The Temptation to Be Happy

by Lorenzo Marone

  The doctor with a mask over his mouth pats my arm and then asks, ‘Signor Annunziata, is everything all right?’

  You’re about to open me up like a watermelon, I don’t know if I’m going to survive the operation, and you ask me if everything’s all right? I nod to keep from cursing, as I feel someone fiddling about with a needle in my vein, then I become aware of the cold metal on the skin of my ankles and wrists. The smell of alcohol is everywhere, and I don’t like the smell of alcohol.

  But I do like the smell of lemon that sticks to your fingers, and the smell of dark earth that slips beneath your fingernails. I like the smell of pines and the aroma of freshly washed laundry. I like the rattle of hail on windowpanes and the texture of volcanic rock. I like the gradually fading smell of coffee and the smell of melting chocolate that arrives a little later. I like wooden beams in a ceiling, breadcrumbs and objects that no one uses any more. I like meeting the eye of a woman I don’t know. I like the secure movements of a pizza-maker, hugs of elation, the hand of an infant reaching into the air. I like ivy climbing over the facade of a building. I like fish nibbling at bread on the surface of the water and darting away. I like people reading at bus stops. I like people who don’t plan too much and are good at being on their own. I like cooking on a veranda. I like the smell of sweat after a long run. I like people who always see the glass as half full. I like white hair and the wooden scales that greengrocers used to use. I like houses that welcome you with the smell of cooking. I like the smack of lips on skin. I like those who love first.

  Some lights go out. The doctor leans over my face and, in a reassuring voice, says, ‘Signor Annunziata, we’re going to make you sleep now. You will wake up in your room when we’ve finished. Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine!’

  I don’t even open my eyes. I will wake up in my room. Or I won’t. Subtle difference.

  I like the light in the sky when the sun has gone down. I like the grass that defeats the tarmac. I like the daft smile of a clown. I like people who don’t bear grudges. I like an untidy old bookshop. I like the moment before the first kiss. I like looking at the buildings in an unknown city. I like the dignity of a son carrying his old mother behind the hearse. I like women who like food. I like reading a book in the shade. I like geckos who study the horizon from their spot beside a lamp. I like those with the strength to believe in something with all their heart. I like swallows’ nests. I like people who are still astonished by the stars. I like the smell of walls and glowing coals that welcome the loves of a single summer. I like the hum of a fan in the background. I like imagining the face of a woman seen from behind. I like bales of hay in the fields beside the road. I like people who know how to ask for forgiveness. I like people who haven’t yet worked out how to find their way in the world. I like people who know how to ask. I like my children’s smiles.

  I like people who know how to love one another.

  Nothing else comes to mind – perhaps the anaesthetic has already entered my bloodstream? Better to sleep – I’ll resume the list later.

  Oh, wait, I’ve got one last I like.

  I like people who fight every day to be happy.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank some people.

  First of all my wife Flavia, who was there when I was struggling to find my way and who is still there now. Still smiling.

  Then I would like to thank Silvia Meucci, my agent and friend, the first to notice me, to hold out her hand and lead me here. The fact that this book exists is to a large extent down to her.

  Thanks to my editor at Longanesi, Stefano Mauri, who has not missed an opportunity to speak well of me and Cesare.

  My thanks to Giuseppe Strazzeri, the publishing director, one of those people who has the ability to make you feel at ease. The enthusiasm and commitment that he has given to Cesare have been his lifeblood.

  Thanks to Guglielmo Cutolo: apart from being a great editor, in many respects he speaks my language. His precious work improved the novel.

  Heartfelt thanks, last of all, to the whole Longanesi family, which welcomed me with solicitude, affection and friendship, making me feel part of the household.

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  A Oneworld Book

  First published in North America, Great Britain and Australia

  by Oneworld Publications, 2017

  This ebook published by Oneworld Publications, 2017

  Originally published in Italian as La Tentazione di Essere Felici

  by Longanesi, 2015

  Copyright © Lorenzo Marone, 2015

  English translation copyright © Shaun Whiteside, 2017

  Published & translated by arrangement with Meucci Agency – Milan

  The moral right of Lorenzo Marone to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved

  Copyr
ight under Berne Convention

  A CIP record for this title is available from the British Library

  Trade paperback ISBN 978-1-78607-288-7

  Hardback ISBN 978-1-78607-187-3

  eBook ISBN 978-1-78607-188-0

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