The story – like the previous ones (click here for more stories) – is a result of the author’s fantasy, even if the main characters really existed. Here are some important notes for understanding the text… [to read the Preliminary Note click here].

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I.

Turin, 5^th January 1889

The morning was clear. Not a cloud stained the blue sky of Turin. The sun’s rays softened the intense January cold by gently touching the city, changing its appearance and defining each small line.

An old and always new beauty presented itself to Friedrich Nietzsche who, as always, was ready for the morning walk. Shortly thereafter, in the splendid park of Valentino, far from the city bustle, he would sink into his usual meditations: a flow that of Friedrich’s thought that, parallel to the great river, meandered in the background of the mystery of Life in search of “a why” of this terrible and unsettling power. Sometimes, Friedrich’s thought seemed to move just like the Po: slow and placid on some days, bloated and threatening on others. A restless journey of confrontation and clash with what the world presented, with what history had handed down. An attempt to capture the individual nuances of a beauty present, but that seemed unknown to his eyes. Turin, between nature and culture, also suggested this to the philosopher: it was of such beauty that he could carry his thoughts up high and quench his thirst for a moment.

The only beauty, in Friedrich’s eyes, able to surpass Turin, the only expression of that “power” of life, was that of his beloved, Lou Salomé. A love born in the streets of Rome: an encounter, a moment and the two became one. Lou was for Friedrich a source of continuous inspiration, support at all times: it was precisely this sentimental and spiritual association that kept the philosopher afloat after the difficult decision to leave the University of Basel definitively ten years earlier.

«Lou, I go» – said Friedrich with the usual courtesy.
«Wait» – Lou approached her husband and arranged the large scarf that wrapped around his neck and part of his chin. The hat was almost down to the eyes. There was still a big moustache covering the rest of the face, which was well shaved.

«Thank you» – said Friedrich taking his walking stick.

The two of them greeted each other affectionately.

Friedrich went down to the street. He felt the cold air on his face, but also the warmth of the sun’s rays. He looked at the elegant buildings of the street and every little detail, then walked on via Carlo Alberto and reached in a few minutes the square where stood with baroque features Palazzo Carignano. His mind began to move along the precise lines of those streets, as well as the shapes of that palace. He took the Via Po and, between the porticoes of the walk, began to take up the thread of his thought, for a moment lost among the gentle features of the architecture of Turin. Friedrich, with a cadence step, reached piazza Vittorio Emanuele and his view stopped on the great river that flowed placid and on the hills that stood against a blue sky.

As usual, he stayed a few minutes looking at the landscape from the bridge, admiring the Monte dei Cappuccini and thinking about the wonderful view that this place had offered him a few days before. He headed, shortly after, towards Valentino Park and sat there listening to nature in the quiet.

He opened the notebook:

“Life itself has taught me that faith in an ultimate meaning of life is the shadow of a great illusion. But existence is not less intense, more beautiful, more full”.

Time passed and became entangled with the noise of water and with the same thought of Friedrich that seemed to rise as the Mole Antonelliana on the city of Turin.

“It is not the fact of living that gives us happiness, but the way we do it. Life is not to be feared, but to be understood” – he said.

Friedrich closed his notebook and got up. It was almost lunchtime, and Lou was waiting for him, as usual with a smile.

The thought of his beloved led him, for a moment to resume his last thought: “Perhaps life is in this bond that finds its ultimate meaning. Perhaps the enigma of the world is in this gratuity”. And he thought of a text read by a Dominican friar in one of the churches of Turin:

“Aperta enim manu clave amoris, creaturae prodierunt”.

He sighed.

Then he walked.

He repeated the same route and arrived home at the perfect time for lunch. He opened the door and felt the warmth of the house and the smell of the meal.

He carefully arranged his coat, scarf and hat.

He put his walking stick in the usual place and his notebook in the drawer of the cupboard.

He headed towards the smell of lunch and called Lou…

Giovanni Covino

[Read the second chapter]