A Cuckoo's Masterpiece

By Emidio Galea

‘A Cuckoo’s Masterpiece’ is an intriguing story about a religious old man spending his last days in an asylum. He starts to go crazy and imagines writing letters to his atheistic nephew, Thomas, a psychiatrist of international repute. He wants an approval for his forthcoming masterpiece. He ‘writes’ about panaceas for some of the world’s ills. However, he cannot fathom a Utopia without religion which is extremely important to him. Although muddled for the most part, his ‘letters’ at times offer insightful observations about life in general and a purposeful life in particular, but they always fall short of his inner feelings. In the end he becomes delirious and dies of a massive heart attack. Review by Prof. Susannah Robbins, Ph.D. (Eng. Lit.), former Vassar professor

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329127487

Book preview

A Cuckoo's Masterpiece

A CUCKOO’S MASTERPIECE, A novella by Emidio Galea

I dedicate this novella to my wife, Mary Carmen, and my two children, Sandro and Anna who have always encouraged me in my literary endeavours.

A special thank you to Anna for her artwork.

© 2015 Emidio Galea,

ISBN: 978-1-329-12748-7,

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

PROLOGUE

Our hero is a nonagenarian who wakes up one day to find himself in a mental institution somewhere in the USA. He is an Italo-American who had been brought up in a very religious Catholic family. He is an ex-librarian, a puffed up pseudo-intellectual, with no relatives except for a nephew, Thomas, an eminent scholar and a psychiatrist to boot, now living in Australia. Apparently, for a very long time he has been dreaming of writing a masterpiece. In his sick mind he conjures up all sorts of ideas for a panacea for most, hopefully all, of the world’s maladies. He is convinced that his illustrious ideas will be universally adopted and a worldwide Utopia embraced. The innumerable digressions, puerile, trivial, and irrelevant observations, and non-sequiturs that he makes to prove the worthiness of his masterpiece, are part and parcel of his muddled state of mind. Before publishing this book, he wishes for an approval, a sort of fiat, from his scholarly nephew with whom long ago he used to spend hours on end discussing and debating on all topics under the sun.

So his mind goes off. He starts ‘writing’ letters to his nephew about his literary venture. At times he imagines his masterpiece complete and ready for publication and at other times he considers it as a work in progress requiring a few finishing touches here and there. He is confused, very confused, and there are moments when he becomes aware of his confused mental state. No doubt, he keeps repeating ad nauseam, his work is going to be an acclaimed masterpiece, a veritable classic, a book like no other book before it. However, there is one humongous snag: Thomas is a diehard atheist and our hero, fully aware of this predicament, tries very hard in his mental meanderings to steer away from all religious arguments. It is not an easy task. Try as he might, our hero, unwittingly, often finds himself embroiled in some religious diatribes with his nephew. Indeed, ultimately he cannot visualize a worldwide Utopia without religion. He is scared this inner conflict might cause a total mental breakdown. It doesn’t, but not long afterwards a massive heart attack did him in. Before kicking the bucket, our hero was heard mumbling some disjointed phrases that had been on his mind for a very, very long time.

1.

"Nothing is more foolish than to

talk of frivolous things seriously;

But nothing is wittier than to make

frivolities serve serious ends."

Erasmus.

Dear Thomas:

Great news! Yesterday Dr. Rail assured the head nurse that I was well on my way towards a complete recovery. I am in full control of my senses now. Early this morning, Mrs. Saunders broke out the happy news to me and nearly broke her neck in doing so. She came rushing into the dorm waving the report and slipped on something and – boom! - her head hit the bedpost with a huge thud. Lucky dame. She came out unscathed. She gave me a huge bear hug and cheerfully read out the medical report for all who had ears to hear. She told me she had given up on me.

It’s only a matter of days now before I leave this miserable nut house. Mrs. Saunders said a few sessions of dianetics and callanetics will do the trick. Yoga exercises haven’t worked the miracle they were supposed to. When I heard the result, I immediately thought of writing to you before it’s too late. Before I lose it again. I’m scared, Tommy. I remember as clearly as daylight what you confided in me before you left for down under. Do you still collect the memoirs of octogenarians and nonagenarians? You used to pester me to bare my soul to you and encapsulate for you the experiences of a long life. Well said: encapsulating the whole gamut of life. In my case, it’s been one damned thing after another.

My book, which has been brewing in my mind for so many years, will be out any day now. It took me only seven days to bring it all together. Finally, I have come to its finis. Well, not exactly, because I’m now in the process of going over some details. I would like your feedback, especially with regard to some minor problems concerning encapsulation. O how I love the word! I’ll let you in on a secret: basically, my book will draw on my long life experiences. After all, you can only give of what you have. Common sense. Some people will tell you otherwise, I know, but never believe them. They aren’t necessarily lying though. They are misinformed. Lots of misinformation nowadays. Keep yourself informed, Tommy, and on your toes at all times. Be up to date as much as possible. There are swindlers everywhere. Trust me!

Well, Thomas, I’ve so much to say and there is so little time left. Ars est longa, vita brevis. I don’t know where to start. I must definitely be brief. No baloney. No unnecessary details. I must hit the nail on the head first time. I must hit as many birds as possible with the same stone. I like brevity. I’m a stickler for brevity. I remember reading a short fable in French. Or was it in Italian? Whatever. There was this fishmonger running a brisk business in his hometown. He nailed up a huge sign with big words: Here we sell fresh fish every day. One day, a dear friend of his, a scholar of ill-repute, mocked him in public. He told the fishmonger that the sign was a perfect example of a pleonasm. So the poor fishmonger asked the scholar to explain what he meant by pleonasm.

No need to advertise his merchandise

The scholar of ill-repute gave the poor fishmonger a thorough panegyric. O yes, now I remember, the fable was in Spanish. Funny language Spanish. There is this blasted word butter. Burro in Italian. In French beurre and probably similar in God knows how many other languages. But guess what burro means in Spanish? It means donkey. Right now I can’t remember how the ass comes into the story, but definitely there’s a donkey in the story. Anyway, I’ll skip that crap. Must be brief. The scholar said there was no need to advertise his merchandise. Doesn’t everybody know what he sells and where? Doesn’t everybody smell his fish from one mile away? And on and on he rambled.

I’m sure you’ve already guessed the end of the story. Intelligenti pauca. The hapless fishmonger listened to those words of wisdom and his business went under. He lost all his life’s savings, assets and all in a few days. But don’t get it into your head that too much is always too much. Brevity can be very confusing. Well, not exactly. In point of fact I can easily encapsulate my whole life’s experiences in a few words. No problem. Encapsulate! There’s education for you. Very educated, my dear Tommy. Encapsulate it by saying nothing? Well, nearly. But tell me, by all that’s holy, how can I relate to you my life’s experiences by saying nothing. I’ll be a centenarian in no time at all. How time flies! Full of vigour one day, falling apart the next. Carpe diem was my motto then. Not always above board. O the sins of youth! Do you want me to send you a ream of blank