Summary “Simplon Tunnel”


In Genoa, in a small square in front of the station, a dense crowd of people gathered-workers predominate, but many well-dressed, well-fed people. At the head of the crowd are members of the municipality, the banner of the city, waving heavily silk embroidered with silk, wavers above their heads, and alongside it are the multicolored banners of workers’ organizations. The gold of brushes, fringes and shoelaces shines, the spears on the shafts shine, the silk rustles, and the crowd, like a chorus singing in a low voice, buzzes in a solemn manner. Above her, on a high pedestal – the figure of Columbus, a dreamer who suffered a lot for what he believed, and – won, because he believed. He still looks down at people, as if speaking with marble lips: “Only believers win.” At his feet, around the pedestal, the musicians spread out copper pipes, copper in the sun sparkles like gold. A heavy marble building of the station stands in a concave semicircle, spreading

its wings, as if to embrace people. From the port, the heavy breathing of steamers is heard, the deaf work of the screw in the water, the ringing of chains, whistles and cries – in the square is quiet, stuffy and all is bathed in hot sun. On the balconies and in the windows of the houses there are women, with flowers in their hands, festively dressed children’s figures, like flowers. A locomotive whistles to the station, the crowd fluttered like black birds, several crumpled hats flew over their heads, musicians take pipes, some serious, elderly people bustle forward, face the crowd and say something, swinging hands to the right and left. The crowd slowly and unhurriedly parted, cleaning the wide passage into the street. – Who are they meeting? “The children from Parma!” There’s a strike in Parma. The hosts are not inferior, the workers have become difficult, and here they are, having collected their children, who had already begun to succumb to hunger, they sent them to their comrades in Genoa. Because of the columns of the station there is a slender procession of little people, they
are half-dressed and seem shaggy in their rags, shaggy, just like some strange animals. They go holding hands, five in a row – very small, dusty, apparently tired. Their faces are serious, but their eyes shine brightly and clearly, and when the music meets Garibaldi’s hymn to them, – through these slender, pointed and hungry faces runs, a merry ripple, a smile of pleasure. The crowd welcomes the people of the future with a deafening shout, before them banners bend, roaring copper tubes, stunning and blinding children – they are somewhat stunned by this method, for a moment they are pushed back and suddenly – somehow immediately stretched out, grew, crowded into one body and in hundreds of voices, but the sound of one breast, shouted: – Viva Italia! 1 – Long live the young Parma! the crowd thundered, overturning them. – Evviva Garibaldi! 2 – children scream, crashing into the crowd with a gray wedge and disappearing into it. In the windows of hotels, on the roofs of houses with white birds, handkerchiefs flutter, people are showering flowers and cheerful, loud cries. Everything became festive, everything came to life, and the gray marble blossomed with some bright spots. Sweep banners, flies hats and flowers, over the heads of grown-up people grew small children’s heads, flashed tiny dark paws, catching flowers and greeting, and all is thundering in the air a continuous powerful cry: – Viva il Socialismo! 3 – Evviva Italia! Almost all the children are seized by the hands, they sit on the shoulders of adults, they are pressed to the broad breasts of some hard, mustached people; music is barely audible in the noise, Laughter and screams. In the crowd women dive, analyzing the remaining visitors, and they shouted to each other: “Do you take two, Annita?” – Yes. You too? “And for Margarita’s alone.” Everywhere a cheerful excitement, festive faces, moist kind eyes, and already here and there the children of strikers chew bread. – In our time, this is not thought of! – says the old man with a bird’s nose and a black cigar in his mouth. – And – so it is simple. – Yes! It’s simple and clever. The old man took the cigar from his mouth, looked at its end, and sighed, shook the ashes. And then, after seeing two guys from Parma, apparently brothers, made a formidable face, bristled – they looked at him seriously – he put his hat on his eyes, spread his hands, the children, huddled together, frowned, retreating, the old man suddenly squatted down and loudly, very similar, sang with a cock. The children laughed, stomping bare heels on the stones, and he got up, straightened his hat and, having decided that he had done everything that was necessary, swaying on unfaithful feet, walked away. A hunchbacked and gray-haired woman with a woman-yaga face and stiff gray hair on her bony chin is standing at the foot of the Columbus statue and – crying, wiping her red eyes with the end of a faded shawl. Dark and ugly, she is so strangely alone among the excited crowd of people. Dancing, a black-haired Genoese walks, leading a man of about seven years old, in wooden shoes and a gray hat to the shoulders. He shakes his head to drop his hat on the back of his neck, and she falls to his face, a woman tears her off a small head and, swinging it high, singing something and laughing, the boy looks at her with his head thrown back – the whole smile, then jumps up, wanting to get a hat, and both of them disappear. A tall man in a leather apron, with huge huge hands, is holding a six-year-old girl on his shoulder, a gray-haired, like a mouse, and says to a woman walking beside him, leading a little boy, red as a fire, by the hand: “You know, if it’s grafted on.” We will be difficult to overcome, eh? And densely, loudly, triumphantly laughs and, throwing his little burden in the blue air, shouts: “Evviva Parma-a!” 4 People leave, taking away and taking away their children, on the square there are crumpled flowers, pieces of paper from the confect, a cheerful group of fakinoes and above them a noble figure of a man who discovered the New World. And from the streets, as if from huge pipes, the cheerful cries of people coming to meet a new life flow beautifully. on the square there are crumpled flowers, pieces of paper from the confect, a cheerful group of fakinoes and above them a noble figure of a man who discovered the New World. And from the streets, as if from huge pipes, the cheerful cries of people coming to meet a new life flow beautifully. on the square there are crumpled flowers, pieces of paper from the confect, a cheerful group of fakinoes and above them a noble figure of a man who discovered the New World. And from the streets, as if from huge pipes, the cheerful cries of people coming to meet a new life flow beautifully.


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Summary “Simplon Tunnel”