The title is enclosed in the sense of The Moment of ... Vignanera.
admit that reading these stories, the lucidity necessary for a proper review has faltered.
is because the author of all this is Alessio Stefanelli .. for someone this name may not be able to say anything, but not me ... I say much, has in it the taste of the past and fortunately never really past, a present always singular and a future full of expectation.
But that's another story!
I said, indeed Alessio wrote, "to each intra pete de ulia 'ncete dulore nu", as if each grain of these perfect creatures that inhabit the estate of Vignanera, keep it secret "irraccontabili" hidden stories of princes and princesses who have cradled in the shadow of the sides of Vignanera silent.
Ti remains in the blood its sap, in the nostrils of the nose and its intense smell of the sirocco wind mixed with dust, nails red to indicate that land that sweat and effort. ... All this is Vignanera!
And his moments? These are the memories that each of Vignanerini jealously guards, like a treasure chest protected by those who do not understand and never will because they blinded by the myth of modernity and progress.
As the figure of Antonio, "de fijiu u Mariu Caddhrina emigrated in the late '60s and '70s to make a construction worker in Lausanne, along with two other relatives" that populates the memory of the author with his tail ... Fox "or any other damned furry animal" on the dashboard of his car when he came to town during the feast of the patron in August.
him, the classic immigrant who sometimes forgets his roots, never missed an opportunity to pouring out drone on about the "Swiss cleanliness and punctuality that there was here, at work in Switzerland and I was looking for a lot of other things that (...) bored to death and that each academic year as a ritual repeated inesorabilment . and "
But the memory of Anthony and all those who, like Antonio and had wanted to see what was over Vignanera could not betray the idea of \u200b\u200bbelonging that would mark anybody anywhere in the world.
Read the book:: ..
admit that reading these stories, the lucidity necessary for a proper review has faltered.
is because the author of all this is Alessio Stefanelli .. for someone this name may not be able to say anything, but not me ... I say much, has in it the taste of the past and fortunately never really past, a present always singular and a future full of expectation.
But that's another story!
I said, indeed Alessio wrote, "to each intra pete de ulia 'ncete dulore nu", as if each grain of these perfect creatures that inhabit the estate of Vignanera, keep it secret "irraccontabili" hidden stories of princes and princesses who have cradled in the shadow of the sides of Vignanera silent.
Ti remains in the blood its sap, in the nostrils of the nose and its intense smell of the sirocco wind mixed with dust, nails red to indicate that land that sweat and effort. ... All this is Vignanera!
And his moments? These are the memories that each of Vignanerini jealously guards, like a treasure chest protected by those who do not understand and never will because they blinded by the myth of modernity and progress.
As the figure of Antonio, "de fijiu u Mariu Caddhrina emigrated in the late '60s and '70s to make a construction worker in Lausanne, along with two other relatives" that populates the memory of the author with his tail ... Fox "or any other damned furry animal" on the dashboard of his car when he came to town during the feast of the patron in August.
him, the classic immigrant who sometimes forgets his roots, never missed an opportunity to pouring out drone on about the "Swiss cleanliness and punctuality that there was here, at work in Switzerland and I was looking for a lot of other things that (...) bored to death and that each academic year as a ritual repeated inesorabilment . and "
But the memory of Anthony and all those who, like Antonio and had wanted to see what was over Vignanera could not betray the idea of \u200b\u200bbelonging that would mark anybody anywhere in the world.
Read the book:: ..
