What did Mussolini dream about? Who knows, who cares? Did Jesus ever have nightmares? Did Hitler dream anti-Semitic dreams or did he dream about steam trains, bubble monkeys and frolicking about with Hildegard behind the bicycle shed like the rest of us? We may never know. But would we be able to identify famous people from the record of their dreams alone?
Antonio Tabucchi in “Dreams of Dreams” (Sogni di Sogni in the original) records the dreams that he imagines famous people might have had; Freud dreamed that he had changed into a woman and was accused by the butcher of being in love with his fantasies; Michelangelo, while in bed with a snoring prostitute, dreamed that he was visited by God who, while pointing his finger, said that he wanted a painting. Michelangelo then prevaricates, urinates and vomits and Jesus massages his feet. And as for Modigliani…! The dreams all seem to be a contorted reflection of what we know to be the dreamer's true personality, concerns, and life, an observation that worries me as I set myself the task of recording a dream I had in 1965 when I was a child.
Here it is:
The Third World War started in Africa (where I lived). Our family didn't have much money so I was going to have to join the army and go to Biafra to unblock the Suez Canal. Only rich families could stay at home because they had to keep the banks open. When I looked out of the door of our house to find the war, it was nowhere to be seen so I got quite scared in case the captain caught me and had me keel-hauled for desertion. There were no horses in red suits of armour at the river, but my grandfather was standing to attention by his boat, and the vegetable garden was full of fluffy white cloth where I had planted cucumbers. In despair I turned myself into a big shiny penny and rolled down the road and dropped myself down the drain into the First World War.
