ONE AFTERNOON, when we were out for a walk, Cesare called. He is a handsome man, tall, blond, intelligent and ambiguous. He never wants to bring anything to a conclusion. When an idea takes concrete form, he becomes elusive. One of his favourite expressions is:
“I’ve got a whole lot of new things to tell you, interesting stuff. Whenever the time is right, we can talk things over at our leisure.”
Cesare sometimes declares that he wants a certain job and as soon as someone makes the effort to get it for him, he says that he’s not interested in the slightest and, to the contrary, he would rather do without it. His worldview and his life do not involve plans. Cesare is also an extraordinary collector of objects and friends. Of himself he always says: “I who am not”. For Cesare things should never have a purpose. Death is a subject that doesn’t scare him, it’s as if it didn’t concern him. His chosen role is always to be argumentative and disagreeable and he takes an excessive interest in the most unpredictable things, but then he gets bored and his attention wanders. For example, as soon as he buys an apartment somewhere, that place immediately bores him. In short, he is a spoilt man, but certainly one with no lack of charm and intelligence.
Cesare is a great friend of Rossa’s, and he has always admired her. Perhaps he is in love with her; he trusts her, and wishes her well. In her he sees a blend of two qualities he considers essential—beauty and intelligence. He, who is usually so intolerant of women, who strike him as obstacles between him and freedom, smiles when he talks about Rossa. And it was he who told me one day:
“Giacomo, have you ever had an affair with Rossa? You should, she’s a really beautiful woman.”
I shall always be grateful to him for that wise and generous advice.
“Where are you?”
“In Paris.”
“Why don’t you come to Capri? I’m staying at Dino’s, it’s simply wonderful!”
I thought that on Capri I might put my thoughts in order and start to write.