Castelli di Rabbia - Alessandro Baricco

 

Baricco is an author that I find fairly constantly good, rarely outstanding, and sometimes just overambitious. Castelli di Rabbia is one of those books that make me err towards overambitious (and possibly, dare I say it, overrated). 

An Italian attempt at magical realism involving - among other things - trains doesn't exactly attract me. If One Hundred Years of Solitude has lost its charm for me, it's not like a more contemporary attempt at creating a similar mystique will make me like a book. 

And while some of the anecdotes and subplots might be a pleasant enough read, the most they achieved was making me want to look into the actual history of some of those events (like the construction of the Crystal Palace in London) a bit more in depth, but very little more. 

Something to Tell You - Hanif Kureishi

 

Like most of Kureishi's books, this was a pleasant read, in particular as it felt like an indirect reflection on his pretty unique life and relationships. 

Yet, the autobiographical and self-referential tones are also one of the book's main weaknesses, as I read it shortly after reading his short-story collection Midnight All Day, which already contained a number of the stories and plotlines developed in this book. 

All in all, though, this was one of the best recent works by Kureishi that I read as it gave me a sense of peace for characters - and authors - finally being at peace with themselves and with their own idiosyncrasies. 

L'Eta' Fragile - Donatella Di Pierantonio

 

One of my customary attempts to read books shortlisted for Italy's most famous literary award. 

And one of my customary underwhelmed reactions. Obviously, we need to talk about women and the challenges they face, and how often they can mirror the trauma experienced by previous generations, but I really did struggle with the eternal bleakness of this book. 

This is a novel in which (some) women show resilience and independence, and (some) women protect other women, whereas the few men who appear are at best menacing and behind the times and, at worst, openly dangerous. Luckily there is also one stereotypical knight in shining armour who will allow one of the characters to have a moment of peace before, rather predictably, disappearing from the scene and from her life (while still maintaining a Darth Vader-esque presence in the air). Needless to say, I found that the characterization of men (and women too!) in this book left a lot to be desired. 

Fiore di Roccia - Ilaria Tuti

 

One of the recent Italian books that my mom said I could "maybe" look at. 

On the one hand, this is surely a commendable effort, in particular because of its depiction of some key contributors (the women who carried supplies up to the front) to the Italian war effort during World War I. From that point of view, it reminded me of the similarly commendable Italiana by Catozzella. 

Beyond that, though, I struggled with the heroic tones of the novel (I suspect to a large extent used to mimic the rhetoric of the time) and the sentimentality of it (despite the fact that some reviewer praised the author for supposedly not giving in to sentimentality?) is something that really has no appeal for me. 

The Pilgrimage - Paulo Coelho

OK, I've only read this book because I intend to walk the Camino de Santiago this summer, and I felt like I needed to read the book that made it ever so popular among many (already outdated) new age Italian readers in the 1990s. 

I was expecting it to be bad, but damn, not this bad!

In my mind, it would offer at least some sort of inspiration (and valuable information) for someone wanting to walk the Camino, but I found more useful information in random blog posts by improbable pilgrims. 

And the search for spirituality really grows old and uninspiring from the book's jacket onwards. 

If anything, this book could have put me off from my summer walking plans, but hey, tickets are booked already...

Anna - Niccolò Ammaniti

 

Every now and again, Ammaniti writes a good book. Most of the times though, as my high-school teachers would say, his remains a story of "unfulfilled potential". A promising start with some fairly pleasant pulp novels, flirting with very-good literature with Ti Prendo e Ti Porto Via, actual (inter)national recognition with Io Non Ho Paura and the subsequent movie (a blessing and a curse) and then so many "meh" books. 

Anna is, at the very best, another "meh" book. The dystopian race to the sea and the search for what's "on the other side" is old and stale. This is not The Road, but not even the Italian L'Uomo Verticale. This is actually just a cheap shot, trying to sell a few more copies by looking at children and their resourcefulness (and savagery) when adults are not around (and since we're at it, this book isn't Lord of the Flies either, needless to say...). 

The only redeeming feature of the book is that, at the very least, it was written before the COVID-19 pandemic, meaning that at least the mysterious virus that kills all adults but spares children can be credited with some originality.