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"balls of bread "Mastrocola

Of Morgan Palmas

The word for "bread balls" by Paola Mastrocola: ocean.

Pages 237, Bloomsbury Publishing.

Emilia is a forty year old ready for summer vacation starts well, his new baby sitter does not speak Portuguese and Italian languages \u200b\u200bbrought along a sewing machine. Directorate Sardinia. A girl of six months, an eleven year old son and a husband engineer in some remote place in India to open a new branch, but that call every day.

Is not life just as he dreamed, or rather, it is not bad, but it lacks something, but enough to review an incredible sight before my eyes accadutole years earlier, above the sea level at a certain point, while demand pulses, "I wonder what lies beneath."

First day at sea, so the approach, while his son Olli fishing, like every year. If you do not draw, read or draw. Only.

Lucinda, the babysitter, is dedicated to the sewing machine run-ru, ru-run, seems to have no clear concept for which she should deal with what was asked, coming from Portugal.

Friends usual Victoria are almost all present, the friend who is wise in words as to the question of the animal, "So when you come to see the goat?".

Marina is in good company with Olli. The world of goats is not known in the collective, let alone in the thinking of Emily, get used to physical contact with a goat requires curiosity and humble gestures that can improve day after day and find their natural size. An animal in the life of a family is "another" with many "others" a factor to consider because it requires human attention, that perhaps working for eleven months of the year is often forgotten. A full day on the rocks, that's the goal of Emilia. Uncluttered as it happens in life. And the fear increases.

The existence of other processes, its seems to stop, although the complaints inner space, a space that seems busy objects and responsibilities. No, the goat could no longer hold. Lucinda intervenes with a stunning proposal: "We are offering all of you to go to live with her. He says there were, you have a very big house that takes half closed. " Do not know if it will really need to think about it calmly, it is a complex choice. The end can only be a beautiful circle that closes, it all comes back now.

I read "The hen flying" of Mastrocola, and convinced me more than "balls of bread," a novel that slips in easily, without shine. It is a book ocean, to take to sea, in fact. A docile company with few pretensions.

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of" The years speed "of Abate

Of Morgan Palmas

The adjective for "Fast Years" by Carmine Abate poignant.

Pages 243, Mondadori.

"You come with me tomorrow morning [...] is the best track coach in Calabria. Bring your running shoes. "

was shortly before the beginning of the school, as Anna. In her music was intrinsic to the mode of expression, emotions in the bowels, over the years, a growing passion. A letter addressed to Lucio Battisti broke the fantasies and the uncertainties of Nicholas, as the songs of Rino Gaetano. A forced stay at home because of an accident allowed the two to get to know more.

After a long time it was decided to look for, where it was over? The sister could help, but not before Saturday. The days had been used to contact you and understand that perhaps was not the case yet to meet. Nicholas was certainly not happy.

The letters had been a secret and half to learn, to discover its deepest secrets. A cowardly act, but the desire to taste the soul of his thoughts did not cease, even worse with time.

Athletics consoled him and physical outbursts are the most congenial to quell the instincts of rebellion, to train twice a day.

"They looked into his eyes with his hands still tight. Then Anna said, - "Hello, then - and opened the door."

natural affinity for one night before the train, before there was a summer away. Closeness and distance the two terms seem more appropriate for their love.

and imitate his signature was the beginning of the end, even if Capocolò had one wish, it was the address. She had gone to Florence after graduation, he followed the dream of a degree in Literature. Meanwhile, his University, near and far.

was time to return what had kept slyly: "Castel Beseno, thinks Nicola, I arrived." Fourteen years not a few.

"Pregnant, Nicole. I'm pregnant. "

He had found, the help of an old friend ... was essential. And his daughter, Lorena, seemed hesitant but then saw the mother's wishes, he understood the silence.

Abate remains a mature storyteller, skilled in weaving as well as passionate in creating a bridge between two lovers who meet after many years. The first part of the book may seem less exciting of the second, not give up, continue to the end.

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" Extending the domain of the struggle "of Houellebecq

Of Morgan Palmas

The adjective "Extending the domain of fight "by Michel Houellebecq: disappointing.

