What happens when somebody is diagnozed with diabetes? The protagonist in Diabetikern/The Diabetic – Motturi’s debut as a novelist – is, strange though it may seem, not at all despondent. Rather, he feels newly in love, and in some weird way as if he was floating above the ground.
He is happy. He has just found out that he is diabetic and feels a strange comfort in knowing that he will be depending on insuline for the rest of his life. The only problem is the attitude of those around him, treating him like a victim against his will. He doesn’t want their compassion. He, the diabetic, is happy, not in spite of his diabetes, but by virtue of it being a chronic and incurable disease.
When his girlfriend is offered to curate an art exhibition in New York, he takes the opportunity to go into exile with her, aiming to flee from peoples’ sympathetic and worrying glances. In the metropolis of tolerant manifoldness he hopes that his diabetic experience will flourish. Here he shall be able to enjoy the intrinsic
honey-sweetness of diabetes mellitus without being reduced to a mere patient.
Despite these magnificent dreams, it doesn’t really work out the way he had hoped. Perhaps the failure is due to the World Diabetes Day, an imminent double wedding, the Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Zizek or a certain dog that keeps on turning up in the story.