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Versione italiana
English Version
IL NOSTRO OSPITE D'ONORE: DAVID WATMOUGH
di Vittorio Curtoni
David Watmough e' nato a Londra nel 1926. Completati gli
studi presso la London University, ha vissuto dapprima in
Francia, poi negli Stati Uniti, e nel 1960 e' approdato a
Vancouver. Dal 1969 e' cittadino canadese. La sua intensa
attivita' letteraria si e' sinora concretizzata in
diciassette libri: romanzi, racconti, persino un saggio di
teologia ("A Church Renascent", 1951). Il suo ultimo volume
e' "Hunting With Diana", appena apparso in Canada, che
uscira' negli Stati Uniti in autunno. Il racconto che
presentiamo su questo numero di DADA, "Just Call Me
Theresa", e' tratto da questa antologia. E' stato
collaboratore di svariate riviste, ha scritto per la
televisione; ha vinto numerosi premi ed e' presente in tutte
le piu' importanti antologie di narrativa canadese. Tra i
suoi romanzi principali ricordiamo "No More Into the Garden"
(1978), "Thy Mother's Glass" (1992), "The Time of the
Kingfishers" (1994).
In dieci dei suoi libri compare il suo protagonista fisso,
Davey Bryant, del quale David ha tracciato l'intera
esistenza dall'infanzia alla mezza eta'. Della propria
narrativa dice: "La mia opera contiene spesso un soffio di
perversione, ma penso che se si e' vigorosamente sinceri, se
si lavora sodo per offrire una lingua ricca e pregnante, e'
possibile catturare l'attenzione anche di chi abbia gusti
completamente diversi". Per uno di quegli inspiegabili
errori della nostra editoria, David Watmough non e' mai
stato tradotto in italiano. Speriamo che DADA gli porti
fortuna nel Bel Paese...
OUR GUEST OF HONOUR: DAVID WATMOUGH
by Vittorio Curtoni
David Watmough was born in London in 1926. After graduating
at London University, he has lived in France, then in the
USA, and in 1960 he settled in Vancouver. He became a
Canadian citizen in 1969. His intense literary activity has
taken shape in seventeen books: novels, stories, even an
essay on theology ("A Church Renascent", 1951). His latest
book is a collection of stories, "Hunting With Diana", just
published in Canada and to appear in the USA next fall. The
story we present in this issue of DADA, "Just Call Me
Theresa", is from this collection. He wrote for various
magazines and for television; he has won numerous awards and
is featured in the most important collections of Canadian
literature. Among his principal novels are "No More Into
the Garden" (1978), "Thy Mother's Glass" (1992), "The Time
of the Kingfishers" (1994).
In ten of his books is featured his ongoing protagonist,
Davey Bryant. David has told the whole life of Bryant from
childood to late middle age. Of his writing he says: "My
own work often has a breath of perversity lurking about it
but I find if one is vigorously candid, works hard at
providing rich and informing language, it is possible to
capture and hold the attention of those of quite different
tastes from one's own". Thanks to one of those inexplicable
mistakes of the Italian publishing industry, David Watmough
has never been translated into Italian. We surely hope that
DADA will bring him good luck in the Bel Paese...
JUST CALL ME "THERESA"
by David Watmough
God knows why I decided that night to pretend on the
Internet I was a woman. It wasn't as if I were into drag,
cross-dressing, or any of those things..So you can see that
this sudden decision to change sexual identity on the
Internet was an idiosyncratic one to put it mildly. But the
results of that decision were even more strange - as I was
to shortly find out.I had been talking with a very dull
Swede from Lund whose desire to learn English torpedoed all
attempts at general conversation. So that when blithely
asking about the breeding habits of feral reindeer in
Lapland (a topic on which I was woefully ignorant) the
response was how did one use the subjunctive in English? Or
in seeking information on whether gay life flourished in
Stockholm, was asked what ambidextrous meant.At first in
mild boredom I asked him the Swedish for "the missionary
position" but when that drew a blank asked him what was the
status of single women like myself in Sweden. That at least
brought relief from his efforts at linguistic
self-improvement on the screen before me.It also cranked him
up again (he'd already revealed HIS gender) and made him
change his tack. We immediately departed the world of
grammar and syntax to enter one that surpassed divisions of
language and was common to the whole human race."You are
here on the Internets so often? Looking around yes?""Very
often," I said, wishing I could make my words husky on this
harsh little screen.
"It is how I spend much of my time." As they are wont,
snippets from movies swirled about my mind - rather like the
screen-saver images which we computer folk have come to
employ. If I couldn't always remember my heroine's lines I
was only too pleased to extemporize. It was this device I
drew upon now with my Swede."I am looking for the right kind
of man. So much of life is a search." That was a highly
garbled version of something poorly remembered from over
sixty years ago: Elisabeth Bergner`s starring performance as
a beautiful young mother with an illegitimate baby - which
had won my nine year-old heart and lingers there to this
day. I decided to extemporize much further as I eased into
my role. The only pity was that the monitor didn't allow me
to reveal my pretty Austrian accent."I am already now
nineteen and my father still will not allow me to go ashore
from this island. He is not a cruel man but he is so afraid
of my meeting men that I have to mope here in the
candlelight and imagine my own Flying Dutchman! It's only
because he sees me as so much more beautiful than I am.