Pages 152, Bompiani [Translated by Sergio Claudio Perroni]

"Friday evening I went to a party at the home of a colleague," begins Houellebecq's first novel. Perhaps alcohol, perhaps in the streets all the same, the hero forgets where he parked the car. He decides to make a false complaint. Without a car, only, only because she has no friends. He wanted to see a lot of possibilities for life and then finds himself surrounded by emptiness which can be regarded as degenerative, the choice of writing a novel is a way to recall and clarify. If the job as an analyst programmer puts in a decent position in society, not its charm and its beauty does not lead him to be for women a "better than nothing" distressing situation. There was a story, with Véronique, then it's over. The author deals directly with the reader, it is as an equal, explains that is not going to theorize anything, he wants to create a situation of harsh reality, a single existence.

has a job for his company, training staff in the Ministry of Agriculture on a particular software, the first contact to create a collaborative bridge is a girl with a diploma in computer science and aggressive. The vision of people and situations are cynical and never watered down.

The meetings with the heads of the Ministry. New business and social situations, but the principle is respected: the enthusiasm to go to the disappointment. Everything changes, however, a slight mutation, almost resigned, not the degrees of freedom, but rather a narrow band through which life is annihilated by the day. It is certainly a shift due to the work that establishes a different vein, Rouen is the same in Paris.

"Then I see that all these people seem satisfied with himself and the universe, it is surprising and a little 'obscene'.

Véronique was not satisfied, but in analysis, psychoanalysis and the increasingly transformed into a "whore from self-delusion." Clarity on feelings and relationships attractive from the point of view found in the erotic protagonist a categorical and extreme top position, supported by experience and ideas without any delay.

followed the couple, to the dunes, facing the sea: "The blood rule. Everything changes, yet, a mutation, however slight, still, the emotions are measured and predictable. The clinic then becomes a possible solution ...

Houellebecq, loved by many critics, is overrated, its not necessary to "Extending the domain of the struggle" to learn about thoughts and feelings expressed in the best way of Camus or Jean Cocteau. Nothing original.

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"Life meant"

Of Morgan Palmas

The word for "life thinking" by Robert Nozick: deep.

Pages 316, BUR [Translated by Giulia Boringhieri].

The contradiction that I have lived between yesterday and today was re-read the essay on Nozick's words literally flying, feeding in a hurry, could not be 316 pages with different reflections. An experiment. The astonishing fact is that I tried to capture the essence without meditation, without thought of consequences to follow, a reading that might seem superficial but that was enlightening: He had not read Nozick, the charm of some of his ideas to me hit, boom, I said. I did not want and could not be exhaustive, but focus on instinct ability to absorb concepts with coarseness. Young people would say, "What trip." And it was really a trip.

Years ago, like many others, I did argue in my head with John Rawls, a comparison of "Anarchy, State and Utopia" and "A Theory of Justice "was one of the challenges that the more I have squeezed your brains, you're among the hills and sometimes dell'iperuranio crushed to the ground with the devastating reality of the events of the globe. The coincidence is that disarming year I tried to addentrami in the territories of both philosophical and one died before then, months later, another. I can not say that was a blow to me, yet I was so attached to their theories, the antipodes often, that I was deeply impressed.

Nozick was a liberal and libertarian "thought life" recanted some of his theories, becoming almost intimate, indulging in personal memories. Life philosophy. It was not a pure political philosopher, his interests ranged in different sectors, funny to read what the role of parents or meditate on the meaning of faith, the nature of love or on the ability to concentrate. It is not a simple book, moreover, as Nozick's no text, you can proceed in the first part with ease, but it gets harder in the second part of the essay, in particular from Chapter XVII: "The matrix of reality."

"To see that there are more important things of pleasure or happiness we can also consider a life that has these two things but for the the rest is empty, only a life of foolish pleasure, satisfaction, beef, frivolous entertainment, a happy life but superficial. - It's better - John Stuart Mill wrote, - be a man unhappy that a fool satisfied -. And although the best would probably be satisfied with a Socrates, happiness is to have the depth to get the second we would be willing to give up a bit 'of the first. "

If you think that death or sexuality, the emotions and the wisdom, political or theological issues are serious and not very interesting for you, not to touch "life thinking" Nozick, will not understand a damn and it is likely that boredom will pervade, if, on the contrary, I like questions about life in the round, please be aware that Nozick is ready to challenge you, leave it to pieces is the least that can happen to you.

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Nozick's "Evil Thoughts" Scapin

Of Morgan Palmas

The word for "bad thoughts" Virgilio Scapin: nostalgic.

