"The girl Vajont" of Avoledo Of
Morgan Palmas The word for "The Girl from Vajont" Tullio Avoledo:
grazing.
Pages 302, Einaudi.
Fixed the cover, read: "The past can take you in?". Browse, read: "Iris Chang (1968-2004)." Start. I think now the life of Chang, I know, I think of Nanjing. Another gasp. Start reading.
"It must remain absolutely still" had registered nurse. Scintigraphy, coronaroscopia, holter. They were wrong, and poets. The rust, not love, conquers everything.
He had seen the first time on the bus, the girl, blonde, beautiful, young. Young. A Mischlinge. The case entered the case in his life, in an ordinary day in September. He was a writer of essays, was once also famous, now living in a Möbius strip, with its past. She knew nothing, perhaps, meeting after meeting, however, discovered a dark side, mysteries revealed, half-words. The words became half-time with the discomfort, embarrassment, shyness, almost. Funny, he thought, could be her father to look at the age when the world met, languages, thoughts, jokes, all that he sounded like an affinity far. There were smells, feelings, and that somehow led him out of time.
you came by car, in his car, a Jaguar, surprised. Distances Cangiano, delicate area lit up the thoughts of him, bringing it back into the past, sometimes opening the monsters of pain.
Hospital doctors were to be expected, a script routine, as the lame, the only person who knew the city.
The question that arises Avoledo reading is: where is this and where is the past? Another question: where is the true and where the imagination?
pages are complicated, the reading is not easy, you take possession without haste, the active presence of the player is required, and numerous references and allusions, not less.
Vajont The girl is innocent, then cunningly naive. Sabine But there is not a dream, is not naive, "Do you embrace hard work?". He had moved toward her.
"I was the one who suggested books. Those who were to testify that the past is not repeated, but instead served as textbooks for the new massacre ".
He was not taking his medication regularly, did his own thing. As with the girl Vajont: "Her lips were warm, her skin cold. It was like a shock.
The cripple told him angrily: "It's time you return something." He took her so far had been, not with her. The pact was signed: she stimulated his writing, he gave something ... just sensuality? No. Without a doubt. Everything that followed began. The kitchen did not hear a laugh for thirty years: "Maybe it's better if I take you home." Maybe. He put his hand in his pocket, pulled back the elastic from a roll of banknotes.
"Help!" With his hand to the hospital. It was there, between life and death. The
still thundered in his head the words of the lame.
"The number of people?", "Sabine, you will know what to do." The boat and Switzerland are not far away. Then there is hope. Violence, blood, shit. The woman is made to him after the third rape, "I'll take the kids."
fate was sealed, the circle was closed, we worked in shifts of six hours, digging the graves.
Avoledo is a magician, in the sense of the word, you fools nicely with its literary fiction, which, when you least expect it, confuse you, making you fly on the surface, the dermis, even for a moment. Inoculating the seed reaches the dermis of melancholy, of social problems experienced by the protagonist of the story.
Avoledo has rare qualities of writing. There were more like him.
