It was a rainy day and I started to read
I bought Biamonti's
"Le parole la notte"in a Dutch translation.
I had never heard of him. The title intrigued me. I
opened it and thought: yes, I like this. It reminded
me of Pavese. - It was a rainy day and I started to
read. I could not stop. And as I read I seemed to find
myself in a trance. When I finished the book the trance
remained, for several days even and I decided to re-read
it. Why? Can one explain magic? I shall try. - The sun,
the moon, the sea, the sky, the wind, the clouds, the
birds, the flowers, the rocky mountainous coast, the
old neglected olive groves, all lost in an infinite
deep blue. The writer who wanders along the "sentieri
ripidi". A sense of danger, who wants to harm him?
He observes, he contemplates. He has brief encounters
along the way: an ancient shepherd with his flocks,
an old woman gathering fire-wood. But also newcomers,
rich foreigners seeking a safe haven. What are they
fleeing from? And by night the furtive passage of asylum-seekers,
homeless people lost between two worlds. Violence, but
also compassion. His characters are like insignificant,
vulnerable travellers, whose brief journey leads them
through a timeless landscape. Nature and the elements
are indifferent to their sufferings. Contradictory as
this may seem it does not give me an impression of cruelty
but rather a sense of consolation. The kind of feeling
I get when I am gazing at the nocturnal sky and seeing
the bright light of the stars. He has a unique gift
of expressing a maximum of meaning in a minimum of words.
- But I still haven't been able to explain why he casts
a spell on me, his reader. Why his words seem to grow
wings and fly straight to my heart. I cannot explain
this experience, I am back where I started. It remains
his secret. It is magic. He is a poet writing in prose.
Tante grazie, Francesco Biamonti!
11 luglio 2006