And who would have thought – another one of the
books that I’ve read while pretending to do some ground-breaking historical
research. Carlo Levi was a true renaissance man in some grim times in Italy: a
supremely talented writer, a great (if too often underrated) painter, and a key
figure in the development of anti-Fascism.
This is a book in which nothing, or at least
close to nothing, happens. But it’s a short one, so I didn’t mind its
uneventfulness, and it’s also a perfect depiction of both life in such an
isolated place as Gagliano (Aliano in real life) and of life in internal exile.
And the title of the book is one of the best ones I’ve ever come across:
Gagliano is so remote that not even Christ has ever managed to reach it (an
idiomatic Italian expression) as he stopped in the town of Eboli, a few
kilometres away.
No comments:
Post a Comment