Eco: Foucalt's Pendulum eco foucault (highly illogical behavior txt) 📖

"As head of the taxoffice, Uncle Carlo was a local bigwig, and as a mutilated veteranand cavalier of the Crown of Italy, he was naturally on the side ofthe government, which happened to be the Fascist dictatorship. WasUncle Carlo a Fascist?

"In those days, Fascismhad given veterans status, had rewarded them with decorations andpromotions; so let's say Uncle Carlo was moderately Fascist.Fascist enough to earn the hatred of Adeline Canepa, who wasardently anti-Fascist, for obvious reasons. Canepa had to go toUncle Carlo every year to make his income declaration. He wouldarrive in the office with a bold expression of complicity, havingtried to corrupt Aunt Caterina with a few dozen eggs. And he wouldfind himself up against Uncle Carlo, who, being a hero, was notonly incorruptible, but also knew better than anyone how muchCanepa had stolen from him in the course of the year, and whowouldn't forgive him one cent. Adeline Canepa, considering himselfa victim of the dictatorship, began spreading slanderous rumorsabout Uncle Carlo. One lived on the ground floor, the other on thefloor above; they met every morning and night, but no longerexchanged greetings. Communication was maintained through AuntCaterina and, after our arrival, through my mother¡Xto whom AdelineCanepa expressed much sympathy and understanding, since she was thesister-in-law of a monster. My uncle, in his gray double-breastedsuit and bowler, would come home every evening at six with his copyof La Stampa still to be read. He walked erect, like an Alpinesoldier, his gray eye on the peak to be stormed. He passed byAdelino Canepa, who at that hour was enjoying the cool air on abench in the garden, and it was as if my uncle did not see him.Then he would encounter Si-gnora Canepa at the downstairs door andceremoniously doff his hat. And so it went, every evening, yearafter year."

It was eight o'clock;Lorenza wasn't coming, as she had promised. Belbo was on his fifthmartini.

"Then came 1943. Onemorning Uncle Carlo came into our room, waked me with a kiss, andsaid, ¡¥My boy, you want to hear the biggest news of the year?They've kicked out Mussolini.' I never figured out whether or notUncle Carlo suffered over it. He was a citizen of total integrityand a servant of the state. If he did suffer, he said nothing aboutit, and he went on running the tax office for the Badogliogovernment. Then came September 8, and the area in which we livedfell under the control of the Fascists' Social Republic, and UncleCarlo again adjusted. He collected taxes for the SocialRepublic.

"Adeline Canepa,meanwhile, boasted of his contacts with the partisan groups formingin the mountains, and he promised vengeance, the making ofexamples. We kids didn't yet know who the partisans were. Therewere great tales about them, but so far nobody had seen them. Therewas talk about a Badoglian leader known as Mongo¡Xa nickname,naturally, as was the custom then; many said he had taken it fromFlash Gordon. Mongo was a former Carabinieri sergeant major who hadlost a leg in the first fighting against the Fascists and the SSand now commanded all the brigades in the hills around***.

"And then came thedisaster: one day the partisans showed up in town. They haddescended from the hills, they were running wild in the streets,still without uniforms, just blue kerchiefs, and firing rounds intothe air to make their presence known. The news spread; all thepeople locked themselves in their houses. It wasn't yet clear whatsort of men these partisans were. Aunt Caterina was only mildlyconcerned: after all, those partisans were friends of AdelineCanepa, or at least Adelino Canepa claimed to be a friend oftheirs, so they wouldn't do anything bad to Uncle, would they? Theywould. We were informed that around eleven o'clock a squad ofpartisans with automatic rifles aimed had entered the tax office,arrested Uncle Carlo, and carried him off, destination unknown.Aunt Caterina lay down on her bed, and whitish foam began todribble from her lips. She declared that Uncle Carlo would bekilled. A blow with a rifle butt would-be enough: with the metalplate in his head, he would die on the spot.

"Drawn by my aunt'smoans, Adelino Canepa arrived with his wife and children. My auntcried that he was a Judas, that he had reported Uncle to thepartisans because Uncle collected taxes for the Social Republic.Adelino Canepa swore by everything sacred that this was not true,but obviously he felt responsible, because he had talked too muchin town. My aunt sent him away. Adelino Canepa wept, appealed to mymother, reminded her of all the times he had sold her a rabbit or achicken at a ridiculously low price, but my mother maintained adignified silence, Aunt Caterina continued to dribble whitish foam,I cried. Finally, after two hours of agony, we heard shouts, andUncle Carlo appeared on a bicycle, steering it with his one arm andlooking as if he were returning from a picnic. Seeing a disturbancein the garden, he asked what had happened. Uncle hated dramas, likeeveryone in our parts. He went upstairs, approached the bed of painof Aunt Caterina, who was still kicking her scrawny legs, andinquired why she was so agitated."

"What hadhappened?"

"What had happened wasthis. Mongo's partisans, probably hearing some of Adelino Canepa'smutterings, had identified Uncle Carlo as one of the localrepresentatives of the regime, so they arrested him to teach thewhole town a lesson. He was taken outside the town in a truck andfound himself before Mongo. Mongo, his war medals shining, stoodwith a gun in his right hand and his left holding a crutch. UncleCarlo¡Xbut I really don't think he was being clever; I think it wasinstinct, or the ritual of chivalry¡Xsnapped to attention,introduced himself: Major Carlo Covasso, Alpine Division, disabledveteran, silver medal. And Mongo also snapped to attention andintroduced himself: Sergeant Major Rebaudengo, Royal Carabineers,commander of the Badoglian brigade Bettino Ricasoli, bronze medal.¡¥Where?' Uncle Carlo asked. And Mongo, impressed, said: ¡¥Pordoi,Major, hill 327."By God,' said Uncle Carlo, ¡¥I was at hill 328,third regiment, Sasso di Stria!' The battle of the solstice? Battleof the solstice it was. And the cannon on Five-Finger Mountain?Dammit