Curiosa personalità la Natura

La categoria Curiosa personalità la Natura del Bolg di Lino Berton si riferisce alle forze della natura, alla bellezza, alla voluttà della vita, angoli di pozzo, alla gioia di riempire l’anima di natura attiva e selvaggia, ai segreti del mondo

Conobbi l’ombra un’estate da bambino

 

Solo quando mi trovai nella barca, sul mare ghiacciato, dentro al nostro sogno, capii che mi ero legato a una tela più grande di quella che la mia mente era abituata a dipingere. Lo capii mentre guardavo il cielo nero.

Conobbi l’ombra un’estate da bambino.

Alla fine delle scuole medie, il professore d’educazione artistica mi prese in disparte e mi sottopose tutti i miei disegni; tutti rappresentavano una scogliera con una piccola spiaggia e la linea dell’orizzonte accoglieva un mezzo sole che si specchiava sul mare. Quel sole permetteva al mio pensiero di uscire dall’Inferno. Quel sole era il mio chiodo fisso, riusciva a tenermi aggrappato a ciò che vedevo oltre me stesso. Quel sole mi rendeva libero di pensare e disegnandolo trovavo lo spiraglio capace di farmi uscire da lì.

Da Qualcosa che non muore – pag. 24 – 25 – capitolo Il sole di Munch

Something that never dies

Something

that never dies

 

I broke away from Sandra and started slowly to move. It was late at night on Good Friday, I took the wedding ring off her finger, returned home and threw myself on the bed. I had entered a world made up of dry fog, soundless. I was finally out of hell.

I think my destiny took its course one summer when I was a child. I took refuge in the outdoors with my mixed-up friends who my mother detested and humiliated all the time, calling them stupid imaginary creatures. I spent my days living like Ulysses – moving from island to island, trying to outwit my mother – writing and drawing what I saw without ever putting into words what I dreamt. The summer break wasn’t a short one and I suddenly found I was grown-up, useless, good for nothing.

Then I met a beautiful girl with black hair and married her without even finding out that her hair was actually red.

After our honeymoon we lived mainly in my world, until a certain day.

First page

 

Change of plan

 

Friday May 5th. Everything changed that day.

After work I met up with Sandra for lunch at our usual snack bar. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, she was fresh from the gym and the shower, wearing jeans and a white shirt.

We were planning to leave for Austria for a few days, for a change of scene and a walk on the grass in bare feet, near a lake.

We talked about her left arm. It had been swollen and red for a week and she was worried about it. I suggested going to A&E. It was to have been a quick visit.

Her smooth, black hair continued to caress the left side of her face and she was looking at me the way she did when she wanted to make love.

That day she moved as she always had, as if she was afraid of nothing, she was sweet, she hugged me and her smile was wonderful.

That day my mental images were clear, the sky was blue and my diaphragm relaxed.

Two hours later, I found myself staring at the feet of a female doctor walking towards me on a white plastic floor.

Sandra’s X-ray had revealed a shadow on her chest.

The doctor told me: We’re admitting her to the Pneumology ward for all the tests”.

“Is it in her lungs?”.

“No, between her lungs”.

 

A state-of-the-art hospital

 

That evening I returned home hoping that by morning the shadow would have melted away.

In the morning the pneumologist told me that it had been quite a struggle to get a CT scan done on Sandra that day. Saturdays, at the lake, are different from other days. I thanked him and looked up this suspected lymphoma in the midst of children playing on the grass. “Don’t worry, it’s curable, I sail with a friend who had what your wife has many years ago”.

At the exact moment that I realised that I was in hell, I tried to understand how that segment of the world worked and went out into the garden.

The imposing glass and concrete building was set in a large, bare garden.

The ground floor was occupied by a suffocating heat, a coffee bar with large windows, an efficient funeral director ready to take anyone away and a lift to the wards.

The eleven months I spent in that place weren’t a traumatic event in my life, hell was simply a different place I was obliged to occupy for a while.

