A book from a time when Italian literature was
worthy of that name. This “history” book is, for once, not about Fascism –
although the bulk of the novel takes place during the years of the Second World
War it has very little to do with a political commentary of the dictatorship.
It is different from many novels in which personal
histories overlap with the great events of history, mostly because of the
disarming simplicity of the lives of the two main characters (something that
doesn’t lose its appeal even after more than 500 pages) and because the book is
not an epic family history, and Useppe and Ida are not the charismatic and
inspiring leaders of tightly-knit family clans, but rather two tiny figures
essentially alone in the world.
The book is touching in a way that I never
experienced before, and one of the few instances in which I was able to
appreciate the uniquely feminine touch of the author.
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