History (82 page)

to a third species. It is a species that lives ( perhaps endangered? ) and dies, and gives no news of i tself, except at times, perhaps, in the crime reports. And in this autumn-winter, moreover, our Iduzz lived surrounded by a haze which blocked even her usual-and nearsighted-view of the terres trial planet.

Of that year's events-political battles, changes of government-she knew little or nothing. And her only social problem (added to the insuffi ciency of her salary with the current inflation) was now the terror of being driven from her post for unsatisfactory performance. We already know that, by habit, she never read the newspapers. And since the war had

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ended, and the Germans had gone away, the adult world had again with drawn from her, casting her back on the sands of her destiny like an infi esimal bit of fl after an ocean storm.

In the month of June, for the fi time in her life, she had been called to cast her personal vote in the elections. And since rumors were circulating that absen teeism would be recorded as culpable by the Authorities, she had turned up at the polls, among the earliest and most eager: voting
republic
and
Communism,
for so she had been advised by Remo the tavernkeeper. If the choice had been her own, she would have liked to vote
anarchy
in memory of her father; but Remo, irritated, had gravely disapproved, in forming her at the same time that there was no such party on the ballot anyway.

Before the year's end, Remo appeared at Via Bodoni another couple of times, considering it an obligation not to leave the mother of Comrade Ace of Hearts always alone. During those visits, she would sit there fi with embarrassment, not knowing how to perform her duties, recom pense the guest, or what to say to him, always telling Useppe and Bella breathlessly to behave themselves and not make so much noise. Remo, for his part, realized it was perhaps best not to mention Ninnuzzu at all to the poor lady; so he then diverted her with political matters, which were always his chief passion. On this score, unlike Ninnuzzu, he revealed himself optimistic and confi in the future, citing this or that contemporary occurrence on the earth (revolts in the Colonies, civil war in China and in Greece, Ho Chi Minh's struggle in Indochina, and in Italy strikes and clashes between police and peasants, workers, etc.) as a propitious sign the world was on the move. And this time nobody could stop the people's progress. This wasn't 1918 any longer. This time Communism had won the war! Hadn't it been the Red Army that destroyed Hitler's forces? And here in Italy, hadn't it been the Garibaldi brigades (Hammer and Sickle) that had organized the Resistance? And once the march was in progress, who could stop it?! The apparent retreats, betrayals, and delays ( which had disgusted Ninnarieddu), according to Remo, were only a tactic, which you always had to calculate in politics; and the secret of this tactic, like every other secret of victory and fi redemption, was kept in only one place, absolutely sure: namely, the mind of Comrade Togliatti. There were no evils, problems of society-Remo's talk seemed to indicate-for which Comrade Togliatti, guided by his inner genius, didn't already know the remedy and the solution, imminent or future. In his mind, all was settled; and Comrade Stalin himself-in Remo's view-made no important deci sion without fi consulting Comrade Togliatti. Both then, between the two of them, knew best what the right line was : always the one pointed out by Comrade Lenin, and inspired by the wisdom of Carlo Marx. These

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were scientifi truths, tested and ripened; and in fact the diff peoples were now on the move, following the indications of the great Comrades of the present and of the past. Judging by all the signs, we were today on the eve of the New World : "The two of us, Signora, sitting here today and talking, tomorrow we'll see the New World!"

So Comrade Remo assured her, faith burning in his grave, hollow eyes, and in his thin, dark face, like a woodman's or a stone-cutter's. And Ida, seated opposite him in the cold little kitchen of Via Bodoni, won dered if, in that grand New \Vorld there would be a place, at least, for li ttle ones like Useppe.

On the night of 31 December 1946, in Rome, the year's end was hailed with a general din of fi ackers and paper-bombs.

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. . . . . .

1947