The Late Mattia Pascal

This presents an interesting contrast with 'Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself', which I perused not long ago. In Sheppard Lee, a man escapes debts and a generally dissatisfactory, purposeless life through magic. That is, upon dying in an accident, he discovers he can magically inhabit the body of another person whose 'owner' has just passed away. However, he assumes the character and life circumstances of the deceased man, and in time, for each successive body he adapts to, it becomes unbearable.

Mattia Pascal, on the other hand, doesn't die but is set free when his wife and his shrewish mother-in-law misidentify someone else's dead body as his. Mattia had run away a few days prior and views the misidentification as a godsend. Pascal too flees debts as well as a wretched home life. But he suddenly discovers equal misery in having no identity whatsoever in his undead state. Both he and Sheppard Lee shunned any form of serious education or training, and they lack the inner resources to support them when adversity and boredom strike. Both have lost their inherited lands to devious business managers, and thus, as gentlemen, have no means to earn a living.

Pirandello delves into authenticity, posing the question of how much of our identity hinges on external definitions such as heritage, relationships, position, and law. While not an innovative subject for a novel nowadays, in 1904 this must have been a rather unusual work. Mattia attempts to live without any home or relationships for a while, but then gradually becomes entangled in a new set of relationships that he cannot maintain in his inauthentic, unrecognizable (legal) state. He both exploits others and is exploited, lacking a'self' of recognized responsibility and integrity.

The following quote is intriguing in the context of other WWI era readings:

'This feeling about life, for Signor Anselmo, was precisely like a lantern that enables us to see ourselves dispersed across the earth and perceive good and evil; a lantern that projects a more or less extensive circle of light around us, beyond which lies the blank shadow, a terrifying shadow that would not exist if the lantern were not lit within us, but which we unfortunately must believe to be real as long as the lantern burns within us. When at last it is extinguished, perpetual night will greet us after the hazy daylight of our illusion, or rather, we will be left at the mercy of Being, which will have only shattered the vain forms of our reasoning.

…In each period, in fact, a certain consensus regarding feelings tends to establish itself among men, which imparts light and color to those lanterns represented by the abstract terms: Truth, Virtue, Beauty, Honour, and so on…Don't you think, for example, that the lantern of pagan Virtue must have been red? Christian Virtue must have been violet, a depressing color. The light of a common idea is nourished by a collective feeling; however, if this feeling ceases to be general, the lantern of the abstract term remains standing, but the flame of the idea crackles, flickers, and dims, as typically occurs in all periods of so-called transition. Then there are periods in history, not altogether uncommon, when proud gusts of wind suddenly extinguish all the lanterns. Wonderful! In the unexpected darkness, there is an indescribable sense of disorientation among the smaller lanterns: some go this way, some that way, some turn back, some stumble; no one knows the way any longer: they collide with one another, perhaps form groups of ten or twenty for a while, but cannot reach any agreement and return to being scattered about in a state of confusion, anguish, and fury, like ants that cannot find the entrance to the anthill when some cruel child has blocked it up just for fun. I think, Signor Meis, that we are in precisely such a time at this very moment. It is very dark and chaotic. All the great lanterns have gone out. To whom should we turn? Should we perhaps turn back? Should we return to the surviving lanterns that great men now deceased have left burning on their tombs?

…The weak, yet constant light of these little lanterns [referring to the lanterns of men who obtain their lantern oil from the church] of course awakens a painful envy in many of us; while certain others, who believe they are armed, like so many Jupiters, with the tamed thunderbolts of science and who, instead of the little lanterns, carry triumphant electric torches, feel disdain and pity…

1990

In 1990, I was at a certain stage of my life, perhaps still in the process of exploring and forming my literary tastes.

1995

By 1995, I might have had more experiences and a deeper understanding of different literary works.

2024, terza rilettura, modificherà la mia percezione di gradevolezza?

In 2024, this third reading, will it change my perception of pleasantness? Since I was very young, Pirandello has been a revelation to me. His works opened up new worlds and made me think in different ways. But as the years pass and I have more life experiences, I wonder if my perception of his works will change. Will I find new meanings and interpretations? Or will my initial impression remain the same? Only time will tell.

Da giovanissima, Pirandello fu per me una rivelazione, oggi chissà...

Since I was very young, Pirandello was a revelation for me. But today, who knows... Maybe this third reading will bring new surprises and insights. Maybe it will confirm my initial love for his works. Or maybe it will lead me to discover something completely different. I am excited to find out.

