I convitati di pietra

July 22, 1975: a high school class, celebrating the end of their final exams with a dinner, makes a blood-and-money pact. Each of the thirty classmates will contribute a yearly sum, invested to
grow into a fortune over the decades. The rule is simple: the raffle ends when only three classmates remain alive, who will then split the jackpot.
But year after year, as they reunite on July 22 for the ritual dinner, buried grudges, unspoken loves, broken promises, and simmering envies resurface. The conversations circle around each other’s ailments, as everyone silently speculates who might be next to “depart”. Soon, the classmates are no longer old friends but gamblers around a roulette table, “for whom guessing a number means wishing for it – if only to keep playing”. And every game has rules, and ways to bend them: clandestine bets, secret affairs, suspicions, murder attempts, unlikely spells, and above all Chance itself, that great spoiler of human plans.
Mari, at his most playful and mischievous, follows his characters into 2050 and beyond, in a narrative machine that keeps readers glued to the page. After all, we have all dreaded those class reunions – moments when time seems to have stopped, until nostalgia gives way to the disillusion of individuals who no longer share anything at all.
I convitati di pietra is a novel about youth – the time when we believe ourselves immortal – and, by extension, about the anxieties of old age.
Somewhere between The Big Chill and Final Destination, Michele Mari’s new novel is both hilarious and poignant. A ticking time bomb of a book, its relentless beat offers a sharp, wicked
reflection on the time allotted to us.