Dad doesn't read as much as mum, and as such doesn't recommend nearly as much. Of the two books I read on his advice, I found one borderline unreadable and the other an incredible work that gave me a little bit of faith in Italian literature. This is the latter of the two.
Wu Ming is a writing collective that doesn't seek celebrity. It seeks good writing, and man do they achieve it with 54.
I was skeptical of a story involving Cary Grant (I didn't have a great experience with Stan Laurel in Triste, Solitario y Final and I think that affected me), but his plot was beautifully woven into the other parallel stories. Plus, I got enough hidden references to feel smug.
And the stories of former partisans, fighters and comrades trying to come to terms with the post-war Italy they had contributed to create were full of pathos and unusual insights.
Easily one of the best books I've read in 2022, and one that lifted my mood this last Christmas break.
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