Thursday, February 9, 2012

"If This is a Man" by Primo Levi


     You who live safe
     In your warm houses,
     You who find, returning in the evening,
     Hot food and friendly faces:

     Consider if this is a man
     Who works in the mud,
     Who does not know peace,
     Who fights for a scrap of bread,
     Who dies because of a yes or a no.
     Consider if this is a woman
     Without hair and without name,
     With no more strength to remember,
     Her eyes empty and her womb cold
     Like a frog in winter.

     Meditate that this came about:
     I command these words to you.
     Carve them in your hearts
     At home, in the street,
     Going to bed, rising;
     Repeat them to your children.

     Or may your house fall apart,
     May illness impede you,
     May your children turn their faces from you.
Enhanced by Zemanta

"A Misplaced Homecoming"

As Jack Delaney walked the five minutes to his ex wives house, he felt the beginnings of a rain shower. He approached the door, knocked, and felt the old familiar tightening in his chest.

She came to the door. "You know you don't need to knock, you can just come in." she said.

"That's OK" he replied, "I don't like to just walk in, you know, unannounced."

He took his shoes off as he stepped in and handed her the bag off oranges he had picked earlier that morning. "Here, a gift" he said as he handed them to her. She took them and said thanks.

He said hi to the boy who was playing with Lego bricks on the floor. His son was concentrating hard on putting together what looked like some kind of space ship and hadn't noticed him enter.

He went over and kissed him on the head, then asked if her parents had got away OK.

"Yeah, no problems. They left at two on the dot as usual. You know what dad's like."

He replied with a weak smile, but didn't say anything.

"Do you want a tea"? she asked."No. I just came to give you the oranges and say goodnight, but, thanks anyway".

He sat down on the floor beside the boy and watched him stick the finishing pieces onto the space ship.

"Looks great kiddo", "Thanks", the boy replied without looking up.
He stood up and watched her as she worked in the tiny kitchen, making dinner.


He had been in this same house only the day before. He knew she would be out as it was a Saturday. He had a key and would come over and do odd jobs for her occasionally, when she was at work and the boy was at school.

Walking around the empty house his head was filled with images from the past, when they had lived here as a family. He had walked up the stairs to her bedroom. He sat on the bed and remembered vividly for a moment the day they had bought it. How different things had been then. A different time, different city, different lives. He touched the pillow where she slept and lay down. He felt tired, old, empty. Getting up, he saw a picture he had made for her out of magazine clippings when their son had been born. He picked it up and rubbed the dust of the frame and put it back. Then he went down stairs and left, locking the door behind him and putting the bottom bolt in place so she wouldn't know he had been there.

As he got up she stopped what she was doing. "Have you eaten today?" she asked.

"Sorry?" he replied, pretending he hadn't heard her.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"No, I better go, I've got stuff to do".

He went to say goodbye to the boy who was now sitting at the dining table looking at a toy catalog, but stopped and stood for a moment.

He turned back and looked at her. She was bent over trying to find something in one of the cupboards.

"Can you believe we were once in Love with each other?" he said.

She looked at him and he saw a slight nervous smile appear around her mouth. She didn't say anything. He continued, feeling his breath quickening, "I mean, can you believe how we couldn't bear to be apart, to be away from each other, how much in love we were"?
She looked away. "What is it? Do you need to talk?" she asked.

They looked at each other for a brief moment. He felt his stomach drop and he purposely exhaled and took a sharp breath. "No, no I don't want to talk. What is there to talk About?" She stood in silence looking at him.

He turned to the boy and said goodnight, asked him for a kiss, put on his shoes and went to leave. He heard her say something as he opened the door, but he wasn't listening and didn't reply. He closed the door lightly and stepped out onto the path that led to the street.

By now the rain was coming down heavy. He wrapped his coat around him, noticing the bottom button was missing, and started walking home.

By anthony MONAGHAN