Please provide the article that needs to be rewritten and expanded so that I can help you.

Often relegated to the role of "school-read novel", Pirandello's most famous work undoubtedly deserves to be rediscovered and read in its entirety. The multiple themes it explores, from the search for one's identity to personal fulfillment via freedom, indeed raise the curtain on a 360-degree analysis of the human soul in all its complexity. It is therefore a novel to be savored without any restriction and without any conditioning.

The first part unexpectedly reminded me of the playful and grotesque tone of some of Shakespeare's comedies, due to the far-fetched situations in which the protagonist Mattia Pascal finds himself. Then, when, taking advantage of the incident that happened to a man wrongly identified with him, Pascal decides to flee and assume a new identity (under the name of Adriano Meis), the tones change, taking on a more dramatic, at times philosophical turn. And the protagonist realizes that this much-desired freedom is nothing but a second prison... and so he decides to turn back and reclaim that first abdicated identity. Will he come out victorious?

After reading it, I am led to think that Pirandello has shown, through this story, a perfect way to nullify one's existence (and the debts associated with it) without taking one's life, to metaphorically kill oneself without great harm. But I may be wrong. Because this novel is surely much more than it seems. I challenge myself to reread it and rediscover it again, but not right away.

Luigi Pirandello (1857-1936), the 1934 Nobel Prize winner, was renowned for his theatrical works, especially the innovative "Six Characters in Search of an Author" (1921). However, he also wrote short stories and novels, such as this one, written in 1904.

Matias Pascal, whose family has endured a series of financial misfortunes, is trapped in an unhappy marriage and life. But then a series of random events allow him to enjoy unexpected freedom and the need to adopt a new identity: Adriano Meis. And as his new situation progresses, certain restlessness begins to emerge in his soul: Free for what?

"Pull the hat down to the eyes and under the fine drizzle that was already falling from the sky, move away from there, although for the first time considering that yes, that my unlimited freedom was beautiful, no doubt, but also a little tyrannical, since it did not even allow me to buy myself an insignificant little dog."

The novel, in the version I have read, is written in an archaic language and extremely detailed regarding the introspection of Matias and the situations that occur. Nevertheless, it is read fluently and is entertaining. And in it, the author manages to convey the feeling of the end of an era, in which he attempts to confront what he understands as a frivolous void with a series of ideas, apparently based on Theosophy (which he puts in the mouth of his host, Don Anselmo).

"Well, the same, Mr. Meis, is the destiny of Rome. The popes made it -in their way, of course! - a pile of holy water; we Italians have turned it -also in our way- into an ashtray. From all over we have come here to throw, the butt of our cigarette, which is also the symbol of the frivolity of this tiny life, and of the bitter and poisonous delight that it offers us."

In summary, an entertaining novel (although not reaching the quality of "Six Characters in Search of an Author"), with its doses of absurd humor, that has the plus of an unexpected and in some way open ending.

There is an interesting epilogue added by Pirandello twenty years after the publication of the work, in which he faces the supposed obligation of the verisimilitude of fiction, and in which he emphasizes the need to distinguish between "the man" as an abstract construction, and real men and their lives, in which sometimes unlikely events occur. It allows one to imagine the criticisms he received and how innovative his work was for those times.

Central questions of Pirandello’s novel are “Who am I” and “What is freedom”.

One of the few things, in fact about the only thing Mattia Pascal was sure of was his name. The last time I read Pirandello was in high school. I think I read some plays that I have to re-read as I don't remember them well. This is his most famous novel with some autobiographical features. It explores themes of identity, self, freedom, and death in a humorous way, making it a relatively light read. Mattia was filled with deep philosophical questions and had a bit of a hopeless, nihilistic worldview. Death and mourning accompanied him through his childhood and adolescence, shaping his perspective. First, his father's early death made him a distant figure. Then, the deaths of his two baby daughters and his mother, who was a living shadow, affected him. Without an example of how to handle problems maturely, Mattia escaped into solitude with books and deep thoughts. He felt empty and alone, with questions about the meaning and direction of his life. I can relate to this defense mechanism as many book lovers and intellectuals can.

His financial and marital situations became a cage associated with his sense of self, leading to his longing to escape not only his situation but also himself. The idea of suicide as a way to kill his former identity rose, and with the help of events, he became Adriano Meis, a man traveling the world with no obligations but to himself.

In time, he learned that there is excruciating loneliness in absolute freedom. Our longing for connectedness makes us dependant on others, and the quest for absolute freedom is impossible. Freedom is a dream we never achieve, and even if we could, like Mattia, we wouldn't be happy or fulfilled. We can crave solitude only to find that we can't live alone.