 

Neuroses at the café

 

As a child what terrified me most wasn’t losing my parents but losing the woman I was to love. What can a child imagine?

This is why my task in this life cannot have been to find Sandra, fall in love, decide to marry her just to say goodbye and let her go. Those images must have made some sense, perhaps I had to save her before it was too late or perhaps I should have tried to change something sooner, before she got ill.

That day I couldn’t make sense of why we’d ended up there. Sandra was young, she took exercise, ate healthily – fresh vegetables and fruit, few proteins – didn’t smoke and seemed happy. It didn’t make sense that we had ended up at that place.

Before I went to visit her in her new room, I took refuge in the coffee bar which became a habit to be followed over the days to come. Sitting there I discovered lukewarm toasted sandwiches, dry apple cake and coffee with an aftertaste which made me feel sick and from the conversations of two doctors who had just been at a trade union meeting I discovered that anti-depressives are the best selling drugs after tranquillisers.

Obsessive behaviour was also at home there.

The doctor closest to me kept stirring his coffee giving me the impression that he had no intention of stopping and the other one seemed to be fixated with the sugar spilt on the bar counter. And they kept on talking. While I continued to hear sounds of motorboats and voices of people running on the grass and kept turning round while the lake was no longer there.

 

Love vacuum

 

When I went into Sandra’s room I saw that it had been her shadow which had created that mass.

Before I even sat down she said “Don’t worry, it’s nothing, I can feel it”.

We carried on denying the truth to ourselves right up to the end.

It had been a night two years earlier while we were lying down that our eyes met and by mistake I entered the darkness of her eyes and my shadow injected something into her. At that exact moment her shadow also projected something into me and from that moment I couldn’t break away from her.

We both knew that we had created something at that instant but neither of us ever said anything about it to the other.

In that place we ended up in, on the other hand, the centre of everything was nothingness. Every day the head physician parked his luxury English car in a free car park just a few minutes from the hospital to keep at least his car away from that place. When he arrived at the corridors of his ward he shouted like a madman. He was unmoving, there was plenty of inertia there. The doctors passed Sandra from pillar to post every day, from Sandra to the illness, with the first X-ray the first day.

Every time they crossed paths they passed the ball on the basis of their mutual likes and dislikes calling Sandra “the one with the mediastinal mass”, they spoke rapidly of symptoms, interpreted what they saw and projected their shadows onto her.

We passed our days waiting for tests of various degrees of importance. Without ever consulting colleagues from other wards, they prepared what was necessary and discussed the most varied subjects such as car colour, then looked at the time and said: “Anyway this test isn’t important. Tomorrow’s test is more important”.

 

 

死なないもの

 

死なないもの

私はサンドラから離れ、ゆっくりと動き始めた。それは復活祭の金曜日の夜遅くだった。私は彼女の指から結婚指輪を外し、家に帰ってベッドに身を投げた。私は音の無い、乾いた霧でつくられた世界に入っていた。私はついに、「地獄」の外にいた。

私の運命の進む道は、子供の頃のある夏に決まったのだと思う。私は、母が想像上の愚かな生き物として嫌悪して繰り返し侮辱していた私の落ちこぼれの友達と、自然の中に逃避していた。私はオデュッセウスのように日々を過ごしていた ― 母から上手く逃れられるように島から島へと移動しながら ― 何を夢見ているのかははっきりさせないまま、見たものを文字にしたり描いたりしつつ。夏の期間は短くなく、私は生きるすべも知らず、何もできないまま成長していた。

それから、黒い髪をしたとても美しい女の子に出会い、髪の毛は本当は赤いのだと知らないまま、彼女と結婚した。

新婚旅行の後、あの日までは、私たちはとりわけ私の中の世界で生きていた。

 

計画の変更

 

5月5日金曜日。その日すべてが変わった。

 