Just because I am a brunette and have inherited my mother's
violet eyes.. Papa calls me his "Elizabeth Taylor" -
foolish man! But I am so bored here as I look across at the
mainland just a few miles a mile away. I have only the
Internet to take me away.
I wonder if Prince Charming comes down the Electronic
Highway in these modern times?"God, those Swedes are a
prosaic lot! "You sit in candlelight? Does your computer
run on the batteries, then? That is most unusual, no?"I
thought the bastard's English had suddenly leaped a few
notches. "We have our own power plant here on the island.
Then Papa is very rich. The locals call him Croesus. And
that's not just because there's a town near here called
Sardis."The allusion was lost on my dumb Swede. But I guess
the musk of my words was still operating! "You are a
virgin, then? And I do not know your name, young lady.
Mine is Sven. Sven Olaffson at your service.""Theresa." I
decided to give up my favorite "Ver is my babee?" line of
Miss Bergner's and encourage him. "And Theresa has only
ever dreamed of men. There are none here on the island.""
You say none? That is so hard to believe, Theresa?"
I could only imagine the doubt trembling his words but
decided to act upon the supposition - and retract somewhat.
"None that my father might fear. They are all so old - or
so young" I added, hoping that sounded suitably enigmatic.He
abruptly changed tack. " What are you looking for in a man,
Theresa? Tell me your visions of what the ideals man should
be."I sat up, straightened my shoulders hunched over my
keyboard - and embarked on a congenial journey. "I would
prefer someone a little older than me - say in his
mid-twenties, or even a bit more. I want a man who smiles
gently and has lots of patience with a girl who doesn't know
very much but is completely willing to learn. Such a man
should also have a practical side and know how to fix
things. If he can handle a boat and understands the sea all
the better. But that is very important in these parts as
you can imagine."As I drew breath for a second bout of
imaginative steam his words started to hop across the lower
part of my screen. "It is coincidences but I possess many
of these things you mention, Theresa. I cannot claim the
encyclopedic nautical knowledge but I can make sail a small
sail boat and often do near Lund in the seas out of Malmo.
I am practical man even if I am University teacher."So
that's what the guy did. I wondered how old he was. He
didn't keep me waiting for long."I shall soon be moving to
Uppsala.
That is north of Stockholm? I will be in the School of
Theology at the University - as I am here. I will also be
assistant pastor in the parish so I will be a busy man you
will understands? After all this studying I will now start
the looking round for - what is the English for? A
helpmate? I shall be looking for a wife, Theresa. I am
also very moderns and come on this program of the computer
looking for right persons as well as improving my English.
It is important you see Theresa, that she is moderns too. I
am of the Swedish Lutheran Church but we are of the new
generation. We are not any more as our Ingmar Bergman put
in such motion picture as Winter Light. That was indeed the
past. Those days are truly over for the pastors, for the
Church, for Sweden."I forgot my assumed role. "Even so, I
just loved The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries. Oh yes,
The Virgin Spring and that weird one - The Silence."That
comment brought just that - silence! At least momentarily.
"You know our Bergman well. That is remarkable for a young
girl on an island. So many Bergman films. So many
remembered titles!"I was getting testy. "I said I was
nineteen, Sven. Not nine! And I have been a movie buff
since childhood. We have a super Memorex video player and
Dad gets me several videos a week to watch. We islanders
are not ignorant even if our social lives aren't exactly
hectic."It occurred to me that I probably wasn't sounding
exactly like a nineteen year old virgin. But what the heck
- his English wasn't all that hot, either!"I did not mean to
disturb your integrity, Theresa. It was that I was
impressed by your encyclopedia knowledge of our Swedish film
maker. There are not so many peoples with such encyclopedia
knowledge. Would you have photographs of you and do you use
the fax?
"I had and I didn't. I promised to send him a snap by
regular mail."I would love to show you Sweden if you to take
the vacation here. It is a beautiful land full of lakes and
seas. I have always thoughted that Canada was much like
this countries. If you was to think of vacation here I
would be sincerely delighted to be of assistance. Indeed my
family would be only too happily to assist your package with
the air fairs. I am full of loneliness at these times and
it is this beautiful summer months that I must make the big
decisions for life as I make my move to Uppsala."This was
getting far too heavy. - if one forgot the fractured
English. Gritting teeth I returned to my male gender. " I
have been deceiving you I'm afraid. I am a man and not a
young girl. I am sorry if I have strung you along. That
is, given you a false impression. The Internet system
permits rather nasty jokes and I am truly sorry if my
certainly misplaced sense of humor has embarrassed you. And
if I'm being quite honest with you now, I must also add that
I am a gay man and that is what I thought you were too when
we began this. It is an assumption I have made too often
when having this kind of Internet chat. Though chat is
rather a silly word in this context, isn't it? It is
sometimes a real peeling off of skins."I awaited his reply
with some trepidation as I felt my pulse quicken from the
effort of confession. But I needn't have worried. He was
long gone I suspect before I finished that last painful
spiel.Teiresias in Greek myth was a blind Theban seer who
may have lost his sight by observing serpents coupling and
killing one of them with a stick. As direct result he is
purported to have changed into a woman - and later, by
committing an identical act, to have changed back to a man
again. Because of this experience Zeus consulted him on the
conundrum: whether a man or woman derives most pleasure from
the act of love.