The only ultimate liberation on earth is death. This is a very thought-provoking read with themes that interest me deeply. However, for some reason, I didn't connect with the novel as well as I thought I would. Maybe I read it at the wrong time and might change the rating in the future. But for now, it's 4 stars, and I highly recommend this novel to those who need to think about themselves and the world in a deeper way.

R.I.P. Mattia Pascal.
Mattia Pascal was a man who seemed to be born into a life of continuous adversities. In every aspect of his life, he faced hardships. He was a dutiful son, but after his father's death, a benefactor ruined his family's affluence, and his mother's life was cast into rueful shadows. As a husband and father, he was concerned and doting, even in the most difficult situations that brought demoralizing consequences to his marital life. The only thing he was certain of in his burdensome life was his name - Mattia Pascal. It was his solitary possession that gave him solace. May God bless his soul and hope that he ultimately finds the peace he truly needs.
Remember you until the end of time – Adriano Meis.

R.I.P. Adriano Meis.
Adriano Meis was a man who lived in boundless freedom. He was the architect of his own life, living a cheerful existence with no obligatory relations. Free as a bird, he traveled the world, embracing new experiences and a world where imagination knew no bounds. He was a self-made man, justly born to be free. However, in the end, he died in solitude, caged within his own individuality, a man whose existence seemed to be a nothingness.
Thanking you for an ephemeral bliss -- Anonymous.

The late Mattia Pascal is undoubtedly Pirandello's masterpiece. Written in a biographical form, it delves into the complex facets of personal identity and the calamitous dilemma of its mutability. The plot familiarizes the reader with the fateful life of a young Italian man, Mattia Pascal, for whom happiness is a rare commodity. Troubled by a miserable marriage, a penurious livelihood, and the utter condemnation of his survival, Mattia leaves his native land in search of an unsullied, liberated self. Driven by his rebellious mindset, he seizes an opportunity presented by a miscalculation when a newspaper reports his fallacious death. Finally, he escapes to a freer life, creating an alter-ego unchained from societal obligations. Adriano Meis, a specter of broken ties, would have been distressed by the humanness of Mattia Pascal.

Unmasking a phantom.
The famous Pirandellian epistemology of post-modernism/existentialism, which questions the foundation of distinguishable identity and its significance to human existence, shines through the minute details of Mattia's life. Was Mattia justified in his actions of concealing the truth and using the passage to live an entirely different life? Would it have been better if he had faced his unfortunate situations head-on rather than living like a ghost? Is a specified identity essential for an individual to acquire a civil status that may sometimes become burdensome? Is identity purely mechanical or does it have a human trait in its implication? The manuscript undeniably challenges your grey cells and makes you ponder on the limits of unconsciously self-constructing a new identity without acquiring a legitimate civil status. Freedom is what everyone desires to escape the harsh conditions of misfortune. But with limitless freedom comes the human aspect of excruciating seclusion and the constraints of legitimacy. Death was seen as a liberating prospect by Mattia from his entire monetary and emotional burden. His newly altered appearance and name brought him contentment, until his past caught up with him, overwhelming him with nostalgic reminiscences and gradually transforming his new persona into a dense prison in itself. Pirandello justifies the legitimacy of society and reality, which form convinced "shadows" from which individuals can never entirely liberate themselves, except when death overtakes the mind, body, and soul. In the end, whether it was Mattia or his alter-ego (Adriano), they were merely attempting to unmask a self-created phantom, as neither could completely break away from each other.

Pyrrha Delillo has a specific philosophical view on life and identity that is presented through long first-person monologues and dialogues with other characters. The question that Matias Pascal poses for us is about the existence and limitations and social arrangements. That you can exist while not existing. And to prove your existence and identity, you must constantly be in confrontation with the world and social arrangements.

Delillo's exploration of these themes delves deep into the human psyche and the complex nature of our existence. His writing forces us to question our own sense of self and our place in society. Through the characters' experiences and conversations, we gain a better understanding of the challenges and struggles that come with trying to define oneself in a constantly changing world.

Moreover, Delillo's use of language and narrative techniques adds another layer of depth to his work. His prose is often poetic and evocative, creating a vivid and immersive reading experience. The dialogues between the characters are sharp and thought-provoking, further enhancing the exploration of the novel's themes. Overall, Delillo's work offers a profound and engaging meditation on life, identity, and the human condition.