cool tears marking summer’s end.

Every so often, like last time, his eyes hold mine in the rearview mirror and help me carry a living being in my arms. For the first time in my life, I found myself talking about a heavy log that I had to drag, about a hovel lost in a sea of mud, about the flames of a lamp hurled against a door by my own hand …

‘You taught me to swim, Carlo, to speak; teach me to think like you. The future lies in men like you.’

In the mirror, his soft gaze is like a gentle kiss on my forehead, but a new sadness drifted over his eyes, like a late-summer rain cloud.

‘Are you sad because you see that I can never be like you, Carlo?’

‘No, Modesta, I’m sad because I fear that some irreparable mistake has been committed by us men of the future, as you call us. I listen to you and I no longer dare speak to you of certainties, as I would have done only a year ago. Look over there, in front of that flock. Here, too, pennants like in Rome, with that slogan: “ Me ne frego” , I don’t give a damn. 54In one year, this abnormal burgeoning of skulls and crossbones … He seized the opportunity, the Honourable Benito Mussolini. No platform for his party: ‘ We are about action rather than words! ’ The coal crisis, England’s defaulting debtors … to save the situation, a loan from the United States must be obtained. Only to reach the point of blackmail: “ The Fascist revolt against the intolerable Bolshevik regime ”.’

‘Is that why you’re sad?’

‘No, I’m not worried. They won’t succeed … I’m sad because of the mistakes we made in the past, and your faith in me scares me a little. You, on the other hand, should never change. Don’t try to imitate men. I have the vague sensation that there is a new strength in you and in Beatrice.’

‘Before, you used to say I was immoral, and I…’

‘Before, I didn’t understand a thing … Now what, Modesta? Why are you laughing again?’

‘I’m laughing because this Jacopo is incredibly strong. He’s really hearty! We won’t have problems like we did with Eriprando.’

‘What problems, Modesta?’

‘Well, he didn’t want to suckle!’

‘And this makes you laugh?’

‘I wish this ride would never end, Carlo! It’s nice to be driven by you like this. Beatrice told me that you two often go walking on the slopes of the Mountain.’

‘Yes, often.’

‘That, too, has made her become so strong and composed. Does she lean on your arm when you walk?’

‘Of course.’

‘I envy her, Carlo.’

‘And I envy your being able to say “I envy her.” Don’t ever change, Modesta. Don’t imitate us men!’

‘Why didn’t she come with you?’

‘As if you didn’t know her! You got her off your hands, and now you ask! Shameless!’

‘I enjoy hearing you tell me what I know. She’s your wife, and you have to take care of her. She gave you a hard time, did she?’

‘I’ll say! For months, she wouldn’t even accept the idea of having a niece or nephew by that commoner, Inès.’

‘I can just hear her!’

‘Then, more because of concern for you, at least we were able to talk about it. But she wouldn’t come. About that, there was nothing I could do to make her budge. “Me in a hospital ward like any ordinary commoner? Never!”’

‘And where is she now?’

‘At your house. Didn’t Pietro tell you? The poor man! She chased him off rudely when he came with the news. “Only so as not to offend Modesta, I’ll go to her house and see her. But never, ever will I set eyes on a bastard child!”’

‘Oh, Carlo, how well you imitate her! You make me die laughing. Do it again, please!’

‘“Never ever, Modesta! You can’t ask me to imitate her, ever! Uffa , never!”’

* * *

In front of the gate

Pietro is pacing up and down with an alacrity unthinkable for that immense body. From time to time he wipes his perspiring cranium under the bewildered eyes of Signorina Elena who, silent and motionless, is struggling to contain an unusual trembling in her lips and hands:

‘Oh. Princess, thank God you’re here! I can’t take it! Forgive me, but I can’t stand it. I cannot stand this tension! Look at him; he isn’t even aware of your presence. He’s beside himself; it’s frightening!’

‘What’s wrong, Pietro? Tell me, what is it?’

‘Oh, Mody, Beatrice chased me away again! It’s a sign that she really doesn’t want him! She doesn’t want my dear Prince’s baby.’

‘Who’s the mistress in this house, Pietro?’

‘ Voscenza , Princess.’

‘Then calm down. Here we do what I say.’

‘Yes, yes, Mody, but with bad blood, if Beatrice doesn’t want him, with bad blood! There has never been bad blood in the Brandiforti family!’

‘What is he saying, Princess? He’s been moaning and groaning for the past hour. I should point out that all this tension is upsetting Eriprando. I sent him to play on the beach with Nunzio just in time…’

‘That’s just what Pietro is saying, in other words, Elena.’

‘But he’s the one who started shouting at Argentovivo.’

‘Why at Argentovivo?’

‘I’ll tell you why, Mody: that woman from the continent doesn’t understand a thing! It’s because she, Argentovivo, instead of soothing the troubled waters and calming Beatrice, backs her up. It’s unfair! In God’s truth, she and Beatrice are unfair! Beatrice: what can you expect! But her, why fan the flames?’

‘Then we’ll extinguish the flames. Don’t worry, Pietro, calm down!.. Here, you take him, he’s heavy. Don’t you see I’m holding him? There, bring him to Stella, before he starves to death.’

‘But I … I don’t know how to hold him! What if I drop him and he breaks? Signorina Elena, you take him…’

‘Go on, Pietro, don’t make a fuss!’

‘Forgive me, Princess, and you too, signorina , but I was upset because I had decided to leave if the right thing wasn’t done. And going away and leaving my Mody and my Beatrice would have been a terrible step for Pietro.’

‘As you can see, you won’t have to take that step. Now go on!’

‘Oh! He’s crying, Mody! I didn’t hurt him, did I?’

‘No, Pietro, I told you he’s crying because he’s hungry.’

* * *

In the parlour

In the parlour’s shadows, Beatrice stood waiting, with Argentovivo nearby. The drawn drapes brought back the dimness and feelings of a much earlier time.

‘This house has become a barracks, Modesta! The drapes wide open, the furniture unpolished, not one vase of flowers! I don’t like that Signorina Elena; she seems like a carabiniere . I took the liberty of telling her so, and I’m telling you as well.’