What If You Could Fake Your Death? Lessons from The Late Mattia Pascal

I’ve thought about faking my death.

You probably have too.

Maybe after a bad breakup, a job you hate, or just for the hell of it.

Imagine slipping away, free as a bird. No bills, no obligations, no one asking where you’ve been.

But then what?

Luigi Pirandello’s novel The Late Mattia Pascal follows a man who actually does it.

He ditches his miserable life after everyone assumes he’s dead, only to find out that freedom isn’t what he expected.

Turns out, erasing yourself is the easy part—living with it is the real nightmare.

I’m a cyclist. I get the urge to disappear. Sometimes I just keep pedaling past where I’m supposed to stop. No destination, just legs burning, tires spinning, until the world feels far away.

Mattia Pascal did something similar, but on a much grander, irreversible scale. Here’s what his misadventure teaches us:

1. Running Away Feels Great—For a While

Mattia Pascal thought he had won the damn lottery. Not the kind where you buy a house by the sea and drink yourself to death on expensive whiskey, but the kind where life finally shrugs and says, Alright, buddy, here’s your out. Don’t fuck it up.

His old life was the kind you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy—unless you really hated the guy.

A dead-end job in a library, stacking books nobody read, dust settling on his shoulders like a slow burial.

A wife who had perfected the art of disappointment, each sigh a symphony of regret.

A mother-in-law who could have been a military dictator if she had a uniform. Every day, the same script: wake up, suffer, repeat.

And then, out of nowhere, fate dealt him a wildcard. A mix-up. A corpse they thought was him.

Suddenly, the world had done him a favor—declared him dead while he was still breathing.

So he did what any sane man would do. He took the hint. He grabbed the money, changed his name, bought himself a suit that didn’t smell like failure, and hit the road.

And at first? Beautiful.

No obligations. No family nagging at him. No boss looking over his shoulder like a vulture waiting for him to die at his desk.

It was like taking off your sweaty cycling jersey after a brutal 100-mile ride—the moment when your skin hits the air, and you feel human again.

Like you’ve escaped something rotten.

But relief is a cheap thrill. It fades fast.

At some point, you start waking up in hotel rooms and realizing no one knows your name.

No one expects you anywhere. No one’s waiting for you to come home.

And that’s when it hits you.

It’s not freedom. It’s exile.

2. Loneliness or Freedom?

Absolute freedom sounds good in theory. No boss. No family drama. No taxes (probably).

But when nobody knows you, nobody cares about you either.

Mattia learned that the hard way. He tried starting over, but people kept asking too many questions.

Try renting an apartment when you have no legal identity.

Try making friends when you can’t tell them who you really are.

The thing about freedom?

Too much of it makes you invisible.

3. You Can Escape the Past, But Not Yourself

I’ve tried it. New city, new apartment, new bike. But somehow, I always bring me along. Mattia did too. He thought a fresh identity would fix everything, but turns out, he was still the same confused, unlucky fool—just with a different name.

Faking your death won’t make you smarter, happier, or better at handling life. You’re still stuck with you.

4. People Will Move On Faster Than You Think

While Mattia was out there playing ghost, life didn’t hit pause for him.

The world didn’t stop spinning just because he decided to step off.

His wife? Remarried. Probably happier, too.

His old house? Someone else’s now, filled with the sounds of a life he wasn’t a part of.

His job? Given to another poor bastard stacking books, sighing into the dust, wondering where it all went wrong.

The great tragedy of disappearing isn’t that you leave—it’s that no one waits for you to come back.

We like to believe we matter.

That if we vanished tomorrow, the world would stumble, gasp, maybe even collapse a little.

But that’s just ego talking. The truth is cruel and simple: people move on faster than you think. Faster than you’d like.

You ever wonder how long it would take for people to forget about you?

Try it. Miss a few calls.

Don’t show up for a while.

Watch how the concern fades into indifference, then silence.

A week, maybe two, before they stop asking.

A month before they stop wondering.

And after a year? You’re a passing memory—something they bring up over drinks like an old ghost story.

Mattia learned that the hard way.

One day, you’re a husband, an employee, a person with roots. The next, you’re a name someone used to know.

5. It’s Harder Than It Looks

Faking your death isn’t just about disappearing. It’s about staying disappeared.

Mattia struggled. He couldn’t forge a past. Couldn’t fake a personality. He was a blank slate, and blank slates are suspicious.

Try telling someone you have no family, no history, no records.

Watch how fast they start doubting you. Humans aren’t meant to be ghosts.

6. You Might End Up Worse Off

Mattia eventually realized he’d screwed himself over. He couldn’t go back, and he couldn’t move forward. He was just stuck.

He did what any reasonable man in his situation would do: he tried to reclaim his old life.

But guess what? That was gone too.

His wife had a new husband. His house belonged to someone else.

He wasn’t Mattia Pascal anymore. He was nobody.

7. You’re Probably Better Off Just Taking a Long Bike Ride

Here’s what I’ve learned: If you ever feel like disappearing, don’t fake your death. Just get on a bike. Ride until you can’t feel your legs. Ride until the road swallows you whole. Then come back.

Because the life you have, even if it sucks sometimes, is still yours. And once you throw it away, you might not get it back.

Summary: Lessons from Mattia Pascal’s Mistake

Lesson	Takeaway
Running Away Feels Great—For a While	But it wears off.
Freedom Can Be a Trap	Too much of it makes you invisible.
You Can Escape the Past, But Not Yourself	You always bring your baggage.
People Will Move On Faster Than You Think	You’re not as unforgettable as you think.
It’s Harder Than It Looks	No past = instant suspicion.
You Might End Up Worse Off	You can’t always go back.
Just Take a Long Bike Ride Instead	Disappearing temporarily is enough.

Final Thoughts

I won’t fake my death. Not today. Maybe not ever.

But sometimes, I still like to imagine it. Leaving everything behind, becoming a stranger, watching the world move on without me.

Then I get on my bike and ride. I ride until my legs scream and my lungs burn. And when I finally stop, I realize something.

I was never running away.

I was just trying to find my way back.