I will watch you all, I will dream with the flight of your skirts and laugh with your stories marked by sensuality and wit. I will be in the middle of nowhere reading the literature of the stars and I will smoke through a virgin brush, while I see how Eros lands in the stories. That longing and impulse that appears and evolves until it manifests itself, fireworks destined to explode with the touch of flesh.
Decameron… “ten” and “day”, you can’t point it out more clearly. Ten days in which ten young people tell, in all, ten tales. It’s almost like a genesis, my dear. Only ten young people flee from desolation and plague, only they reconstruct humanity through stories, recreate what was and what is man.
But that is not the only thing that the Decameron gives us, Charlotte. We cannot ignore the wit of the characters in the story. I am sure that you would be amazed and that, more than once, you would laugh out loud as young people did at the end of a story. I invite you to visit stories like the one about Quiquibío, Currado’s cook, who served him a crane without a thigh. Currado, angry, takes him with him to see the cranes in nature and to show him that they had two legs, he shouts “ox, ox” to make them fly away. Quiquibío is saved from punishment by his quick and witty response: the crane from yesterday’s dinner did not have two legs because he did not say “ox, ox”. Or the story of Micer Cepparello who with a false confession deceives a friar and when he dies, even though he was an evil man, he is reputed a saint and called San Ciappelletto. Charlotte, I promise you and all those who are reading me, that the laughter and wit aroused by the stories will invade you in equal parts, without knowing very well how Boccaccio has worked such magic.
It would be unforgivable not to know how to see Boccaccio’s treasures; it would be like not knowing how to appreciate the wings of swallows among the clouds. How many women thanked him for making them the center of his works. All of them inhabit every word of the Decameron, they raise their flag to accompany Boccaccio’s denunciation. He manages to sit beside them and enter into the female psychology, previously always forgotten and vituperated, and vehemently exposes their family and social situation. Oh, Charlotte, I suppose you will like this man, since you share the same concerns and the same denunciation. It is not trivial the ugliness of the beauties, the runes written on the fingertips of all dreamers. And the dreamers? And those who want to flee from the earthly to jump into another fiction? They ceased to be alone and were able to enter a heaven where literature rocked them on its lap. All women toast with a glass to all the leisure full of reason that they drink with each exhalation.