Memories Of Our Days. Chiara Cesetti
whether they wanted the war or not, would have ever thought that it was going to be so huge. That has never been one in history. Millions of dead people….millions…you know, millions of dead people and disabled people- Fosco seemed to be talking to himself- The United States which entered a European war with all their economic power…such different worlds that come close. I wonder what consequences there will be…-
-And what about what happened in Russia? What a great revolution we experienced!- Rudi added
-The truth is that not just three years went by, but a century…-
-This big upheaval will change the way people saw the world, it will change our lives ..maybe you are not so aware here in the village…for you life has stayed the same and the war has only brought sorrows, without changing things too much. In the cities however it was very different. Many women did men’s jobs and we can’t go back. This and much more will get our values and habits to change…-
Giovanni listened quietly. The two young men seemed to understand that that was only the beginning of a new world, new and full of unfamiliar situations. He felt almost old. Not so much old but he felt he was holding on to a time that was not going to be the same and would have easily got out of his hands. He saw his children in an unknown future and, like every father, he was afraid he could not protect them as he would have wanted.
Rudi and Fosco left again after a few days. Rudi had now decided to move to Milano. Fosco would help him get a job for his newspaper.
1 Chapter XII
1919
Fosco’s flat was small and always untidy. Plates and glasses would easily fill up suddenly the kitchen, which you could access climbing two steps. The desk was packed with pieces of papers, it was huge as compared to the rest of the furniture, it had been moved under the window of the sitting room and now the bed for the new guest had taken its place. Fosco insisted on giving him the only bedroom because he did not sleep that much
-You see, with all the mess that’s around here, you are running the risk that during the night, in the darkness, I can fall on top of you. You are safer there. -
Rudi did not accept.
As a matter of fact, Fosco did sleep very little. During the hottest evenings he would look outside the window for hours smoking, watching the night life in Milan where now and again a drunkard would fall down to the ground quietly by a lamp post and tried hard to get back up mumbling meaningless sentences. Women with flashy clothes showing a low-cut neckline would pass by laughing far too merrily, wrapped around men of any age who would stop to hug them with lust and kiss them on the neck. To Fosco was enough a gesture, a word pronounced in the quietness of the night to be able to imagine the lives of unknown passers-by, follow their thoughts and their habits to the squalor of their houses or to the respectable routine of a bourgeois life.
The whispers of the city at night, mixed with the dampness, would get into the room and would fill it with a strange sadness which blended with the smoke of the cigarettes. That went on until the malaise that took over him was almost unbearable. He then closed the window to keep it outside.
Only at daybreak the city started to change. The doors of the house opened and closed quietly. Men and women would go out lazily to go to work, doing one another’s chores which could not even thought of before the war. People who knew one another greeted with a nod of their heads, the others would pass by without looking at one another, still thinking about their bed and their sleep. Often that was the time when Fosco would go to bed, and then wake up a short time after, rested as if he had slept all night. Sometimes dawn would come all of a sudden, as by surprise, and he was busy writing.
Rudi got to know him and did have the intention to get him to change his habits. That’s why they decided to bring another table in the bedroom so that it could be Fosco’s new desk, where to spend his long sleepless nights.
Fosco did not have to insist too much to get his friend employed by the same newspaper. It was necessary to have young people willing to follow the fast events which were troubling the city. Rudi introduced himself as a young man suitable to follow the city news section. He was out and about with the new job. In the evening, when he got home they commented together on the daily events, more and more concerned about the feeling of distress which could be felt in the city
-Today I saw a group of women who were demonstrating outside a bakery. They were screaming that the bread can’t be four times more expensive than a few months ago. The baker got scared and locked up the shop-.
-Since the end of the war, life has become more difficult. After the peace, life has not gone back to normal as we hoped. Too much discontent, too many promised that have not been kept. I fear that this situation will lead to the worse-
-No matter where you go, there are groups of people who talk about wages going down, the cost of living has gone up enormously, new taxes on the way and those who are back from the front after a long time do not have a job anymore-
-We must expect many and new social changes, Rudi, many and new-
-Yesterday I went past the headquarters of that new movement.
-Which one?-
-The Italian fascist movement-
-Have you seen anything unusual?-
-No, but I had the impression that contrapositions between different movements will not fail to show up soon-
-If acceptable solutions for everyone are not found soon, if this discontentment is underestimated, I am afraid that there will be serious consequences to face-
In Milan, industry and agricultural workers along with retailers would get together more and more often to express their difficulties that the government seemed to ignore. Virtually every day there were riots which were more or less violent among groups of nationalist and socialist rioters. There were numerous parades and political meetings which easily ended up violently and the population, from the richest to the poorest, lived in a state of great distress, in the cities as well as all over Italy.
Fosco and Rudi got up early. The mid -April light was just about peeping through the windows. It was going to be a long and busy day. That morning a general strike was scheduled by the Socialist Party after the riots with the police occurred two days before. A worker died and a few others had got injured.
Fosco was standing beside the cooker making a very strong coffee, the first one of a long series.
-I am concerned- Rudi said – All it takes is for the wrong bunch of people to join the parade for everything to degenerate.-
-With what is going on daily in the city, it is really very worrying- Fosco replied tightening too much the coffee maker. He managed to find a bagful of real coffee, instead of that stuff that people had been using for years now. The morning preparation was very accurate, virtually meticulous. To They kept silent, deep in their thoughts, listening to the sound of the water that was starting to boil. Fosco accurately turned the coffee maker around. Rudi smiled at his great commitment. A lovely smell of coffee all over the kitchen.
-Do you think that the nationalists will give up their demonstration against the official one?
-I don’t think so- Fosco replied – the parade was cancelled but I fear that not everybody is in agreement. I bel someone will demonstrate anyway. It won’t be easy to keep under control the most riotous ones among the socialists-
More silence in the room. Staring at the empty cups, the two friends sat still deep in their thoughts.
Fosco was the first one to break his inner monologue
-Where is the newsroom sending you today?- he asked
-I’ll be in the city centre keeping an eye on people’s state of mind …what about you?-
-I’m going to the Arena to a political meeting-
-Shall we meet up at the newsroom headquarters tonight?-
-We’ll stay up till late tonight…-