The considerations that follow have been written long ago, but I would like to start this blog talking about the book by a friend.
The valleys and places of Bergamo, for me, born and raised in Rome, and Rome soaked, then do not differ much from the lunar landscapes: are the alien. And so I was curious: because if the writer is a skillful storyteller, able to relate to the aliens that common humanity, and offered the key to observe their world and understand it. Indeed. The valleys are facing not only - and not so much - by themselves, descriptions of its landscapes, trails, mountains, views, sunsets, are the characters, their silence and sullenness of almost everyone, even the hottest ones sunnier. And 'this common simplicity, ruggedness, suggesting discreetly without the intrusiveness of excess. In short, sideways, you are fully able to present your valleys. And far from betraying an edginess that no indentations where the sensitivity is breached.
Words that are lost (listening: Rachmaninoff: Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, for chorus, op.31 - part one)
Since the title is a warning: The words are featured in the story. That appears in a work of fiction and it seems trivial, but it is not so: The words here are far more important than the characters, despite their relative predictability and schematic have a good effect, good adhesion to the reality, but above the reach via away, showing the street and uncovering the eyes of the reader. Words that are actually found, rather than lost, words that build, not surprisingly, a story that starts quietly, the words in characters that sentence - word for word - take their body, although more allusive than material, which leaves behind the impression first textbook of scholasticism. Words beginning salaries which an adjective in the adjective acquire fluency and confidence with the history, the beginning shows a human loneliness that those adjectives fill in excess, which give a sense of predictability through the appreciation for the word searched for the term programmatically affecting the imagination of the reader: the existential boredom, psychological distress, feelings of emptiness family have academic flavor. But it is only the beginning: the story spreads, changes, uses the inspiration of other words - the verse of a naive teenage poetry - to take a new look. The words come together, now: their permanent bloom thickens on love and life. In the end, is a tale of love and life, love for life and the characters find themselves instruments of these words. Examination of that pleasure which at first had sought, reaches a dryness of feelings and impressions that do not surrender to emotions. Because the final embrace can excite, in the sense of fulfillment not overindulgent soothing or romantic, and again, without yielding to that hope which seemed easy - trivially - absent in the first few pages. Just hope not easy: the hope that it means struggle, want to battle, at the risk of being injured. It 's the story simple, but a complete dignity.
sky without clouds (listening: Rachmaninoff: Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, for chorus, op.31 - part one)
Love, life, hope is not easy in spite of the premises: again, the scenario, this time much more valligiano, replica historical perspective in the urban and modern. E 'by the suffering that comes this great hope tinged with bitterness, with a roughness that requires a willingness to iron to be reached. The romance of the story allows no room for romance, focusing on the sketch of two boys who meet and are buffeted by events, historical and contingent momentous ones, more small change, but equally crucial - and bad - the latter. Adolescence is never a walk, but sometimes exaggerate! And when exaggerated, or cracks or hardening. Prevail depends on what and how such and so many variables that need a War and Peace to be analyzed with ease. We get there and rebuild the closed character, humble, hardened and ruthless (for themselves and their lives) the two main characters from their actions, their decision, with the cynicism of those who grew up in a hurry, based on the sparse living conditions. But from their closure, humility, strength and ruthlessness gained born - we think - the will and the patience to allow the final dash of hope. A hope, again, that has very little romantic and even less consolation, and everything to do with a sound that originates from the strength of what is simple and yet rooted in a formidable identity. The granite stone is simple, but to withstand the blow of an iron is equipped with an elaborate and precious Murano glass. Life, it seems that you say, is so simple once you have the strength and the patience to let it be at the head of all sue difficoltà, asprezze, rovesci. Averne la forza, però! E ancor più la pazienza.
Stella di Selvino (ascoltando: Bach: Oratorio di Natale op.BWV 248)
Variazione sul tema, digressione, scherzo tra il beffardo e l'agrodolce. Un piccolo bastardello (forse si capisce troppo da subito, la perfezione puzza sempre: ma è un difetto veniale; lui però resta antipatico da morire ;-)) anticipato e punito, ma che sa non prendersela, e in tal modo riscatta un po' il suo irritante atteggiarsi. Un'altra adolescente (all'ombra delle young girls in flower, huh?), but the more glory in bloom bright and radiant, far from problematic (but problems for others should be a Sarah Bravin to give in return ;-)). A story, too, in the mountains, this once genuinely mountain. Including instinctive distrust for the stranger, urbanization, and including the role reversal that would set, with the city that really bewilders remains with the palm of your nose and using. Not coincidentally is also the story that, while just sketched, it has more characters, with a few brushstrokes, too, brought good relief. The emergence of the environment requires people and places made with clarity, precision, and conciseness, the shades must give way to more precise contours: lost for words of importance to themselves and buy for them, providing body accommodating the inhabitants of the places and the places themselves. It 's a story of quartz, no doubt: hard crystals, such as places and their inhabitants. But even iridescent, like the awakening to life of a naughty girl and supposedly soon unrepentant. It 's a story in which nature is about to take over, and where the end comes out as a silent protagonist, but in mind, which observes the characters and the reader is left to observe.
