How would you interpret this phrase “Finito la comedia”?
How would you interpret this phrase “Finito la comedia” mentioned in the tenth from the bottom sentence?
PS: the whole story is about the afterlife.
PS: the excerpt is taken from “Kneller’s Happy Campers” written by an Israeli author, Etgar Keret. And I’m reading an English translation.
Gelfand promised his parents he’d call every day, and right from the first block he started looking for a phone. “Take it easy, man,” I told him. “You been in South America, you been in India, you blew your brains out with a dumdum slug. Stop behaving like a fucking Boy Scout at summer camp.” “Get off my case, Mordy. I’m warning you,” Gelfand snarled and kept driving. “Just look at this place. Get a load of the characters around here. Tell you the truth, I dunno why I came with you.” The people outside looked a lot like the ones in our neighborhood—their eyes kinda dim, and dragging their feet. The only difference was that Gelfand didn’t know them—which was enough to make him paranoid. “I’m not being paranoid. Don’t you get it? They’re all Arabs.” “So what if they’re Arabs?” I asked. “So what? I dunno. Arabs—suicides—doesn’t that psych you out, even a little? What if they figure out we’re Israeli?” “I guess they’ll kill us again. Can’t you get it into your skull they don’t give a flyin’ fuck? They’re dead. We’re dead. Finito la comedia.” “I dunno,” Gelfand muttered. “I don’t like Arabs. It isn’t even politics. It’s something ethnic.” “Tell me something, Uzi. Aren’t you fucked up enough without being a racist too?” “I’m not a racist.” Gelfand squirmed. “I just . . . Know what? Maybe I am a little racist. But just a little.”