At the centre of the novel is the author’s old family house near
Salerno. The smells, the names of the rooms, the hazelnuts and tobacco leaves, the fruit garden bordering the fields, the plane tree peeping through the window, the pergola, the bicycle, the madness besieging the family, the landing of the Allies in Salerno, the mozzarella, the fresh eggs. And people: the grandfather, the undisputed master called Signore; Liciuzza “whose imagination was as lazy as her body”; Zia Renata, perpetually in love with a British officer; Clotilde and Elvira, the crazy aunts; and then cousins, children and labourers. With mild irony the narrator looks back like a painter hidden among the group and tells the story of a carefree age, until the death of the grandfather marks the end of such world, the division of the house and the beginning of adulthood.
“A sensitive pen that, like the one of Isabel Allende, is very good at projecting you in a different world”. La Gazzetta del Mezzogiorno
“A story of spaces, distances and proximities that unites the pleasure of reading with the possibility of ploughing through words”. Huffington Post
“A novel of memories but also an ethical and political reflection on how lands, belongings and collective hopes were made unrecognizable”. Il Mattino