REBEL DAYS

REBEL DAYS

Giorni Ribelli (Rebel Days) is the latest book by Andrea Calugi, whom I thank most sincerely along with Manuale di Mari

Andrea Calugi is from Tuscany and from his short biography I like to quote this sentence: he is still searching for his future, among a book to read, a page to write, a song to listen to and a glass of good wine to drink.

It is therefore easy to empathise, and as Andrea searches for his future, he offers us a vision of the future in his book.

A timeless future, a future that we cannot calculate, a future that is far away and at the same time near: all the time I had the perception of a kind of dualism.

I was reading about a future and thinking about a past, a clear representation of how everything changes but how in reality everything remains unchanged.

The days flow by and history repeats itself.

A history from which we do not learn, or do not want to learn.

A history of wars, such as the one that characterises Rebel Days, that invite reflection, that spur the search for Freedom before it is extinguished.

I loved a passage in the book in which Andrea compares the earth to a human body bleeding from the wounds of the bombs and “it hovered dust that slowly, like tears, fell back to the ground, flooding everything and everyone with its weeping.”

I wish everyone had the sensitivity to see the earth bleeding, to feel the pain of the earth, which is pain for everyone.

And I was struck by the thought of one of the characters that “the real fear was that with him would also die all those wonderful memories that should have survived him instead.”

Constantine is considered crazy for his way of thinking, what is the real fear for you?

Do you feel rebellious?

Who or what would counteract your rebel days?

TOMISLAV TAKAČ

TOMISLAV TAKAČ

Tomislav Takač is a writer whom I admire especially for how he shows belief in his dream.

About himself he says: My name is Tomislav Takač and I am a 32-year-old laborer and a beginning writer in Subotica. I started writing 4 years ago and since then I have been writing short stories and have written and published the novel Strigorovu Šuma.

He has been updating me on his progress for a long time, and in the beginning we tried to overcome linguistic obstacles because despite the great help of translators it is not always easy and straightforward to understand a written text without losing its distinctiveness.

However, Tomislav began to translate and write in English as well, so I was able to truly understand the nature of his book Strigorov’s Forest

Originally started as Strigorova Šuma, the book has since been translated and Tomislav has also produced a kind of animated trailer.

Knowing me, you must have guessed that I really liked it immediately, from the first notes of the “soundtrack” … you recognized it too, didn’t you?

Rock aside, I became immediately attached to Erena’s character, I could say that she brought me into Tomislav’s world: a Fantasy world composed of fantastical figures but traversed by fully realistic action protagonists.

The secret of the silver door is the first story Tomislav pointed out to me.

Here instead you can find the first chapter of Yelena, First Blood.

Among the other stories I particularly liked Jack which I also found moving.

Not only Fantasy then, not only Action, not only Science Fiction, but the sum of many different facets that come together transporting the reader on an incredible journey.

And Tomislav concretized this path in every possible way, even working with an artist to turn his story into comics as well.

Coffee is often mentioned.

Regarding the cafes, Tomislav sent me videos showing Sarajevo.

I thank him because it gave me great pleasure: so far my knowledge of Sarajevo was limited to reading Margaret Mazzantini’s Venuto al mondo, for which I thank both Monica and Elisa

Do you know better than I do?

Tomislav was kind enough to send me this video that shows an interesting coffee route in Sarajevo and describes us Bosnian coffee and their Java

I got hooked on this tradition of “fortune-telling,” you know we had already mentioned the reading of the coffee grounds, but in this case the story being told and the star at the bottom of the cup are really enchanting.

I also found fantastic the coincidence that the particular street shown in the video of this Bosnian café was a street dedicated to shoe making

And this is a small view of Subotica, Serbia, Tomislav’s hometown.

HOW EXCITING THE MEN WHO BREAK OUR HEARTS

HOW EXCITING THE MEN WHO BREAK OUR HEARTS

How exciting are the men who break our hearts is the book written by Dianella Bardelli, whom I thank very much.

The first contact I had with Dianella was vocal, I listened to her voice, which struck me even before discovering the main aspect of the book, and even before realizing what I was going to discover as I read: a feature in common between Dianella and Lenore, I think.

Lenore Kandel.

Dianella Bardelli in her book published by Compagnia Editoriale Aliberti writes in a style that is as personal, immersive as it is biographical.

Lenore Kandel is a poet belonging to the Hippie culture. Actually, often the Hippy  movement is called a “counterculture,” but I don’t like to think in those terms.

Lenore in particular stood out for the intensity with which she lived and spread the very essence of her passion.

Passion that finds its most emblematic representation in The Love Book: a text deemed obscene, seized and banned to such an extent that three clerks were brought to trial on charges of dissemination through their bookstores.

San Francisco, 1967.

A year that began with the Human Be-In at Golden Gate Park prelude to the summer remembered by all as the Summer of love.

