I confess that I owe the discovery of a forgotten novel by Lalla Romano to the fact that, for reasons of space, the large library of my brother Mario has been resized and everything not deemed essential, closed the box and entrusted to me for conservation, whose duration was not specified.
Every time I try to give an order to this mass of books, catalogs, often randomly open boxes in search of some exciting and unusual reading.
So it happened this Lalla Romano, 1973, in a novel, perhaps less than its most famous and important production, but that is linked to language, simple, linear, dry, filled with an affectionate irony, free of any sentimentality.
A novel with a plot almost non-existent, with no surprises, which is based on the ability of the word to bring to life the story of everyday life, with references, allusions, references to classical culture of its author, history teacher art, but also to the poet's ability to remove rather than add, to get the essentials.
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