Pages 169, Blacks Pozza Editore.

I decided on Saturday and Sunday to do something different, read the books I've read and which I think are essential, also face non-fiction texts or in English.

Today I propose "Evil Thoughts" by Virgilio Scapin, an author who had no great national fortune, died a few years ago, was a well-known book in my province here in Vicenza. His library, close to Piazza dei Signori, was with him for decades, a meeting point for many fans of literature. I remember the days of high school, when the Friday or Saturday afternoon I escaped not uncommon in the city, away from my village in the hills, and enter into his library, I like to listen while I pretended to read a book, although he spoke with other , with its friendly irony.

"Evil Thoughts" is a collection of stories that begins:

"The poor writer

There once was a poor writer who was reduced in this miserable state because he would not follow the call of the market. The editors asked him books of war and he was determined to bring peace textures, players threw themselves headlong into the sull'aldiquà books and he wrote stories of the afterlife. "

A selection of texts that narrate his youth training, life in the city and some people that have been animated, as stated in the note to the editor of the book.

There were gangs of kids who had a name depending on the neighborhood where they lived, the sling could not always be the object was a vital defense, lucky people who lived in the suburbs. There was a reason.

There was a ceremony to be observed and the Vice-fascist check that everything was done in the most perfect conceivable, you could not allow burr shape and the medals were an added value, whose meaning was not only symbolic.

What was the Christmas many years ago? The poor were followed, no one is fasting. Bertino dreamed the fat lady, having a range in March, the circus and gave him an unexpected joy.

Potatoes tan no longer exist, yet were the basis for a tasty soup that Isolina prepared with love, a country tradition that so many have forgotten.

Tales of Scapin fragments are dotted with great skill, a skill that only a Vicenza could develop, knowing the corners of the city and the local mentality. In its pages the jump is imperious, a world that no longer exists, so the word could not be nostalgic. There are pages

politely ironic as he was in reality, as the story "of the turkey and Montale Pozza Blacks." In another story we talk about John Comisso, finding an event, perhaps unknown to many. But it also speaks to Parise, who also Vicenza, and the story of the architect, known to aficionados Sillabari. Today would be unbelievable to many of the custom chicken wings for girls ugly, truth or myth?

I can not speak objectively of Scapin, forgive me. I trained well on its pages when I was young, I risk a ridiculous adulation.

If you want to know a slice of life of a province in the Veneto region were formed before all the contemporary political and economic superstructure, well, you do not have to read that "bad thoughts".

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"The potter's field" Camilleri

Di Morgan Palmas

The word for "The potter's field" by Andrea Camilleri: compelling.

Pages 280, Sellerio Publisher.

"The Mafia took over tonight."

"But who says?."

"And what he wanted him to go and end up in our unfortunate country? A sneaky today, a sneaky tomorrow, and we got to this point. Please give me a glass of water? ".

The application to become Minister of the troubled, strong was the storm that was banging the shutters, the dream seemed a reality.

"I takes at least say how he found the corpse? ".

It would take two hours before the arrival of the Scientific, the prosecutor and the coroner, after the bag was gone.

Mr. Jackson seemed confused and contradictory responses mentioned were many hesitations, even with others. The woman turned out to be Dolores Alfano and garbage was found in apparently trivial information only.

"He put a hand 'n bag, pulled out a sheet, laid it beside the bag." And "Mimi Pirch copy he'd made 'na littre accussi personal accussi reserved, Galluzzo?". There is the answer.

The mysterious lady came to Montalbano, stating that his real last name was different, it seemed clear that the postcard was not written by her husband and convinced him to proceed with feminine charm. He had presented to board ...

What was the role of John? And Balduccio? Celebrities - not alone - that complicate the course of its investigations. A newspaper article seemed to clarify the situation, then: "A merchant vigatese fifty-two years, Philip Alfano, was yesterday ...."

A Montalbano internalizes psychology with more awareness, more educated than in other novels by Camilleri. This is one of his most successful novels, no doubt.

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"The secret of Morbillaio" by Giovanelli

The word for "The secret of Morbillaio" Danilo Giovanelli: insane.

Pages 179, Edizioni XII.

