Post by account_disabled on Dec 20, 2023 22:33:55 GMT -5
Eritreo Cazzulati writingThere was a time when I only appreciated foreign literature, classics but also modern authors. I had read the great names of Italian writers, such as Pirandello, Calvino, Verga, Collodi. My approach towards modern Italian authors was one of complete distrust. As if our literature had died with the classics. I consider the novel The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco a masterpiece of twentieth-century Italian literature and I hope that one day it can be read in schools as a classic that should not be missed. But Umberto Eco is a well-known author and, let's say so, I was on the safe side by buying that book.
What could I know about the unknown ones? Unknown in the positive sense of the term, unknown to me, therefore. I still remember The Antidote of Melancholy by Piero Meldini, a novel that I recommend Special Data reading. I got it on offer and it didn't disappoint me. A barrier was breaking. A breakup that took years to complete. I have definitively broken down that wall of distrust with the novels published by Edizioni XII, which have allowed me to appreciate authors I previously ignored, authors whose works I have subsequently purchased from other publishers.
And so my library was populated with Coltri, Lombardi, Versace, Arona, Bonfanti, Giovanelli and others taken from short story collections. The attitude towards Italian writers has changed. This does not mean that all those who publish are authors worth reading, just as this certainty does not exist among foreign ones. It means that a sort of rediscovery of Italian authors was born. Well, now they exist, for me. Now I can look at Italian catalogs with more enthusiasm. Now I meet new authors and can read works that I had previously missed. I can also wait for the release of new books by those authors. And waiting is still a pleasure, like that of reading. What is your attitude towards local writers.
What could I know about the unknown ones? Unknown in the positive sense of the term, unknown to me, therefore. I still remember The Antidote of Melancholy by Piero Meldini, a novel that I recommend Special Data reading. I got it on offer and it didn't disappoint me. A barrier was breaking. A breakup that took years to complete. I have definitively broken down that wall of distrust with the novels published by Edizioni XII, which have allowed me to appreciate authors I previously ignored, authors whose works I have subsequently purchased from other publishers.
And so my library was populated with Coltri, Lombardi, Versace, Arona, Bonfanti, Giovanelli and others taken from short story collections. The attitude towards Italian writers has changed. This does not mean that all those who publish are authors worth reading, just as this certainty does not exist among foreign ones. It means that a sort of rediscovery of Italian authors was born. Well, now they exist, for me. Now I can look at Italian catalogs with more enthusiasm. Now I meet new authors and can read works that I had previously missed. I can also wait for the release of new books by those authors. And waiting is still a pleasure, like that of reading. What is your attitude towards local writers.