Until the day that changed the card over the telephone, I have always believed that the name of my grandmother was Anna. Anagrafe, Instead, it was recorded as Annina Barani and as the diminutive names I've never understood, I am convinced that his parents wanted to avoid the palindrome, superstition. A silly superstition, I might add, because what can wrap maintaining the sound and sense is magical, while the irreversible and tragic as life.
Anna had just under thirty years old when the bombs began to fall on Massa: next to the dairy cooperative in which he worked, to the left, there was Piazza Aranci, so named because it is surrounded by orange trees, under a square air-raid shelter over the buildings around the smashed oranges. A whole mass has a simple name and unequivocal, as Piazza Mazzini, whom everyone calls Mercury square by a statue of the pagan god. For each place name irreversible, because no one is confused, Massa has done so, and for that, I think, Massesi give their children unusual names: Alberigo, Ilva. Seventh was the elder sister Anna, opposite in character and build: Seventh fine and sensitive, robust and unconscious Anna. And the bombs began to fall shortly after the Germans arrived dressed in black and brown - Cagnacci, call them friendly - and with them the displaced in the area, before the mass of its hosting displaced people. Seventh feared them as death, Cagnacci, when knocking on their door to seize the non-existent reserves of oil and wine. Once he was terrified to the point of it on me, so after the infamous summer of '44, Anna was convinced to let her escape in Pistoia with children still on a small truck in the middle of the trail, on top of the Garfagnana, left her , the small children and another twenty unfortunates, who did the rest of the journey on foot. Apparently, in addition to migrants, we were a nation of smugglers.
My grandfather Albert had passed the front. He was a policeman, Albert, because he could read and write but had too many brothers to study, so the military was sent to Rome where he learned to fly a car and shoot. My grandfather was a typist in the police station and never fire (his colleagues feared that lead to ruin the nimble fingers), and yet the partisans in the mountains not have him with them, despite the good intentions of many of Albert and his colleagues after ' September 8, for the men from the regime preseguitati the word cop the jailer pronounced without the possibility of palindromes, and then my grandfather, who cares about Duce and he missed his family in Abruzzo and was afraid of the bombs, took the uniform and gun, the buried, put on civilian clothes, and began to walk home, where his mother waited Carolina with his poems written on paper Tissue and Aunt Gina who had begun to keep the tomatoes in glass jars. There, the bombs did not fall over, and Anna could not believe it. Monteodorisio in 1944 was the other side of the world: the war was almost over, the sun was rising from the sea and went to bed in the mountains. And if you try to read the contrary, in '44 Monteodorisio turned into Massa in '44, where the sun was rising from the Apuan Alps to cry red tears in the Tyrrhenian Sea: a different story, in spite of palindromes.
The power to change things and give names to read it in one direction: hunger ration book was called, and a cooperative of Anna was up to administer shots coupon she had to play the part of the scheme. Even the food had been renamed and numbered as in a concentration camp in appetite, because people do not forget the taste and feel nostalgia for a full belly. However, after the city was emptied, it fell to someone to bring food to the displaced , on the contrary, we read starved : So every morning, climbing the straduzze and the center lead to Altagnana, San Carlo, Canevara up to the quarries of marble statuary, Anna dragged walk a few pounds of flour and sawdust, while the edge of the street grew piscialletto the uneducated, the poor, chicory and blueberry, with their perfume inattinto on the contrary, we read attention minefields. Every morning up to challenge shots, and every evening down at home with the empty bag and coupons torn, Anna watched the sunset on the west coast redundant, like that of Normandy, as the marble stones down to the sea, to become sand, then cement, but they may eventually go back and white polished stone. Up and down the Apuan strife between the Germans and the partisans, with the lousy bread fought between the Germans and partisans, too hungry, but with the advantage of tactical weapons, Anna was his war: fifty years after listening to justify the attachment pathological wicker chair with his I walked the words enough.
(thanks to Manicardi, who worked on a book - trust - beautiful, which are explained, and download things here, like that tomorrow is going to Carpi and law).
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