Cadaveri e papere. Frammenti di un romanzo infranto

Showgirl Nuns, Reckless Centenarians, Hardened Fishermen, Philanthropic Terrorists, Spinning Dancers, Dynamite-Wielding Aristocrats, Discount Store Kleptomaniacs, Philosopher Waiters, Cavernous Warblers, Insomniac Junk Dealers, Incontinent Commuters… Cameos of improbable characters, nonexistent places, irrelevant dramas; everyday trifles from a shattered novel left dozing for over thirty years. A leaden, bitter humor, adrift in the broth where it floats, like a floating island, a provincial world cluttered with aprons, mittens, and slippers, with processions and monotonous dinners, with mailboxes stuffed full of flyers for organized trips to sell frying pans. An unconscious backroom Spoon River, a twilight of mechanical folk engaged in small-time affairs: solace and vacuity, memory for future memory of a century just passed yet not quite dead, which, when dusted off now and then, still offers a strange kind of comfort.