The other side of things (listening: Bach: Christmas Oratorio op.BWV 248)
Okay, here take my feelings. Twenty years ago I would have recognized only two men as more competent than me on court: Clerici and Tommasi, then the tennis rackets, and strange supermuscolari of pay-TV disaffected me: I also want it the Jack Kramer Pro Staff. But the court has stayed with me in the brain. And the story has brought me in a circle, it is obvious that is not on the court, but it is a game of tennis, the match with Robbie and mechanisms are those mechanisms that made me love tennis. You look abbastanza ferrato sulla memoria, quindi penso che tu capisca quello che puoi avermi rimesso in circolo come dicevo :-). Qui il lavoro si sposta ancora di più sui personaggi; o meglio sul personaggio, perché tutte le risorse si addensano sul nostro tennista di ritorno. Un ritratto che stavolta non è netto, ma neppure sfumato: è frastagliato. Contorto. Aggrovigliato. Mica è uno facile Daniel il tennista di ritorno. Non si fa grandi sconti, ma certo si fa parecchi problemi. Eppure non c'è nulla, in lui, dell'intellettuale pippaiolo. Il fatto è che intellettuale lo è; senza aggiunte. Nel senso di chi non abdica al proprio intelletto, di chi non sceglie mai la via più agevole, soprattutto per arrivare a guardarsi dentro and to meet, but, at least in the long run, this does not make a withdrawal on their sterile lamentations. It takes time to develop because intelligence comes the profound sense of hope and conscious, but there inevitably comes: free and not get there. And it takes years and a certain age to get there. Discoloration of scars, and understanding of what has caused. The willingness to take risks to acquire new ones. The hope, then, once again. But, I repeat, no attitudes consoling to be torn into existence, does not grow on trees, do not get to touch of magic wand. With Daniel, out of the ball and get to know dell'allusivo fully expect the novel. And then Robbiati: why is nice the thought of that water to freeze whipping betrayal that asshole. And the other characters in the crown. Honestly, someone like me Mat is instinctively the soul, but then I remember that a friend I've got to Mat-I too, crazy in a different way, but still crazy, and perhaps all - all of us who hope to be healthy mind - there we have a crazy friend. We owe it to have to keep in touch with a freer spirit than ours. And we care because in the end they are much healthier than us. Stay Paola, enigmatic and information than other characters. But is it right: this time is a story of men, and women are not that important accessories.
Old to upstream (listening: Vivaldi: The Estro Armonico Op.3)
the story better. Not for simple aesthetic appreciation, or sensations, or impressions, nor to inspire sympathy for the protagonist, in fact. Meanwhile, because the character Cesco is more successful than these, the one better prepared and organized, analyzed with a precision that goes beyond the suggestions that spreads on his personality: for the man's complete adherence to its environment, and for those valleys and mountains that are relevant here as material not before: through the eyes, memory and thought of their observer. Mentioned in other stories, here we are, are materialized in all their splendor: a little 'how to be on and inside after having admired from afar. Above all, this story is that quality of good literature that you can split the reading head from the heart, then mix. Cesco is not exactly the model of a human being who loves to madness :-). This beyond the fact that I agree fully with the introductory remarks that you make to the story, not talking about Cesco as a model of old, let alone cardinal importance, we are losing, of old age: I could not bear even the twenty Cesco . But the story was able to bypass instinctive rejection of the heart was able to (re) starting the brain until it is fall in love with history and character. And maybe even through the character of man. If Cesco has a real model, maybe I would have done at least digest. Through mechanisms such as my instinctive reading has given way is obvious: under the bark and under the guise of an intelligence Cesco are intense and warm humanity, which in this case only the literary description can reach and dig up and report to light: in real life and everyday would be much more difficult, even unlikely. And there is irony in the former, which belongs to the spirits high. The simplicity is deceptive appearance, often, and only in this sense could be described as plain old Cesco. And, certainly, if you embrace the old climber with emotion of the story is more likely that I would like banging your head against the wall to a real Cesco. This makes a good story: sobering. We are developing our feelings, dissect the patterns of thinking, to relate his fiction with our lives. And finally we have fun.
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