Keeping the faith
THE LIE<br>by Oliver Friggieri, translated by Charles Briffa <br>Allied Publications pp210, ISBN 978-99909-3-113-6
Despite ethical and moral considerations, we often find excuses and justifications for altering versions of the truth in order to prevent worse consequences from arising. Oliver Friggieri's The Lie tackles the concept that people have different interpretations of reality, so when it comes to speaking the truth, this varies according to different people for they see things in a different light.
Originally published in Maltese (Il-Gidba, 1977), The Lie is set in Malta in the 1960s. Its subject matter was risqué for its time and still remains provocative in a still, albeit considerably adapted and diluted, religion-driven community. Prof. Friggieri challenges those unchallenged conventions of Maltese society, including the view that marriage is for life and how the village community looks to its parish priest as if he were God Almighty. The author presents the village as a metabrain, a like-minded entity where everyone thinks, does and wears the same thing. "They're all alike. They even look and walk the same. The only distinction is between men and women..." The problem arises with those who do not blindly follow the accepted norms and choose to live their own version of reality. Their version of what is true is different to that of the rest of the crowd.
The Lie opens with the well-nigh spent relationship between Natan and his wife, Anna ‒ a couple who have become incapable of loving each other. Anna curses her husband with stinging words: "Damn you and damn the day I met you!" Caught in the horrible net of a dead marriage, all Natan wants is out. In the religious eyes of the villagers, this is not supposed to be an option and Natan becomes a scapegoat for believing differently and leaving his wife to move in with Rebekka, the woman with whom he was having an affair.
The novel pivots between two realities: that as perceived by the whole village and that of the couple who have had the effrontery to conduct an illicit affair. Analogically the novel depicts the traditional Maltese way of life that belies the evolving trends of the second half of the 20th century.
Inevitably the clash is not easily resolved for both parties believe themselves to be right. There are different versions of reality and consequently, different versions of the truth. Prof. Friggieri does not believe in an absolute truth and his story appears to be arguing for the acceptance of people's different versions of reality, for they are all what they believe to be true. He pleads for tolerance which is in short supply.
The truth as embodied in the Catholic religion is only one version of reality, Prof. Friggieri argues. And this truth is easiest to fall in with and comfortably accept without challenge as it has been around for hundreds of years, and has the added bonus of respectability in having been written down. So a new version of reality, that of the couple who have an affair, cannot possibly augur well. Their version of the truth clashes with that of the majority of the Maltese population, which is backed by a written doctrine. Natan does not condemn them outright: as he tries to explain to Anna, the life these people (the majority of the Maltese population) are living is not a shameful lie. They "live as (they) believe (they should)." Yet their beliefs clash with that of society's whose laws are firmly set in stone: "Our law is not written down. Theirs is. It's set down in books on morality and it's inscribed on the village walls and on the villagers' faces. It's been there a long time."
A translated work always loses from the original. Still, The Lie has been translated into lucid, often poetic, English prose. The tale of the trials of anyone who chooses to swim against the current and is engulfed in the implications has, more than two decades later, lost its originality, and is not what makes the book worth the read. What gives The Lie value is Prof. Friggieri's depiction of traditional Maltese life in a beautiful, realistic way. He captured Maltese life of the 1960s with neat precision, describing the women who wear veils to Mass, and who spend a good part of their day in repetitive gossiping and chatter.
And some issues are still very topical, such as the Maltese obsession with fireworks. Despite a young man having lost his life to a fireworks disaster, the people cannot fathom a village feast without fireworks. As Rebekka's mother comments, "a death like that is unfortunate, I know, but people want the fireworks".
Besides the predominant theme of misunderstandings in all its forms, another sub-theme features: man's relationships with animals. In an environment of broken communication and lies, Natan finds solace in his companionship with his dog, Fefu, and so the book ends, or begins again, with Natan about to narrate the whole story again to his dog.
• Ms Stivala can never get enough of books or of delving into writers' portrayal of their realities.
• A review copy of this title was supplied by Allied Publications.
Originally published in Maltese (Il-Gidba, 1977), The Lie is set in Malta in the 1960s. Its subject matter was risqué for its time and still remains provocative in a still, albeit considerably adapted and diluted, religion-driven community. Prof. Friggieri challenges those unchallenged conventions of Maltese society, including the view that marriage is for life and how the village community looks to its parish priest as if he were God Almighty. The author presents the village as a metabrain, a like-minded entity where everyone thinks, does and wears the same thing. "They're all alike. They even look and walk the same. The only distinction is between men and women..." The problem arises with those who do not blindly follow the accepted norms and choose to live their own version of reality. Their version of what is true is different to that of the rest of the crowd.
The Lie opens with the well-nigh spent relationship between Natan and his wife, Anna ‒ a couple who have become incapable of loving each other. Anna curses her husband with stinging words: "Damn you and damn the day I met you!" Caught in the horrible net of a dead marriage, all Natan wants is out. In the religious eyes of the villagers, this is not supposed to be an option and Natan becomes a scapegoat for believing differently and leaving his wife to move in with Rebekka, the woman with whom he was having an affair.
The novel pivots between two realities: that as perceived by the whole village and that of the couple who have had the effrontery to conduct an illicit affair. Analogically the novel depicts the traditional Maltese way of life that belies the evolving trends of the second half of the 20th century.
Inevitably the clash is not easily resolved for both parties believe themselves to be right. There are different versions of reality and consequently, different versions of the truth. Prof. Friggieri does not believe in an absolute truth and his story appears to be arguing for the acceptance of people's different versions of reality, for they are all what they believe to be true. He pleads for tolerance which is in short supply.
The truth as embodied in the Catholic religion is only one version of reality, Prof. Friggieri argues. And this truth is easiest to fall in with and comfortably accept without challenge as it has been around for hundreds of years, and has the added bonus of respectability in having been written down. So a new version of reality, that of the couple who have an affair, cannot possibly augur well. Their version of the truth clashes with that of the majority of the Maltese population, which is backed by a written doctrine. Natan does not condemn them outright: as he tries to explain to Anna, the life these people (the majority of the Maltese population) are living is not a shameful lie. They "live as (they) believe (they should)." Yet their beliefs clash with that of society's whose laws are firmly set in stone: "Our law is not written down. Theirs is. It's set down in books on morality and it's inscribed on the village walls and on the villagers' faces. It's been there a long time."
A translated work always loses from the original. Still, The Lie has been translated into lucid, often poetic, English prose. The tale of the trials of anyone who chooses to swim against the current and is engulfed in the implications has, more than two decades later, lost its originality, and is not what makes the book worth the read. What gives The Lie value is Prof. Friggieri's depiction of traditional Maltese life in a beautiful, realistic way. He captured Maltese life of the 1960s with neat precision, describing the women who wear veils to Mass, and who spend a good part of their day in repetitive gossiping and chatter.
And some issues are still very topical, such as the Maltese obsession with fireworks. Despite a young man having lost his life to a fireworks disaster, the people cannot fathom a village feast without fireworks. As Rebekka's mother comments, "a death like that is unfortunate, I know, but people want the fireworks".
Besides the predominant theme of misunderstandings in all its forms, another sub-theme features: man's relationships with animals. In an environment of broken communication and lies, Natan finds solace in his companionship with his dog, Fefu, and so the book ends, or begins again, with Natan about to narrate the whole story again to his dog.
• Ms Stivala can never get enough of books or of delving into writers' portrayal of their realities.
• A review copy of this title was supplied by Allied Publications.