Bizarre wills actually exist throughout history
When the last will becomes a theatrical gesture
A will is the last space of freedom a person possesses. A sheet of paper, a signature, and everything one has been can emerge with a sincerity that life often does not allow. Throughout history, some wills have transcended the bounds of normality, becoming little novels. And all, without exception, tell something profoundly human.
Consider the German poet Heinrich Heine, who transformed his will into a final joke. He left everything to his wife, but with one condition. She would inherit only if she remarried. The reason, written in black and white, is a jab of irony: "So there will be at least one more person who will regret my death."
When William Shakespeare died, he left his wife Anne Hathaway his "second-best bed." Not the best, not the wedding bed, but the second bed. For four centuries, scholars have pondered the meaning of that gesture. Whatever the intention, that bed has become a literary enigma, a legacy that continues to speak louder than money.
In 1930, the American lawyer TM Zink decided that his inheritance should fund a library forbidden to women. No books written by women, no women's magazines, no female presence. A grotesque project, the product of obstinate misogyny. His daughter, to whom he had left only five dollars, challenged the will and had it annulled. Law, in this case, protected reality from madness.
In his will, Napoleon asked that his head be shaved and that his hair be donated to his closest friends. A ritual, almost sacred gesture. Perhaps a way to leave a fragment of himself, perhaps a final proof of loyalty.
Harry Houdini, the most famous illusionist in history, left his wife a letter with a secret code. If he could communicate from the afterlife, he would use that code. For ten years, his wife attended séances. No message arrived. But the will remains a bridge between life and mystery.
Luis Carlos de Noronha Cabral da Camara, a reclusive aristocrat, left his fortune to seventy people chosen at random from the telephone directory. When they were contacted, his heirs thought it was a prank. It was all true.
Alexander McQueen, the British fashion designer, left approximately 50,000 pounds to care for his dogs. A simple gesture, which speaks of the loneliness and sensitivity of a man who, behind his genius, hid deep wounds.
Among unknown figures, bizarre forms of wills have certainly not been lacking. About twenty years ago, a retired Italian notary published excerpts from "special wills" that certainly make one reflect on the human imagination. Among them are husbands who reveal infidelity, widows who doubt their spouse's death, mothers who question the meaning of having brought children into the world. Some dismiss their husbands as "useless," some demand an autopsy "just in case," some note down neighbors' addresses and defects with notarial precision. And there are also those who, with disarming simplicity, assert the right to make a will despite having "just a few cents." Aunt Nicoletta entrusts her diary with a complaint that is both a vent and a verdict: "My doctor treated me lousy, because I'm dying just as if I hadn't had one." Others, however, use the page to expose the defects of others, like Rosettina, who specifies with topographical zeal: "Viale Europa n. 30, third floor, interior 6, without an elevator due to the stingy condominium owners and the incompetent and crooked administrator who hasn't submitted the accounts for at least three years. And there are those who, unwittingly, end up revealing themselves above all, like Mrs. Quintavalla: "Remember that I monitor everything even after I'm dead, especially the tomb, which must be a tomb, not a manhole out of greed with my money. P.S. To be safe, I want an autopsy." Between one line and the next, resignation emerges: "Even death will go badly for me," a final blow against a life of misfortune, and a form of gentle, almost playful acceptance of fate: "As long as the prostate wants."
Every will is a self-portrait. Some are classic. Others are grotesque, poetic, cruel, funny. But everyone, without exception, reveals who we are when no one can answer us. A particular topic, which, for its drafting, can receive the support of professionals, such as those at Agenzia delle Successioni. Booking a consultation is simple, just fill out the form.
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