The Morbillaio, Saturnetto Vinceslovo nickname, was born in 1888 to a peasant family and had immediately understood that he loved the culture, away from the habits of the entire family tree. Unfortunately died young, at thirty-three, his funeral epitaph:

Here I lie

That I was flesh and blood

What was

polenta and pour

But nothing freaks me.

He was a dedicated school, which in that territory seemed questionable from the start something new.

Nerd, bigiando a day of classes, went to the Cove, "Password?". It was not the only Covo, the other company did.

few were left in class and the teacher had noticed Luglino Tomino reluctantly, also reflecting on the meaning of "minds in the middle" and "bleating". However, it must engage the five remaining students to honor the duty. The ruins of

Saturnetto Vinceslovo was donated by the Friends of the City Morbillaio, the association created by some of the first students of the school named after him. The polenta had a fundamental significance for them, equal to that of the deceased poet. And then local competitions in poetry, publications, everything up to remember their example. The association's founder was Grazianino Sumello, Vice Petronio mitochondria, while Minzi Rich held the position of clerk to the archive.

dawned a tape, the children were afraid, inside there was a yellowed piece of paper ... what do with it? Especially because there was a suspicion, a technology was used for this purpose.

"Your grandfather is gone from the Mona Lisa, Toad. It just happened just went into the cellar, rummaging in the trunk. " The mystery deepens.

The Mona Lisa was an old friend of Morbillaio, to a certain point. Wineries could be the real answer to the dilemma?

Somebody said that you had to do some photography, but it was hard to hide it then, how he would explain the creation of the image? In addition, Grazianino Sumello was no fool, knew his business, but the solution was just around the corner, was kept a secret.

The fantasy novel by Danilo Giovanelli m'è seemed insane in the sense of absurdity, an absurdity that can be viewed in terms of both ironic incorporation. A book that flows with a safe and thoughtful writing, it could also very curious youngsters, encouraging them to read through a clear contemporary nature of some aspects. The illustrations are also of Giovanelli.

If you want to read a short story that will gladden a few hours allowing you to smile and reflect, in a marriage certainly not trivial, this is the right book for you.

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"Metro Milan Melissa

Of Morgan Palmas

The adjective for "Metro Milan's Paolo Melissa: impressionistic.

Pages 153, Historica.

A manual for conquering a city, if that is a "foreign" knows that space and how spaces are not discounted for those who always lived in the same place. Acknowledgement unclear for those who have not had the experience of facing a new phase of existence in a different city, far from suffering and from past practices.

If you land in Milan, we learn immediately that the croissants are not so widespread, there are the pastries. Here's arrival in the city of Milan by Paolo Melissa, who, despite the state of confusion, immediately begins to feel the taste differs from the meter of Naples, where it came from.

"Travel aboard a subway car is a variable of walking, in which the actions of seeing, dell'afferrare are transferred and liabilities: prelude and run in parallel."

The Milan metro network is 74.6 km in total, three lines: the Red, the Green, Yellow. Stories of lives that cross and touch every day, no questions raised that are mixed with eyes and half smile.

Melissa, following a tradition that has its origins French impressionism, consisting of light and bright instinctive suggestion peranco He peppered with irony Naples, never destined to eclipse, perhaps, decide to explore the Milan underground crossing borders cautious habit of mind and hasty actions.

Imagine fourteen years, some seem to play, others in the most egregious of the period, consolidating some faculty dormant: they act as a warning and exploration of self respect in the world.

The findings are numerous: the legend of the dragon that would live in the famous lake, the entry of Margaret of Austria to Milan to Porta Romana, the readings of passengers in cars.

"Access the meter to bring along a wooden chair, elegant and not too heavy. Find a space, place the chair and sit down. If someone is watching you, or better, I spoke to him, you say you like to travel comfortable. " The irony of Naples I mentioned, you'll find throughout the book, sometimes subtle, not his stomach, perhaps you Melissi milanesizzato? But even a more grievous, which is complex, trying to peer into the unseen, not considered, the non-obvious.

"Metro Milano" is a book not to be missed, not only for the residents.

"When you go out to the surface a deep breath and appreciate what you see ...

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" We'll make revenge "Nori

Of Morgan Palmas

The word for "We'll make revenge" by Paolo Nori: tiring.

Pages 191, Feltrinelli.

"What happened, really, in 1960, in Reggio Emilia?"

The lexicon UTET said.

"I for a time I was convinced that he opposes a divorce"

childhood memory, the teacher and the brother who explain what marriage is an indissoluble bond.

