{"id":11908,"date":"2016-06-22T17:13:35","date_gmt":"2016-06-22T15:13:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=11908"},"modified":"2016-06-22T17:13:35","modified_gmt":"2016-06-22T15:13:35","slug":"the-interview","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/the-interview\/","title":{"rendered":"The Interview"},"content":{"rendered":"

The other afternoon, as I was browsing through some second hand books, I found one by Mario Tobino<\/strong>, entitled Il Deserto Della Libia<\/strong> (The Libyan Desert). Mario Tobino (1910- 1991) was not just a famous prizewinning author, but also a notable psychiatrist who lived and worked for 35 years in the psychiatric hospital of Lucca, Toscana.<\/p>\n

In the late 40’s and 50’s Tobino was the first doctor in Italy, and in fact one of the first in Europe, to endorse the philosophy of ‘gli ospedali psichiatrici aperti’<\/strong> (open asylums). In practice, this meant that those patients who were not thought to be dangerous to society were free to go out into the local town.<\/p>\n

I showed the book that I’d bought to my mother that same evening, and to my surprise she recounted a nice anecdote about the author:<\/p>\n

\"Rosanna<\/a>

My mother as a young nurse in Rome, 1948<\/span><\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

Ero in vacanza perch\u00e9 avevo appena finito il corso di infermiera, cos\u00ec ero andata a trovare le mie cugine a Lucca per qualche giorno. Un pomeriggio stavamo passeggiando per via Fillungo quando, passando davanti a un caff\u00e8, le mie cugine si sono fermate e mi hanno indicato un giovane uomo seduto ad un tavolino: “Guarda, quello \u00e8 Tobino, il famoso medico psichiatra”, hanno detto.<\/strong>
\nI was on holiday because I had just finished my nursing course, so I’d gone to visit my cousins in Lucca for a few days. One afternoon we were strolling along via Fillungo when, passing by a caf\u00e9, my cousins stopped and indicated a young man sitting at a table: “Look, that’s Tobino, the famous psychiatrist”, they said.<\/p>\n

Tutta eccitata, ho deciso cos\u00ec sui due piedi di conoscerlo, ma invece che chiedergli semplicemente l’autografo, mi \u00e8 venuta un’idea matta … mi sono inventata di essere una giornalista e di fargli un’intervista. Ho preso un quaderno, o qualcosa di simile, una penna, e mi sono presentata a Tobino.<\/strong>
\nAll excited, I decided there and then to meet him, but instead of simply asking for his autograph a crazy idea came into my head … I pretended to be a journalist and to interview him. I got hold of a notebook, or something of the sort, and a pen, and I introduced myself to Tobino.<\/p>\n

“Buongiorno Dott. Tobino, sono una giornalista della Nazione, posso farle un’intervista?”<\/strong>
\n“Good morning Dr. Tobino, I’m a journalist from La Nazione (a regional newspaper)<\/em>, can I interview you?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Lui mi ha guardata un attimo e poi mi ha detto: “Si accomodi, Signorina. Allora, cosa mi vuole chiedere?”<\/strong>
\nHe looked at me for a moment and said: “Take a seat, Madam. So, what do you want to ask me?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Via<\/a>

Via Fillungo, Lucca<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

A quel punto sono andata in panico … non mi veniva in mente niente, balbettavo, mi mandavo un sacco di accidenti dentro di me. Comunque, alla bene e meglio gli ho fatto qualche domanda. Dopo alcuni minuti che a me sono sembrati un’eternit\u00e0, Tobino mi ha detto: “Allora, Signorina, si \u00e8 divertita abbastanza?”<\/strong>
\nAt that point I panicked … my mind was completely empty, I stammered, I silently cursed myself. However, somehow I asked him\u00a0 a few questions. After some minutes, which seemed an eternity to me, Tobino said to me: “Ok, young lady, have you had enough fun?”<\/p>\n

Tutta imbarazzata e confusa gli ho chiesto: “Come ha fatto a capire che non sono una giornalista?”, e Tobino sorridendo divertito ha risposto: “Come? Semplice, non sa porre le domande, non sa cosa chiedermi. Se vuole se ne pu\u00f2 andare … oppure mette via il quaderno e le offro un caff\u00e8”<\/strong>
\nVery embarrassed and confused I asked him: “How did you know that I wasn’t a journalist?”, and Tobino, smiling in an amused way replied: “How? Simple, you don’t know how to ask questions, and you don’t know what to ask me. Now, if you want you can go away … or you can put your notebook away and I’ll offer you a coffee”.<\/p>\n

Cos\u00ec ho smesso di fare la stupida e siamo rimasti a chiacchierare tranquillamente per un bel po’ di tempo.<\/strong>
\nSo I stopped making a fool of myself, and we continued chatting peacefully for quite a long time.<\/span><\/p>\n

G<\/span>razie Mamma!<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

The other afternoon, as I was browsing through some second hand books, I found one by Mario Tobino, entitled Il Deserto Della Libia (The Libyan Desert). Mario Tobino (1910- 1991) was not just a famous prizewinning author, but also a notable psychiatrist who lived and worked for 35 years in the psychiatric hospital of Lucca…<\/p>\n

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