Because I was beautiful I was a sort of Don Juan

In 1953, there were rumors of an imminent nationalisation. My father bought the house we lived in (back then it was the property of Iolanda Marculescu, soloist at the Romanian Opera). Soon the singer immigrated to Israel and my father hoped that we could finally get to enter our own home. But our hopes were in vain because all the houses in that part of Bucharest were on the so-called "X file." The apartment was immediately occupied by a Securitate colonel and he kept occupying it for another 25 years without ever paying rent. I lived for 17 years in a room that was pretty famous during those times, on Grigore Alexandrescu Street at no 74, where Nichita used to live. He bunked in with me for a while. My mother had a room in an apartment where several other people also lived (it was customary to share a house due to "lack of space and the need for economy") on aerban Voda street. Only in 1976 I was able to manage something with the help of a few well-placed papers and especially due to a few interviews I gave in Stockholm. I spent a whole summer there and my publisher proposed me to remain for good - I still think I was stupid for not accepting. The interviews gave me a bad reputation in Romania and at a certain point I was even called "Breban the bandit." Although I was never very aggressive in the country, I had the courage to do a few things that were misfortunately "not kosher" in Romania. The result of the near-scandal that my not-so-Christian doings caused was that they finally gave me the house. Just before I got back the house I lived with a Jewish girl for a while until she left for Israel. When the authorities got wind of that, they said I already had a place to stay and I was very close to eviction. It was a memorable day for Nicolae Manolescu, Fanus Neagu, Alexandru Ivasiuc and Nichita Stanescu stayed with me two days to protect me. There was a certain Holopentia, a sort of chief with the Securitate and he wanted the house for himself. He had arranged the visa for Israel for Maria Feldis, the owner, just to get his greedy hands on the property. Well, he failed. A similar story happened to Ion Negoitescu. He had managed to get into a small loft on Calea Victoriei and he called for us when they came to throw him in the street because a "big one" had his eyes on the attic. I remember that Goma and Paleologu also came, we were quite a large bunch. We spent two days and two nights with him and they finally let him be. I think that because we fought together we were so close. Maybe that is why literature was better then, in spite of the censure and obstructions of all kinds. After I finally moved in my house, I hosted a breed of literary subspecies: there were many of my friends but also lots of very promising younger artists that I was very proud of. Every time I returned from Paris, Ioana Craciunescu, Ioan Buduca, Nicolae Manolescu, Dorin Tudoran and many others gathered at my place. We lost many nights talking. We were interested in means of fighting through literature. We were all in the Council of the Writers Union. My friends really supported me during my hardships. Manolescu and a few others fought for my books. Women held an essential place in my life. Whenever I was down on my luck or just lonely there always was a woman to help me through. I was pretty and that made me sorts of a Don Juan. I used to practice all kinds of sports just to look good. I was addicted to the mother figure. All the women I've been with looked like my mother: tall, dark with a straight nose. Women were close to me and I always thought that the feminine intelligence works faster than that of men. Less synthetic perhaps, but faster and closer to reality. I never met an influent woman in my life. I had a few lovers, though; who were "slightly" older than I was. I remember when I was 18, I was involved with a high school teacher. Women protected me with their warmth. They were the only beings who didn't look at me from a political angle. During the long periods of social exile I felt I could walk with dignity only in the presence of women. For me the woman is a freedom area.