仕事の後、私はいつもの軽食屋で昼食をとるためにサンドラと一緒にいた。午後二時だった。サンドラはジムに行って、そしてシャワーを浴びてきたところで、ジーンズに白いブラウスだった。

少し気晴らしをして、湖の近くで裸足で芝生を歩こうと、数日間オーストリアに行くことを計画していた。

彼女の左腕のことを話した。一週間前から腫れ上がって赤くなっていて、それは彼女を心配させていた。私は彼女に救急病院に行くように勧めた。短時間の診察のはずだった。

 

彼女の髪 ― 黒くてまっすぐな ― は彼女の顔の左側を撫でるように揺れ続けていた。彼女は、セックスをしたい時のように、私を見つめ始めた。

その日、彼女はいつものように、まるで何の不安もないかのようだった。優しく、私を抱きしめて、うっとりするような笑顔で笑った。

 

その日、私が見る景色は鮮明で、空は晴れていて、私の横隔膜は穏やかに動いていた。

 

2時間後、私はプラスチックの白い床を私の方に向かって歩いてくる女医の足元をじっと見つめていた。

サンドラが受けたレントゲン写真撮影は、胸部に影があることを明らかにした。

女医は、私に言った。「これから、全ての検査を行うため、呼吸器科にお入りいただきます」。

「肺の中ですか?」

「いいえ。肺と肺の間です。」

 

素晴らしい施設

 

その夜は、朝には影は消えているのではないかという希望を持って家に帰った。

朝、呼吸器科医は、その日サンドラにTAC(断層撮影)をするために全力を尽くしたと言った。土曜日は湖で、特別な日だ。私は医師に礼を言い、そして医者は私にリンパ腫の疑いを告げた― 芝生で騒ぐ子供の声が聞こえる中で。「ご心配なさらないでください。治ります。私は、何年も前に奥様と同じ病気を患った友人と一緒にボートに乗っています。」

 

「地獄」に来てしまったことに気付いたと同時に、世界のこの一片はどのように機能しているのか理解しようと、私は庭に出た。

 

ガラスとセメントの壮大な施設は、草花のない広い庭に建っていた。

一階は、息の詰まるような熱さ、ガラス張りのバール、いつでも誰かを運び出す準備の整った有能な葬儀屋、そしてそれぞれの科に通じるエレベーターで占められていた。

 

その場所で過ごしたその11か月は、私の人生の中のトラウマ的な出来事ではなかった;  「地獄」は、私が少し立ち止まることを余儀なくされた別の場所にほかならなかった。

 

喫茶店で見る小さな神経症

 

子供の頃から私を最も恐れさせていたのは、両親を失うことを想像することではなく、愛する女性を失うことであった。子供に一体何が想像できるだろうか。

 

私のこの人生における使命は、彼女に別れを告げ、どこかに行かせるために彼女に出会い、恋に落ち、結婚を決めることでいいはずがなかった。これらの想像は、それでもやはり何か意味があるに違いなかった。むしろ私は手遅れになる前に彼女を救わなければならなかった。もしくは彼女が病気になるまえに何かを変えようとするべきだったのかもしれない。

 

あの最初の日、私はどうしてこんなことになってしまったのか、わからなかった。サンドラは若かったし、運動もしていたし、健康的な食事をしていたし、野菜や新鮮な果物を食べ、タンパク質は少ししか摂らなかったし、それに煙草も吸わなかったし、私には精神的にも落ち着いて見えた。彼女がそうなってしまう理由がなかった。

 

新しい部屋へ彼女に会いに行く前に、私はバールに逃げ込んだ。そしてそれは、その後の日々の、欠かせない習慣となった。その場所に座って、かろうじて温かいトースト、乾燥したリンゴのケーキ、コーヒーの後味による吐き気を知った。そして、会議から出てきたばかりの二人の医師のリラックスした会話から、抗うつ剤は抗不安剤に次いで最もよく売れていることも知った。

