A shipwreck, the most terrible experience for those who leave their land in search of a better future seen through the eyes of the sea, of the wooden boat carrying 119 souls, and finally of a woman called to make the hardest choice for a mother . Last night, an extraordinary Anna Foglietta kept the audience glued to their seats as they watched Nora perform the monologue "Una Guerra" by Michele Santeramo, an exciting piece included in the program of the 42nd edition of La Notte dei Poeti by Cedac. Accompanied by the notes of the cello of Francesco Mariozzi, author of the show's music, Anna Foglietta told the drama of a woman on the run, forced by circumstances to decide which of her two children to save, while desperately trying to stay afloat by clinging to a piece wooden.
A story that probes the human soul, that torments the conscience of a woman who put her children on a boat and hoped to take them with her beyond the sea, leaving behind a country in rubble. But it is not only the heart of a mother that speaks, even the "untreated wooden" boat wants to have its say, it accuses the sea for having deceived it, for those caresses never given and for those lashes to the sides that have always made it gasp; but he is also angry with the men he is carrying, no longer 119 because one ended up in the waves, because they lit a fire that damaged his untreated wood. Then as happens to people, the boat also drowns, and lets out a gasp just like whales do. Anna Foglietta then is the sea, which doesn't care whether 119, 10 or none die: the sea doesn't care about the fate of men.
The sea speaks with a nostalgic voice, which has no body, soul, beginning, end, life and death: it remembers when it was one with the earth, the sweetest of unions. The narrator is now the mother, who waits for dawn hoping for a miracle, and then waits for the darkness of the night to hide from the world what she has been planning to do for hours. She entrusts the youngest of her children to the sea, he who in this world was not strong enough to survive, and remains clinging to the trunk with her firstborn, giving them both hope and meaning to that sacrifice.
