Goliarda Sapienza - The Art of Joy

‘Aren’t troubadours poets?’

‘As soon as I get my degree, I’ll do nothing but write poetry and run outside, drinking up all the wind that stirs, enlivens, wakes — how beautiful words are, Carlo! — yes, well, that impregnates this island and allows it to be reborn, ever new … except for the attorneys, notaries and professors.’

‘How are things going at the university?’

‘To be truthful, Carlo, it’s horrible: they look at me as though I were a circus freak.’

‘Even the professors?’

‘Of course! They’re so astounded to see a female creature in those hallowed halls that they hardly question me. Everything I say is fine with them. It won’t be difficult to get my degree.’

‘You’ve told me everything about yourself but … why do you want to get this degree at all costs?’

‘When I was in the convent, it was one of my dreams, and childhood dreams should be cherished. Then, if there is an “afterwards”, I’ll go out and teach, like they do in Turkey. Atatürk has sent everyone to teach in the rural areas.’

‘For me, teaching was always boring.’

‘With children, it’s a different matter! You should see how much fun it is with Eriprando! I can’t wait to get back to the house and write him a delightful story I’ve thought up for tomorrow.’

‘What’s it about this time?’

‘The adventurous tale of a gecko’s journey along the desert of a wall.’

‘Still reading at this hour, Modesta?’

‘Oh, I didn’t hear you, Mattia.’

‘Are you doing the accounts?’

‘No, I was writing.’

‘No hugs for me?’

‘ Tosto caruso , if you hold me like that from behind, how can I hug you?’

‘You seem distant.’

‘No, it’s just that I was thinking…’

‘Maybe you’re angry because I haven’t been here for a week?’

‘Why should I be? It’s been that way with us these past months.’

‘I want you so much.’

‘It’s that time.’

‘So what? Blood is natural. Then if you want, if it doesn’t hurt — I know that sometimes it hurts you women — I can enter you without the glove. It’s more pleasurable … But how on earth did you get the idea of calling it that?’

I couldn’t mention old Carmine. He was the one who’d called it that; it would mean a big quarrel if I said his name.

‘Who knows! Have you had many women, Mattia?’

‘I had one serious affair when I was a soldier, a woman who taught me a lot of things! Before that I was a squeamish picciriddu … Then the front moved on and I had to leave her. The war moves slowly but it wipes out everything. It turns everything into a desert: houses, crops, feelings.’

‘What is war like, Mattia?’

‘Sickening! I saw so much blood! Sickening, but also thrilling at times. It’s like being in an exciting trance, challenging yourself and all of nature; when you rush out of the trenches, I mean, and go off to attack all together. Then comes the great calm of the trenches, the mud, the dust, a somnolence harbouring an eagerness for action. As you wait, you think you’re resting, you think you’re content with the silence, but when they start shooting, you realize in a flash that that was all you were waiting for, that you were thirsting for the screams and the exploding grenades. Well! War can even have its appeal! Sometimes this life seems like one long wait in a muddy trench.

‘Not when I’m with you, Modesta. How old are you? You seem like a picciridda right now, or are you a sorceress? My sorceress, my little lava devil … Why don’t you want me?’

‘Why do you say I don’t want you? You’re inside me, Mattia. I’m holding you in my arms.’

‘Your body wants me, but your mind? Where does your mind go? What is it looking for?’

‘You know what I’m looking for.’

‘Oh, sure! Excuses! Freedom, lack of freedom! It’s that you don’t love me.’

‘But I do love you, you pig-headed caruso .’

‘At night! But I want you all the time.’

‘But you can come any time. I told you.’

‘Oh, sure! To have tea, like a stranger.’

‘Why a stranger? A friend.’

‘There’s no such thing as friendship between a man and a woman. That, too, drives me crazy!’

‘Let’s not get started on Carlo again, Mattia!’

‘If only it were just Carlo! And that Pasquale, what does he come here for? And that one who is half woman, half carusu , who goes out by herself and goes to the university with you. What does she want from you? Don’t tell me she, too, comes here. Oh, Modesta, hold me close! Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind!’

‘Don’t squeeze me so tight like that. Let me go. You’re hurting me!’

‘You see, you hate me! Why are you so cold now?’

‘How many times must I tell you, Mattia? When you act like that, I lose my desire.’

‘I’m leaving before I kill you! Never mind desire! I’ll kill you, so help me God! You and all your friends. I’m leaving. Not a word, you Judas demon? 58Before, you used to get angry at least…’

My desire evaporated, hearing that hurtful voice. As the months went by, I increasingly hoped he wouldn’t appear, yet I couldn’t resist that body with its smooth, firm skin, barely past adolescence.

* * *

‘… Always splashing around in the water, right, Modesta? I like this dark body. I would never have believed it. Before, I used to like fair skin. Now those bodies seem pale compared to yours. Come away with me. Let’s go up north, where the sun is gentle and the water is placid. I like the sea of Capri, Ischia. Have you ever been there? Let’s take a honeymoon trip beforehand and then get married … Where were you last night? I waited two hours for you.’

‘I left you a note.’

‘I didn’t see it.’

‘Then you must not have looked carefully; it was on the desk.’

‘I hate that desk, and all those books. When you’re not here, everything in this room feels hostile to me. Where were you? With Prando? Was he acting up like last time?’

‘I was in Catania with Beatrice, who gave birth. We were worried about her; Beatrice has narrow hips. It was a lengthy labour and I couldn’t leave her.’

‘Oh! But in the end it all went well, if you’re smiling.’

‘She’s fine, but she has to stay in bed and rest quietly.’

‘What was it, a boy or a girl?’

‘A delicate, very beautiful little girl; she seems extraordinary, like a miniature woman.’

‘Too bad! I imagine your brother-in-law…’

‘Why too bad? I said she was delicate, but she’s healthy.’

‘It’s not that. They say that if a girl is born first, another two or three will follow her. That it’s a struggle to have a boy. What is it, Modesta? Why are you shaking now?’

I was shaking at those words that had just been spoken so scornfully. I try to understand the reason for that insane contempt which before, in my struggle for survival, I had underestimated, or rather accepted as something natural, like the Mountain, the sea, the seasons. But now I cannot contain an impulse of blind hatred for that man who stares at me, bewildered, as he keeps saying:

‘What’s wrong, Modesta? What did I say? What did I do?’

‘Go, please, I don’t feel well. If you come tomorrow, during the day when everything is clearer, perhaps I can explain it to you.’

‘Is Beatrice in danger?’

‘It’s not that, Mattia. I’m confused. Please go. I need to be alone.’

‘All right. You study too much, Modesta, you’re tired … All right, I’ll go, just don’t look at me like that. By now I know my Princess. Oh, Modesta, tomorrow I’m going to Modica; I’ll be there a week, I have some business to attend to, but as soon as I get back you’ll see me … Aren’t you glad I tell you what I’m doing? You should be pleased…’