"names"

Documents

police and the judiciary. Cafaro.

Nori's book is structured as follows: title and narration, titles and narration. If a point of view of content is a challenging text, bringing to the attention of readers the facts that are almost unknown to many Italians, on the plus side linked to reading, I was not satisfied, I have come to the last page of the book tired. A thought

presses the other touching closely the political, personal memories, reflections on the history or the Italian countryside, the horse shows ... Everything and nothing? Yes Too much of everything, too much dispersion, fragmentation continues, how to start a meal and someone takes away your plate before you can use a fork to lay off about food. There is no taste that way.

There are some scenes really take that in some way redeem the book, but not enough.

I am sorry to crush an author who has given his best in such books as, among others, "The four Pavlov's dogs" or "Devils", but "We'll make revenge" has really disappointed.

I will stop here.

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"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.

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"The land of my soul" Carlotto

Of Morgan Palmas

The word for "The land of my soul" by Massimo Carlotto: ipercoinvolgente .

Pages 153, Editions and / o.

"I have cancer," said Benjamin. "I know.

"I wonder what's the other way?", "Nothing."

I listened. Then Maureen and I accompanied him to the airport.

was born in Via Novara 125, Milan, before the declaration of war by Mussolini. So hungry. The mother is a common activity, the father a night watchman. I remember: 1951, Tuberculosis, Torino. Time flies, fourteen years, first sexual experience, slap father of John. In 1956, employment as a gardener, the whole family moved to Ponte Tresa, in the mountains on the border with Switzerland, not far from Lugano. Here begins the adventure of life ol'avventura of life, he meets the world of contraband cigarettes, coffee, gold, furs, with bricolle, but not limited to, the ways we learn in the field.

Sann's meeting with Ricky, at that time, it appears that awareness of his ignorance, in the third grade prevents a certain freedom, as long as you do not know a guy like Henry. Reading opens up worlds previously unthinkable. The world of

shoulder inserts consists of gestures, rituals, words, silences. But he has ideas and wants to go further, not content. Here's the pig, which is not the pig, well understood ... time flies, summer 1967, he met Sonia and dedication "Every morning." Get engaged and grant, never completely.

smuggling sea is another thing, Sicily, Venice, comes to Mikrolimano, east of Piraeus.

"The underworld is like this: until the day before you're the best and most reliable, but if you make a mistake that loses money, the gang becomes a poor bastard and if you do not take a bullet in the head you are fortunate."

Relations with Sonia are increasingly difficult, he plunges into nature by hiding in the mountains with the old shepherd quiet, peaceful life, not enough. Ends up in jail in Trieste and then by road traffic stones and whiskey. The Cyprus is Lebanon is a turning point, you can drop down very low. His mother dies, another turning point. A dinner in Genoa opens new scenarios, new direction: Spain, the Tortuga.

shifting daily, new companions of lawlessness, women still desire an illusion of peace. Escape to Marseille and back to Genoa. Money earned and money lost.

Sonia is there in the village, four years of "normal" life, time flies. In a Dalila night knows, she's a woman, or ... almost that entertains people, and not only ... the nails him twelve years imprisonment. A kidney cancer, another turning point. Escape to Punta Sabbioni, but police identified him and sends him to the Isle of Pianosa, then Padua. You can become a UF or MD, both conditions are not a delight. The prison is hard, there also gestures, rituals, words, silences, including the jailers. AIDS disrupts the detainees, Benjamin tries to figure out what to do. Maurizio Camardi they met in the theater and the sentence ends in 1991. Life can not change, constantly meets itself, the ghosts are waiting. Now men and weapons make it a lot, with Croatia.

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Vanni in his life, 55 years of racing. Time flies. It ends at Feltham, manager of the escort team hockey, everything becomes clearer, more trivially true.

"I'm getting weaker," he said.

Massimo Carlotto, an author of whom I had not read anything, I was bewitched. For now over and out. Rush to the library or library to buy this fucking book. Now.

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"Nuraiò devils" of Soriga

Of Morgan Palmas

The adjective "Fiends of Nuraiò" Flavio Soriga: bubbly.

Pages 160, the mistral.

credentials were excellent for this collection of short stories, including a Calvino Prize for unpublished works in 2000. They were.

enthusiastic Foreword by Lella Costa, bombastic preface to the first edition of Silvana Grasso, no later than in the book, I make a dip in the pool of Soriga pike.