 

またそこには落ち着きのない動きも見られた。

私の一番近くにいた医師は、カップの中でスプーンをかき回し続けていて、それは私に、彼はそれを止める気がないのではないかと思わせた。別の医者は、カウンターの上にこぼれてしまった砂糖を執拗に眺めているように見えた。そして彼らは話し続けていた。一方私は、モーターボートの音と芝生の上を走り回る人々の声を感じていた。そして、何度も振り返ったが、既に湖はもう存在しなかった。

 

愛の空白

 

サンドラの部屋に入った時、あの塊をつくったのは、彼女の影であったとわかった。

 

私が椅子に座る間もなく、彼女は言った。「心配しないで。何でもないわ、大丈夫。」

 

このように、自分たち自身に、私たちは最後の最後まで事実を否定し続けた。

それは二年前のある夜、私たちが横になってくつろいでいる時のことだった。私たちの視線が交差し、私は彼女の眼の中の暗闇に入ってしまい、そして、私の影は、彼女の中に何かを注入してしまった。まさにこの瞬間、彼女の影も私に何かを投影し、その瞬間から私は彼女から離れられなくなった。

私たちはどちらもこの瞬間に何かをつくり出したことに気付いていたが、お互いに何も言うことはなかった。

 

しかし私たちが最終的に来てしまったその場所、その全ての中心は空白だった。

病院の医長は、せめて彼のイギリス製の高級車だけでもその場所から離しておこうと、毎朝病院から数分の駐車場に無料で駐車していた。彼は自分の科の廊下に入ると、気が狂ったように怒鳴っていた。彼はがんこで、その科の中は無気力が充満していた。医師たちは時に名で、時に病名で呼び、最初の日のX線写真とともに毎日サンドラをたらい回しにした。

彼らはすれ違う度に、親しさの度合いによってそのボールを回し、サンドラのことを「あの縦隔洞腫瘍の患者」と呼び、症状について手早く話し、自分なりの解釈をしたり、自分たちの影を彼女に投影したりしていた。
私たちは多少なりとも重要な検査を待って日々を過ごしていた。彼らは、他の科の同僚に全く相談することなく、車の色のような全く関係ないことについて話しながら必要なものを準備し、そして時間を見て、言った。「いずれにしてもこの検査は重要ではありません。重要なのは明日の検査のほうです。」

Scheda editoriale di “Qualcosa che non muore”

“Qualcosa che non muore”
di Lino Berton

Il racconto dello smarrimento
di chi viene accolto in una struttura d’eccellenza

Il racconto del romanzo

Sandra entra in ospedale per un banale controllo e scopre di avere un cancro. Inciampa subito in un ritardo diagnostico di tre settimane per una mancata comunicazione tra colleghi di reparti diversi, ma alla fine, anche se in ritardo, viene sottoposta alla somministrazione della chemio. Cade poi nell’ “interesse distratto”, comune a molti luoghi di cura. E inizia lo sconforto, e l’Inferno.
… sono I fortunati che ce la fanno. Dovete trovare la fortuna dentro la sfortuna”, sono le parole che uno dei medici curanti dice all’io narrante, il marito di Sandra, all’inizio del romanzo.
Dopo qualche mese arriva la recidiva. Quando non sembrano esserci più speranze, Sandra riesce ad arrivare a un farmaco specifico in ultima fase di sperimentazione, che ha già salvato altre persone. Purtroppo però Sandra non rientra regolarmente nel trial già avviato perché, da un lato, chi la stava curando non sapeva del farmaco già designato farmaco orfano dalla Commissione europea, dall’altro, quando c’era ancora tempo per inserirla, si imbatte in un reclutatore che spera di poter ottenere le fiale sottobanco da un amico e fare lui la sperimentazione nel suo reparto. Ma l’amico gli nega le fiale e lo invita a inviargli la paziente.
Sandra a questo punto capisce di essere in balia della sorte ma, alla fine, anche se in ritardo, accede alla somministrazione del farmaco – salvavita – come favore tra amici.
Proprio quando il farmaco stava dando i risultati sperati, succede qualcosa di inaspettato.

