Little employee

Author: (Italian) Cerrami
Translator: Lü Yuge
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-04-01
Features: A recommended Italian novel by Mo Yan: "In our daily lives, around us, we can find people like Giovanni, or even say, we ourselves are such people. They, or we, are unknown in life and unheard of in death. But after reading Little Clerk, I think we should revise our perception of Giovanni-like ordinary people, or perhaps our own understanding needs adjustment."
Excerpt:
Giovanni interrupted his son's words, "Did you really answer all the questions?" Mario nodded proudly. "Great!" Giovanni said, pulling the fishing rod to see if the fish had. "Imagine if we had all the funds for this project. You could double it in a year. How wonderful would that be!" Mario stretched out on the grass, gazing at the azure sky, feeling as if it were a blackboard whitewashed with chalk. "Numbers are one thing, but money is another! Dad." "My son is an accountant, Vivaldi. Accountant. Doctor, may I introduce my son to you? Please! Vivaldi Accountant, Spaziani Doctor, Section Head, Personnel Department, Pension Department. I am truly delighted!" Giovanni said in a determined tone, speaking methodically, and burst into laughter. "You will carve out your own path. You must start from where I have reached in my thirty years of practice, and you are only twenty. A truly capable young person will consider their own future, not think about others, and make others hang themselves." When saying the last sentence, Giovanni gripped the fishing rod tightly, as if strangling someone. "From tomorrow, things will change. We will use the salary we receive times to buy a new television. You can also trade in your car. That 850 car is leaking everywhere now." Hearing this, Mario expressed his gratitude with great enthusiasm. "You must think about yourself, only about yourself," Dad said, demonstrating great intelligence. "In this world, you don’t have time to observe without thinking. You must take action. Your enemies have enough time to stab you in the back. You cannot hesitate. You must move forward resolutely on your own path. What satisfies Mom and me is that we have raised our only son to be an accountant. What more do we need?! We are already old. What we want is to go to God peacefully and without guilt." Mario sat down again, looking at his father with the gaze and demeanor of a brave person, so moved that his eyes filled with tears. Giovanni glanced at him, then smiled and patted his shoulder. The fish finally took the bait. The red cork float suddenly sank into the still water of the pond. Dad and the little son couldn’t suppress their excitement and jumped up. "We finally waited for it," Giovanni said, trying to hide his excitement, in a low voice. Mario made the joints of his hands crack, twisting his body excitedly. It was a small fish about the length of a palm, with a short, blunt face and a wide mouth full of teeth, even on the upper jaw and tongue. The fish leaped on the water surface, as if trying to jump into the sky, but fell into the slippery weeds on the shore with a dull sound. Four nimble hands grabbed it frantically and threw it to a farther place from the pond. Giovanni grabbed the frantic little fish again and clenched it tightly. "Bring a stone," Dad shouted to his son, "Bring me a stone." Mario picked up a stone and gave it to Dad. The father placed the fish on the pebbles on the ground and began to crush its head with stones until the little creature’s head was broken. The stones were covered with blood, but the little fish seemed to have seven lives: to Giovanni’s surprise, its tail was still moving. Giovanni struck it again with sharp stones. nally, the fish stopped moving. "Is it dead?" Mario asked. "It’s dead," Giovanni replied. The hook was deeply embedded in the little fish’s stomach and couldn’t be removed. Giovanni pulled and pulled, but it wouldn’t come out. "It seems you’re not a professional fisherman," Mario said with a smile, as his peculiar brown skin made his slightly parted lips seem covered with a thin layer of fuzz. "I’ll learn to fish!" Dad replied, suddenly pulling the hook out of the fish’s belly. The fish’s tangled intestines and belly came out with the hook.