That persecuting mother was unleashed. She began to act through me, venting because of the difficulties, the anxieties,the pain the dying mother was causing me with her frailties, the gaze of a person who is about to drown. I became intractable,every complication seemed like a plot, I often started shouting. I had the impression, in my moments of greatest unhappiness, that the chaos of Naples had settled even in my body, that Iwas losing the capacity to be nice, bo be likable. Peitro called to talk to chidren and I was brusque. The publisher called me, or some daily paper, and I protested, I said: I39;m in my ninth month, I 39;m stressed, leave me alone.