L’idea del libro

È il racconto della lotta per non morire, della speranza che non muore anche quando i due protagonisti si ritrovano di fronte alle follie di ospedali e Professori con tutti i loro egocentrismi.

Qualcosa che non muore è ciò che nasce dalla forza di andare oltre il dolore. Un romanzo che vuole fare luce, rendere trasparente un “luogo”, di persone, che nell’immaginario si vuole a tutti i costi sicuro, ma nel quale spesso, chi ci finisce “… si accorge presto di dover rivisitare in fretta la favola che dice stai tranquillo, ti puoi fidare dell’Inferno”.

Qualcosa che non muore descrive lo smarrimento di chi, durante la cura di una malattia importante, cade vittima di errori, distrazioni, noncuranza, e si ritrova a combattere anche contro i muri di gomma.

Le parole chiave

In “Qualcosa che non muore” la parola “dentro” si ripete 56 volte, mentre la parola “Inferno” è presente 18 volte. Queste due parole si incontrano per la prima volta nel capitolo “Qui non devi pensare” a pagina 34. La parola anima è ripetuta 13 volte ed è ripresa nel titolo “Il pensiero dell’anima” in cui il protagonista uccide con tutta la sua anima il folle professore che non usufruisce della legge sullo stato di necessità e si rifiuta di continuare la cura per non andare contro la casa farmaceutica e non avere impicci.
La parola “follia” si ripete 23 volte ed è ripresa nel titolo di tre capitoli “La follia di un piccolo passo”, “La follia dei ricordi” e “La follia delle ninfee”.

I luoghi

La storia fisica si svolge nell’ambiente ospedaliero, dentro la mancanza di informazione che annienta, tra le battaglie dei pazienti per vivere e le lotte dei medici per piccoli poteri, tra interessi e baratti.
La storia metafisica invece si svolge vicino a un verdeggiante lago dove l’anima dell’io narrante libera la mente e osserva altri personaggi mentre giocano fuori dall’Inferno. L’inferno per l’io narrante è un non-luogo, uno stato d’animo in cui l’anima si ritrova chiusa dentro la sua ombra, sola, senza più poter comunicare con altre anime.

L’obiettivo del protagonista è uscire dall’Inferno con Sandra, andare oltre la sua ombra, ma per farlo deve comprendere le dinamiche di quel luogo folle in cui si ritrovano.

I personaggi

La protagonista é la Natura.

Ci sono poi gli amici che aiutano, compagni di viaggio come il falco, il custode dell’ascensore e maga Circe, l’unica dottoressa da cui l’io narrante riesce a ottenere qualche confessione.

Poi ci sono quelli che inconsciamente spingono giù verso il fondo del lago come il chirurgo toracico nel capitolo “La cantilena della vanità”, o come l’ematologa collega di maga Circe “languida malinconica e crudele”.

L’autore

Lino Berton è nato a Mestre, dove vive, scrive, disegna, ricerca spunti sul sistema malato, archivia e lavora. Il Venerdì Santo del 2007 la moglie 38enne muore. Lino Berton ha voluto raccontare l’esperienza vissuta portando alla luce nuovi interrogativi di bioetica.

 

Intima delicatezza e denuncia

Solo una persona sensibile poteva riuscire a mantenere momenti poetici, attraversando l’inferno. Con questo libro, Lino Berton ha regalato la sua intima delicatezza.

Consegnarsi in questo modo è prova di generosità, unita alla “denuncia” del calvario che molti attraversano, tra lo scorrere di vite parallele, che scorrono e, talvolta, non vengono sfiorate dal dolore al quale assistono, per professione.

Grazie infinite a Lino Berton

 GERMANA DANELUZZI