Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorio by Amara Lakhous Read Free Book Online Page B

communicate with the outside world. Do we want to take away their natural and legitimate rights? One time, I got fed up with Stefania’s aggressiveness toward little Valentino and I yelled at her, “You’re a racist, a fanatic, and I will not allow you to insult Valentino!” After that she didn’t speak to me for years, whereas Signor Amedeo continued to greet me as if nothing had happened. I’m going to go to the Chinese embassy in Rome, I’ll ask them to intervene. That’s the only way I’ll ever hold poor kidnapped Valentino in my arms again.
    The Italian state should be on my side. Am I not a good citizen? Don’t I pay my taxes regularly, before the deadline? Can’t I claim the rights guaranteed me by the constitution? Aren’t I a good Catholic who performs her religious duties properly? I’ve written three letters of reminder, to the Holy Father, the President of the Republic, and the Prime Minister. Each of them should carry out his proper responsibilities.
    If Benedetta the Neapolitan’s suspicions about the involvement of the Chinese in Valentino’s kidnapping are true, then the least the Italian authorities could do to show solidarity would be to cut off diplomatic relations with China and throw the owners of Chinese restaurants in jail. No, that’s nothing, they should kick China out of the U.N. and place it under embargo. No, that wouldn’t satisfy me, either. Isn’t it legitimate for Italy, as a member of NATO, to declare war? Aren’t some of the taxes I pay deposited in NATO’s coffers? Aren’t there American military bases in Italian territory?
    Suspicion also falls on Marina, Benedetta’s daughter-in-law, who every time she saw Valentino never stopped saying, “What a sweetie! What a sweetie!” Everyone knows that Marina is Sardinian, and Sardinia is famous for kidnappings. You remember the business with Fabrizio De André and the entrepreneur Giuseppe Soffiantini? Evidently the kidnappers modified their strategy, going from men to dogs, having got the idea how much people love dogs. I’m expecting a call asking for ransom. I won’t inform the police, so as not to put Valentino’s life in danger. I’m ready to spend all the money I have to get Valentino back. I’m lonely without Valentino, I can’t live without him.
    My grand dream has been destroyed. I wanted Valentino to become a famous actor, like Inspector Rex, who tracks down criminals and arrests them. That young Dutch boy Johan asked me to be in a film he wants to make in Piazza Vittorio. I said I would accept on one condition: that Valentino should be in the film. At first he hesitated, then he said yes. I was preparing Valentino for the future, after the bashing I got from my only son. Before leaving home forever and joining those friends of his in the social-service cooperatives, Alberto said to me, “You’re a jailer in this house, and I want to live without bars. This house is a market, you are a merchant, and I am a client. I want to live far away from consumer society!” I still don’t understand: what do I have to do with prisons and markets? I begged him to stay, but he was indifferent to my tears. My first dream was for him to become a great movie actor like Marcello Mastroianni or Alberto Sordi, but I failed to get him into the Olympus of stars. I never give up, though; I won’t accept defeat or consider something a fait accompli. That’s why I decided to teach Valentino to perform difficult tricks. I went a long way with him and I was just about to reap the fruits of my hard work.
    Amedeo an immigrant! How strange. Every so often we watched the demonstrations in Piazza Vittorio for the rights of immigrants: the right to work, to housing, to health care, the vote, and so on. I say that the rights of the native-born come first, and dogs are children of this country. I don’t trust immigrants. I read recently in the paper that an immigrant gardener raped an old woman who had given him everything: residency