I did not say anything when I asked something. I was silent, I never trusted those who make too many questions. I am old, this is true, but that does not mean it is stupid: I understand exactly what they wanted to know, maybe something was enough to nod, pretending to be above certain mechanisms. The rest, all ciò che mancava dei miei accenni, delle parole che avrebbero voluto sentir dire, ce lo avrebbero messo loro, con grande piacere. Ma io immaginavo già tutto questo e sono rimasto indietro di un passo: ho detto il mio nome, a testa alta, ho detto ciò che sapevo, cose che anche gli altri sapevano, poi ho detto basta, non so niente di altro e non dirò mai qui spontaneamente quello che penso delle vostre congetture, inutile insistere.
Non l’hanno presa benissimo, avrebbero probabilmente avuto bisogno di qualcuno tra i loro avversari che facesse retromarcia sulle convinzioni più note, ma non ero io il loro uomo, e così hanno parlato a voce bassa tra loro, parevano piuttosto nervosi, then I left.
difficult to understand the mechanism that are giving answers: it is likely to mount fabricated information, but they are credible so as to appear as absolutely true. But to be credible so someone has to stand there and support these claims, someone with a past crystal clear as possible, so as to be believed by force, without a doubt, and I'm sure they'll find, or maybe someone will pay for it embodies the best possible .
What is this plastic world, I thought, everything is more and more fake, the information is shaped so as to serve to those who pay more, everyone knows it, yet there are still those who, for fatigue, for simplicity, to thirst for something different, is willing to believe anything, so as to give full credit to what you are told every day.
I went to those offices filled with electric lights and tinted windows that already seemed to have gained some victory: I took the bus, I returned to my house, I seemed to feel good, at peace with my conscience. Then slowly I thought those questions were never intended, it was not to answer it or not. I started to have doubts, then I turned on the television. When I started my interview, I immediately realized that questions had changed: my answers appear ambiguous, and the parties that could not be readily used were cut. My ironic laugh as the cameras had turned into a motion of appreciation of their positions, my words had been crushed, I was of them, there could hardly be doubted.
I turned off the TV, I thought back to war, fascism, to my being partisan. Everything has become dirty, I thought, needless to blame: maybe my thoughts and memories are just mine. Useless to think of sharing with those who want only riding them, I should not just accept such an interview. I was wrong, we should shout it my mistake, but non ho ormai più la voce che me lo permetta.
Bruno Magnolfi