The Late Mattia Pascal L. Pirandello
INTRODUCTION
One of the few, indeed perhaps the only one I know for sure was this: that my name was Mattia Pascal.
And I would enjoy.
Whenever someone from 'my friends and acquaintances showed he had lost his senses to the point of coming to me for some advice or suggestions, I shrugged, closing his eyes and answered:
- My name is Mattia Pascal.
- Thanks, dear. I know that.
- And little do you think?
did not seem much, to tell the truth, even to me. But did not know then what it meant not to know even this, not being able to answer, that is, as before, where applicable:
- My name is Mattia Pascal
sorry for someone will love (so cheap), imagine the terrible grief of a poor wretch, who let it be suddenly discover that ... yes, nothing, in short, neither father nor mother, nor how it was or was not, and surely must resent well (it also costs less) of the corruption of morals, and de 'vices, and the sadness of the times, that's too bad may be the cause of a poor innocent.
Well, sit down. But it is my duty to warn him that this is not really about that. May I present here, in fact, in a family tree, the origin and lineage of my family and show how qualmente I not only met my father and my mother, but my ancestors and their actions, in a long course of time, not all really commendable.
So what?
Behold, my case is much more strange and different, so different and strange to me do I narrate.
I was, for about two years, I do not know if more hunters of mice that look of books in a library Boccamazza monsignor in 1803, wanted to let dying to our City. It 'clear that this lord had to know just the character and habits of' his fellow citizens, or perhaps hoped that his legacy would eventually turn and comfort in their hearts the love of learning. So far, I can testify, it was not turned on, and this I say in praise of 'My fellow citizens: the gift indeed the city proved so very grateful to Boccamazza, that he would not erect a half-length while it was, and the books left for many many years and stacked in a large, damp warehouse, from which then took them, think you in what state, to contract out of the way in the church of Santa Maria Liberal I do not know for what reason desecrated. Here gave them, without any discrimination, as a benefit, and as sinecure, a few idle which is well protected, for two shillings a day, according to watch, or even without looking at all, he had endured the stench for a few hours of mold and old stuff.
Tal lot came to me, and since the first day I conceived so poor estimate of the books, Let them be they in print or manuscripts (ancient as some of our library), not now I would never ever put in writing, if, as I said, really weird does not value my case and that it can serve as an instruction to any curious reader, who by chance, falling finally to effect the old hope of the good soul of Monsignor Boccamazza, happen in this library, which I leave this manuscript, with an obligation, however, that no one can open it if not fifty years after my third, final and definitive death.
As for the time being (and God knows how much I regret), I'm dead, yes, twice already, but the first error, and the second ... feel.
INTRODUCTION II
The idea, or rather, I suggest you write came from my friend Rev. Don Eligio Pellegrinotti, and the present keeper of the books of Boccamazza, and to whom I entrust the manuscript will be finished soon, if ever.
I write here, in the church desecrated by the light that comes from the lantern above, the dome, here, the apse is dedicated to the library and closed by a low wooden railing pillars, Don Eligio and puffing in the position he has taken heroically to bring some 'order in this true of Babylon books. I fear that no one will ever break.
....
Well, for the sake of this providential distraction, as well as the strangeness of my case, I will speak of me, but as briefly as I can, ie giving only those news which shall think necessary.
Some of them, of course, they will do me great honor, but I am now in a state so unique, that can be considered as already out of life, and therefore no obligations and no scruples whatsoever.
start.
