A MAN (UN UOMO) Oriana Fallaci William Weaver (transl.) New York: Simon & Schuster, 19801 |
Rating: 5.0 High |
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ISBN-13 978-0-671-25241-0 | ||||
ISBN 0-671-25241-0 | 463p. | hC | $15.95 |
There is this about Oriana Fallaci's writing: Such verisimilitude does it possess that the fiction — such as this novel — often feels like a description of actual events.
Indeed, the hero of this novel, Alexandros Panagoulis, did exist. He did try to murder George Papadopoulos, dictator of Greece, with a bomb; he was caught, imprisoned, tortured, pardoned after five years. Afterward he did become Oriana's friend, perhaps her lover. So much is the backbone of Part 1, though I suspect that some of the episodes: the escapes and recaptures, the dialogs with prison commandants and other officials, the tricks played on dumb guards, were invented.
The remainder of the book, Parts 2 through 6, clearly is pure invention. It tells how Panagoulis tries and ultimately fails to adapt himself to the banalities and compromises of normal life. His career exemplifies the overarching principle that for most people there are no overarching principles; their lives are ruled, their courses determined, by love of comfort, love of power, or by fear. But Panagoulis too is ruled by something beyond principle. Only in his case it is the love of personal freedom. In the long struggle to better the human condition, which engages all of us to the degree determined by our personal gifts, personal freedom is the proper guidestar. From it flow the fairest distribution of resources, the maximum flexibility in solving problems, the greatest general happiness. Achieving this result amid the conflicting drives of human natures is a question of balance, and balance of course requires compromise.
Panagoulis was truly a hero. But it sometimes happens that heroes lament the passing of their times of trial and great privation, chafe at the relative safety and comfort which passage through those trials has earned them, become overbearing and hard to live with. Such is the Panagoulis of the novel. Fallaci writes of his struggle with passion but no sentimentality, in prose that combines toughness and grace. This is not a pleasant story; it has no happy ending. What it does have is an honest portrayal of one honest man. Read it for that; it will repay the effort.
But I strongly recommend that you first look up a hard-cover2 copy of Fallaci's Interview with History and read the chapter on the real Alexandros Panagoulis. Then you can ask yourself, as I do, where in this tale does fiction end and reality begin.
The translation is good. I was not counting typos; I recall just one; a missing article. The one thing I would fault is Fallaci's depiction of the use of a sleep-gas gun in the final chase scene; I question its effectiveness under the stated conditions.