80thought as well, and there isl.orli. P.rofessor Bianchi hasinventecl a new astronomicals.vstem that has completehsriper:sededthe s)-stem of{l a Uleo. "Signor Hollencler approveclunresen-edly:"You have done weil indeed,plofessol. 'Your new s.vstenrivill bi: absurd because all thatone constructs is absurd; destructionalone is logical; butyoru svstem represents a rebellionand to rebel in any Iie1c1,in any form, is useful. B"vclcmonstrating the inconsistencvof one svstem, one clemonstratesthe ineonsistencv ofall systems, \Ve enter oncemore in chaos and {incl again areasorl for existing.t'Slata Hollender begged0lir-iero to erplain this s.r'sternto her. It cor,cernecl a revohitionand. revolutions exertecl afascination on the avid spiritof the charmirig Russian.Obstinate, ztll concentration,the less she understooci themore she was determined inlier rvish to urrderstand. "Thesun is supported b1- a mass ofgaseous vapours, yon sa1.. ThisI can belie\-e. Yes, I grant .r.outhat rnuch. Neveltheless, youmust clemonstrate it fol rne. "The professor demoristratccl,the sign,ora,,-or signo rina,-offerecl objections and so, durirgthe promenacles, theywalkeci alwa--vs apart from theothcls, in the reunions the;tsat aliravs together.Every da." Aura Liecamewhiter and more convulsed."But m-r' daughter, you arertining r.ourself, ):ou aremaking ;.onrself a martvr, "said irer mother, kissing rluraon hel great e-r.es brilliant withexcitement. "Do not go againto Palianza; we shall not invitethem any more to ourvilla. Why, your hancls areburning; you have a steadyte\.er'.''Aura pressed herself tremblingclose to her mother, herATLANTICA, AUGUST_SEPT,EXIB}1R, 1931head on her mother's shoulder;sire relaxed,; then, liber:atingherself, she ran to the telephoneto invite them, eyeryone. At least she could x'atchthem and be sure that Slataancl Oliviero dicl not remainalone,--since for Vlaclimirothe libert--v of his wife or sister,as the case might be, was athing sacred ancl inviol:rble.1-\NE er.ening in Septcmber\-/ ttie moon ieaneil from thcsk1' cletachecl, brilliant. fu1l.ancl near it shone the planet\'-enLrs.The usual guests in the \-illaOdasio were clining in the greatsal,on opening on the garclen;the figures of the fountain,cautious, fearful, were moving,\vere speaking amollg' themseh'esr-rncler tlte enchantmentof that lnnar night. Tlemorspassecl or.'er the ra\res of silr.erin the l.lroacl fountain howl anrlthe reflected figr,rres likervisequivered. The branches whisperedto one another of lor.eand of nests, and the figlLrestook up the echo of those whispers,making of them tenuouswords to communicate theirthoughts among themselr..es.The rvhite moon infused intothose rvhite boilies a sllave nor'-taigic clesire for life I furtivemovements dartecl throughtheir limbs,-oYer theil facesflitted flashes of smiles anclglanccs. fn the center ihe baby,nude, on hands and knees, innocent,leaned over the x,-ater'sbrink in search of . . . who cantell? . . . ; the mother offeredher bleast to the rounded.mouth of the avid infant; theaclolescent turnecl in cluestionto the olt-1 woman laden withcxperience, rvho knew, however,nothing certain to answer; theyoung gir1, clasping the neckof her beloved, clrank joy fromhis lips and eyes as from adouble source of happiness;the maiden and the two scientistsrvere immersed in theirown purity; the two ascetics,completel;' absorbecl withinthemselves, traveled afar andsolitary in their search for theunattair'able; the fatalist remainedimpassive ancl, immobile,fixing destin.v, heobliged destiny to r:emain immobile;the ignorarnus, wisestancl happiest of all, smilecl)reatifically at life which returnedhis smile, beatific.Certain of l'hat she whs goingto fincl, since Slata andOliviero hacl clescencleil in thegarclen after having sippecltheir coffee, Aula wrapped herselfin a great scarf of lace ancl,walking on the soft grass borcleringiJre paths in order tocleaclen the souncl of her footsteps,pressing her hand on herhealt to muIIle its r.iolent beating,sLe circlecl behincl thefountain ancl rernained stanclingin the bushes. She wanteclto overLear, she wantecl at lastto know what tone the wordsof those tn'o might hal.e rvhenthey were alone. But alas ! insteaclof listening to theirrvorcls she was obligerl to listento their silence, which there inthat night of enchantment withthose figures of clream, spokeand spoke again, exhaling sighsof sweetrress ancl pleas of snppiication.'f-HE perfunte,l srrtokp of tjreI cigalettes, whiclL Oliviploand Siata helcl lighted, closeclthem x'ithin a cloriii and toAura, alone, abanclonecl, rigid,cold through ancl throug'h,clasped in her scarf, that silence,that smoke, that perfume,seemecl a celestial beatituclefrom which she, unjustl-1' conclemneclfor some unknorvnreason, hail to remain fotel-erexclurled."It must be late,t'saidSlata, rising wearil;'."Perhaps so, I have noidea, t t Olir.'iero answered andthey s'ent away slowly, noteYen their elbows touching.But for Aura it was as thoughthe-1.126 embracecl, and she felt
such despair and suffering thather breath failed her. Shewent to sit rvhere thev had beensitting a moment before andunderstood for the first timewhat it was that made up themystery of life: it was to bealive anil at the same time tofeel herself dead; to know herselfto be free, and to feel herselfslave; to know herself richand to feel herself poor witha poverty beyond hope of relief; to see the lights of herorvn home gleam and to feelherself iost among the terrorsof a wild forest; to contort inspasm, bound, held fast in thelinks of an iron chain an
- Page 1 and 2: NTI LTtrB ITALIAiT MOITTIILY BEYIEW
- Page 3 and 4: tWHAT OTHtrRS THII\K OFOOATLAI\TTCA
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- Page 7 and 8: ATT,ANTITAThe Italian Monthly Revie
- Page 9 and 10: The Turning T;de oflmmigrationBy Do
- Page 11 and 12: HrIIIochs oItalian ArtLeonardo da V
- Page 13 and 14: Xtrlrl* tt-nrleucr- of that periorl
- Page 15 and 16: From Mackinaw, Father.\fazzuchelli
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- Page 25 and 26: mi-::s ll'oln the grouncl, irr- , :
- Page 27 and 28: he ltalian Pressr . - :ransferring
- Page 29 and 30: SELtrCTIONS FROM THE ITALIANPRESS 7
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- Page 33: she was lost in dream. Amongthe tre
- Page 37 and 38: A Short StoryJim, the LoonBy Rosa Z
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- Page 43 and 44: TOPICS OF THE NIONTH89]. it recent
- Page 45 and 46: The ltalians in the l,lnited Stares
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