A Don Giovanni twenties that explores the length and breadth of Europe with fire in his eyes, Holland seems to have found peace, even love, if you did not live again that boor Argentine better pizzas Cubeddu Cristina meets, how long, "So, we have become famous, eh?" if two people are talking about you, you're nobody, not even if they do in ten, if the whole country and the surrounding area knows what you could do in the Palio of the Assumption, then the matter is serious and inviting, defeatist, what does this mean? He did not know before, now even the sky for example is the defeatist. The not knowing travels hand in hand with idolatry?; In eight out of a gray van, they said that the Duce's got more hard, the mother told them she had gone to the country her son ... "Peppeddu, but you know what want these shirts? ", these shirts would bring the sons of Sebastian Sanna to give castor oil.

Tales Soriga will engulf one another with a single discriminant: Nuraiò, an imaginary country not far from Casteddu, capital of Sardinia.

"Nuraiò on fire! Nuraiò in flames, "cried Franchino, running half naked through the streets, but Uncle John loves the silence, away from the worms that pierce the country to continue his peace of mind: the brambles, among the trees of juniper and rock rose loves to dive in nature, the beach front of Rush.

The words fly swiftly, grammar is not an impediment, but an added value, with licenses and freedom that is well wedged into the stories. The adjective suitable for the collection of Soriga it is bubbly, this does not mean you need pleasure, because after five six stories wonder no longer has the same initial force, the writer points to the amazement, he is a slave, so each new character can not enjoy "normal", is characterized to blindly follow the word mentioned.

Here are two sides of "devils Nuraiò" On the one hand, the stories are read and involving, on the other hand, a static scheme that is repeated at a casual glance may not seem obvious, contrary to those seeking to go further, exploring the less obvious aspects of writing, as in the last pages, a provocation for literary closure bubbly.

sometimes use the Sardinian language makes it even more real situations, which collapsed in the everyday life of a small country, but would be even more attractive to deepen such a groove, in which - other writers have worked so hard on the relationship Sardinians Cagliari / Casteddu, to be clear - the possibilities in the collection of Soriga were numerous. Nuraiò seems, ultimately, less Sardinian than some critics have imagined, unfortunately, not as devils and demons.

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"precarious and life everlasting love" Desiati

Of Morgan Palmas

L 'adjective "precarious life and eternal love" Mario Desiati: neurotic.

Pages 217, Mondadori.

Martin Bux, called by more than Martin, is from Sicily, Castiglione, near Sigonella. Humble origins, in the area Carmine, the worst. Up to fifteen years of Martin's family leads a regular life dramatically, the father runs a small shop in school textbooks, without much hard work and economic aims, the mother takes care of the house, despite early to give any sign of madness, inspiration religious. An unforeseen event disrupts the family, fleeing to Rome. Laurentino 38, a suburb of the capital. The planes are already entered in Martin's life in Sicily sees them, examines them, even in the new life. The years pass and Toni know, right away a shiver of intent reflected in their intractable differences. Skin, fucks, smells. The mother is always the craziest, Martin decides to go live with Toni, in an apartment in Via dei Volsci, San Lorenzo, rent paid by her family: 'We'll help you for the first few months. " Martin interrupted his studies to face life with Toni, seeking a job, it ends in a call center, six euro per hour. The aircraft passed low over the city, Toni leaves for Africa, Robert, a Senegalese Bingobongo, Martin becomes the new roommate. The two lovers write letters, he knows Marcella Villa Mirafiori, faculty of philosophy. Skin, fucks, smells and memories. Remember also in Sicily, the stationery. The work at the call center continues to be a shit. Letters between Toni and Martin, near and far: "I hate because I miss you." "I hate you because you're there."

Union, meetings, Toni's scar starts to burn, July 19, 1943 in San Lorenzo. Africa, Toni, Genoa, Toni, flesh and blood, Toni, war, Toni. Marcella, Robert, Armida, the sister of Robert. Africa still, bloody Africa.

The family of Toni Armida maybe it can help, maybe. "It's normal if you see another girl now," says his mother. Martin flees the house.

"Slow, but I feel it all in" bland. Tel. Marcella.