An era that I had never fully explored until now but Lenore and Dianella showed me in all its philosophy.

Lenore and Dianella, two women, distant in space, time, and color, but close in writing as an expression of their intense passion.

Dianella’s face is framed by golden hair.

Lenore’s face is highlighted by the famous black braids.

Dianella writes novels and poems, and in addition to How Exciting the Men Who Break Our Hearts, she published Near but Far, Altruistic Fish are Reborn Children, Neal’s Psychedelic Bard, Toward Katmandu in Search of Happiness, I’m Going for a Look, 1968.

Lenore, beyond the aforementioned The Love Book left us, among other works, Word Alchemy … a title that I find poetic in itself.

Dianella’s destiny led her to discover Lenore by chance and to be the only woman to tell us about her in Italy.

Lenore’s destiny led her to be on stage at the Human Be-In on January 14, 1967, the only woman to speak, on her thirty-fifth birthday.

You can see her here after the greetings from minute 11:30.

Dianella writes on three blogs:

Spontaneous Poetry 

A writing blog 

A haiku blog 

in addition to countless web collaborations.

Lenore left us this conversation with Carlos Fresneda, in which she also quotes Lawrence Ferlinghetti while you can have a view through Isaac Hernandez’s photos.

Basically, How Exciting the Men Who Break Our Hearts to me spoke about Women, and, in my own personal reading key, I found myself thinking about how our lives breaks us.

Without adding more I leave you with this sentence from the book:
What is not sufficiently illuminated by the light of wisdom fails to move from idealization to concrete realization.

MADRIGAL WITHOUT SOUND

MADRIGAL WITHOUT SOUND

Madrigal Without Sound is the book recommended by Monica to help me dealing with a period of history that is actually not in my league.

Published by Bollati Boringhieri, Madrigal without sound won the 2019 Campiello Prize.

About the author: Andrea Tarabbia has a WordPress blog and I was struck by the header image: a photograph of the entrance to apartment No. 50 on Sadovaja Street, Moscow, taken in the year 2000.

Actually, given the particular construction I should speak of authors because if the Madrigal is soundless, the book on the other hand has multiple voices.

Three different visions take the reader to look at the soul of Carlo Gesualdo, known as Gesualdo da Venosa, famous for being an excellent madrigalist, but also a bloody uxoricide.

Igor Stravinsky, Glenn Watkins, and Gioachino Ardytti.

Igor Stravinsky certainly needs no introduction.

Glenn Watkins is defined as the greatest expert of Gesualdo da Venosa.

Finally, I would define Gioachino Ardytti as the embodiment of the legends around the life of Carlo Gesualdo.

The exchange between Watkins and Stravinskji is epistolary, you know how much I love letters

And it is a prelude to what will happen in Venice in 1960: Monumentum pro Gesualdo da Venosa ad CD annum.

 

 

On the other hand, Andrea Tarabbia ascribes to Gioachino a manuscript narrating the life of Carlo Gesualdo down to the dark details of evil reported in a manner as ruthless as it is functional in portraying the character perhaps with the same criterion of repentance that he intended by extruding it in the famous Pala del Perdono.

 

Franco Battiato also dedicated a song that invites reflection on morality and the actions of men.

The madrigals of Gesualdo, prince of Venosa
Musician murderer of the bride
What does it matter?
He strikes his note
Sweet as a rose.

Strong words indeed.

Carlo Gesualdo’s bride: Maria D’Avalos, was slaughtered at Palazzo San Severo, where they lived, and various legends have been passed down about her ever since.

Certainly Maria remains a constant presence in the narrative of Gesualdo da Venosa’s life, in a sort of seesaw between alter egos and a mixture of good and evil.

I rather like to quote you this sentence from the book:
I think that music is the bride of words, and that every word is a box where all pain, and joy, and life are contained. With sounds we can explode this box, give it more pain, more joy, more life than it already has.

 

I find this to be very true: music for me can amplify states of mind.

What do you think?

THE EIGHT MOUNTAINS

THE EIGHT MOUNTAINS

The Eight Mountains is both a literary and cinematic success.

Again I owe the reading to Monica and I hope that the movie will not disappoint me as it often happens when I watch movies based on books.

I heard a lot about The Eight Mountains with reference to male friendship or more precisely manly friendship.

Of course The Eight Mountains tells about mountains, as well as it tells about a Friendship of the kind we should all be privileged to experience in life.

However, the prevailing reflection that I retain after reading this book is another.

Beyond the powerful and unrelenting beauty of the mountain, I was impressed by its role within the story in the father-son relationship.

The mountain is typically silence; instead, I read it in this book as the only dialogue to patch up a deep generational and emotional incommunicability.

Sometimes we love totally, we love with a love written even in our DNA, yet we do not know how to show it.