Writing Desiati so, neurotic, the spatial dimension is overwhelmed by the writing. A flood of images that affect the senses. A reminder: you return to the departure of Toni, the plane, damn planes. Everything is closed, a circle of unexpected inevitability.

Desiati Mario is a young Italian writer states, in "precarious life and eternal love" fails to make inroads into the reader, too many stereotypes, too extreme, too many coincidences, the politically incorrect language is not a means but becomes an end, choose the latter weak. A book that if it were not for the final would be a reading without panache, dispersed in fragments, as well as unstructured narrative engineering.

's eye view of Martin runs, but it is unlikely the neurotic writing with a similar epilogue, would have been more congenial to a detached view of reality.

"The land of unhappy wives, ever Desiati and advice, has reached very different.

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"Neither here nor elsewhere" Carofiglio

Of Morgan Palmas

The adjective for "Neither here nor elsewhere" Gianrico Carofiglio: hooked.

Pages 160, Laterza.

There has never happened to meet an old friend after many years? Perhaps with a courteous detachment: 'Hello', 'hello', and so, he on the one hand, and you another. Where to live is over, you wonder. And in no particular order other questions: married, children, work, happy or not.

Three old friends, in a case of fate, meet, two decades later. A Bari excuse is a dinner, Paul came back, you can not miss such an occasion. You find yourself in a car with two of them, you're not happy, but there you are, you are screwed. We are friends but not we are friends. Go to dinner and talking about the memories are tied to other memories, more intimate. Things you thought for years. The Free Library where he read, the university, dreams and illusions.

Paul lives in Chicago, who has not had to leave the party, who had to stay can be found across the ocean. The feelings I have are confused, confused because even though I had read an article on attention and awareness, I have the feeling of being one who lives without realizing it. What was

Bari at the end of the 70s, we wonder, cinemas, clubs, neighborhoods and Bianca, her boobs still remember me. AIDS! What a story. Memories are a river in flood, the city becomes a more vibrant city, where space is structured, not only for the navigator. And if those who forget the sgagliozze Paul ... and still with that little bottle of brandy. And now that I do remember, Randy I had changed my life that day on Corso Cavour. How to tell my? Mom told me the story of Santa Claus and Saint Nicholas. We pass Orazio Flacco in high school and head to the Fiera del Levante. The colors are very proud of Bari night, the sky mavi as ever I saw in other places. The dazzling sea on certain days, like the shops of Via Putignani, a frontier line in the center of the city. You

you mad at mom because we had to attend only certain beaches, while he fucked viral hepatitis that could get caught. The law of the hard or recklessly. As the bastard of the gym, he? Uhm. I wonder if it still tells the story of the girl in the Bari Nord exit, one that is accompanied by the unknown, taking a comb of bone in his hand.

And away by car, scoured! Giampiero says: "In the shit up to your neck if you do not run away," but you see, I had to sit at home comfortable, and instead the blood to escape. "As we came out great". I hate the term "great", I think. "Why the hell not react?" He says. Well, then empty the bag. The conscience cries his rights after years.

the 3:45 am, Piazza Moro. Giampiero greets us. "Want to take a walk?" I nodded. Daria, I knew, could not be otherwise, Daria ... and Claire. At one time not lived, could be real time. Sometimes it is just stupid.

With the cake in my hand I think maybe I did not want to see you, maybe.

"Neither here nor elsewhere" Carofiglio is the story of three old friends who meet in Bari, a city that in some ways the city can be for all of us, just find out how.

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Final preparations before total immersion in the literature

As mentioned in previous posts, I made a choice that will affect me the time and mind for a few months to read a book a day, review it and write a poem. A stupid
genuine madness might say. Yes, it is. But I also explained the reasons for this choice . I need to cheer after years of insecurity and vicissitudes. What better way to bring it in act if not doing what they like?
In the end, mind you, is a temporary pause innocent, otherwise it is total despair, anger and the serious possibility of not having his hand in his will.
I already wrote that mine is a privileged position, should not be repeated, I think. I still have little savings to get to when I return to send resumes to the right and left. I want to enjoy this brief period of freedom.

I have already chosen the first ten books. Given the situation, it is clear, all borrowed library .
The first one already I'm reading was published in 2008, for the types of Laterza. A writer much loved and followed. I leave with curiosity.

also publish one of my poems a day, or attempts to poetry, the better. A continuous work on the words, stubborn and liberating.

tomorrow.