This kind of love is blatantly obvious to those who can observe it as uninvolved spectators and yet it is hidden from the eyes of those with too close a perspective that paradoxically creates a distance.

Am I wrong?
Perhaps this view is entirely personal.

Have you read the book?
Written by Paolo Cognetti and published by Einaudi in 2016.
Strega Prize 2017.

Or have you seen the movie?
Directed by Charlotte Vandermeersch and Felix Van groeningen in 2021.
Jury prize at the Cannes Film Festival 2022. 
David di Donatello for best film 2023. 

An old Nepalese man told me about the eight mountains …

The man picked up a stick with which he drew a circle in the ground. It came out perfect; you could tell he was used to drawing them. Then, within the circle, he drew a diameter, and then a second perpendicular to the first, and then a third and fourth along the bisectors, resulting in a wheel with eight spokes. I thought that, having to arrive at that figure, I would start from a cross, but it was typical for an Asian to start from the circle

– Have you ever seen a drawing like that? – he asked me.

– Yes, – I answered. – In the mandala.

– Right, – he said. – We say that at the center of the world is a very high mountain, Sumeru. Around Sumeru there are eight mountains and eight seas. This is the world for us.

In saying this he drew, out of the wheel, a small point for each ray, and then a small wave between each point. Eight mountains and eight seas. Finally he made a crown around the center of the wheel, which could be, I thought, the snowy summit of Sumeru. He pointed the stick at the center and concluded, -And let’s say: will the person who went around the eight mountains have learned more, or the person who made it to the top of Mount Sumeru?

In your opinion?

FAME D’ARIA – HUNGER FOR AIR

FAME D’ARIA – HUNGER FOR AIR

Fame d’aria – Hunger for air is the latest book by Daniele Mencarelli published by Mondadori.

Daniele Mencarelli has needed no introduction for a while now.

Fame d’aria – Hunger for air appealed to me because of the structure, the writing and the way in which in real time the reader gets the full load of the eighteen years of life with Jacopo.

Jacopo is not the main character; Jacopo is Peter’s son, Pete is a man.

I say just a man because that is what I thought as I got to know him one line after another.

Pete is not a superhero, he is not a champion, he is not even an example. Peter is simply a person, a human being, as are all those who try to behave in the right way against the waves of the storm that is life: an incessant and continuous lashing that hits inexorably.

Also for this reading I thank Monica, and then I also say thank you to Luciana for pointing me to the meeting with the writer organized by The Pleasure of Telling

In this way I was able to listen directly to Daniele Mencarelli’s words and find out how his need to tell this story came about.

About six years ago he met a Peter and began to put the pieces together, details that seem to have no importance until the accumulation becomes an element that turns into writing, thinking about how to translate a memory “saved with a name” as if it were a document that has the power to illuminate the path to which to give life.

The immersion inside a life that was not his own was brutal for Daniele Mencarelli; no frieze was allowed to hide the disfigurement that always had to prevail.

In this book the author shifted to the third person while always keeping the present tense because he likes to give the impression that the events happen as they are read because he feels they are less distant.

I must say that the goal was fully achieved because even me as a reader felt literally inside the story.

The novel has an antecedent: in 2000 while going for a beer, Peter meets Bianca. They recognize each other and it is love at first sight.

In 2023 Pietro is a 50-year-old man and his car breaks down in Molise, with him there isn’t Bianca, there is his son Jacopo who is 18 years old and unfortunately has very low-functioning autism.

The village where they stop to look for a mechanic: Sant’Anna del Sannio does not exist in reality although it resembles many places that each of us can identify.

Pete and Jacopo are headed to Puglia where Bianca is waiting for them to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary.

The unexpected lasts three days and revolves around three characters: Oliviero the mechanic, Agata the bar owner, and Gaia. Thanks to her, we enter the father’s inner world and discover everything that families like theirs lack.

Basic seed: the scene as a moment of unveiling the human exactly as I was telling you about the Peter who I discovered while reading.

Daniele Mencarelli was born as a poet, poetry is able to name things, it captures the depth with respect to the scene. Narrative, on the other hand, is architecture of scenes that then takes the form of plot and psychological arc of the characters.

In fact, poetry should not be “strict poetic language,” but should live within the elements of the novel form.

Literature is a gesture that is meant to bear witness.

These words of Daniele Mencarelli find a particular embodiment in the book Fame d’aria – Hunger for air , I think.

But what struck me most was to learn about the author’s personal “hunger for air.”

Over-inked pages that give a sense of claustrophobia.

From this “hunger for air” literally comes the need to open up vertical spaces in the horizontal narrative.

The need to perceive much presence of white, that is, need to break the sentence and go to the head as if it were a need for air.

Reasoning as a poet in certain moments of the human you arrive with a broken speech. In the highest places of the human one arrives only with lyric.

A personal hunger for air.

How about you? When do you feel your hunger for air?

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