Dacia Maraini nasce a Fiesole (Firenze). La madre Topazia
appartiene a unantica famiglia siciliana, gli Alliata di Salaparuta.
Il padre, Fosco Maraini, per metà inglese e per metà fiorentino,
è un grande etnologo ed è autore di numerosi libri sul Tibet
e sullEstremo Oriente. Nel 1943 si trova con la famiglia in
Giappone e vive la drammatica esperienza di un campo di prigionia. Ad oggi,
è considerata a pieno titolo "la signora della letteratura Italiana".Gli
ultimi romanzi pubblicati con Rizzoli, sono Corpo Felice e
Erri De Luca. Nato a Napoli nel 1950, ha scritto narrativa,
teatro, traduzioni, poesia. Il nome, Erri, è la versione italiana
di Harry, il nome dello zio. Il suo primo romanzo, Non ora, non
qui, è stato pubblicato in Italia nel 1989. I suoi libri
sono stati tradotti in oltre 30 lingue. Autodidatta in inglese, francese,
swahili, russo, yiddish e ebraico antico, ha tradotto con metodo letterale
alcune parti dellAntico Testamento. Vive nella campagna romana dove
ha piantato e continua a piantare alberi. Il suo ultimo libro è "A
grandezza naturale", edito da Feltrinelli.
"Il destino di ogni uomo è un segreto sepolto nel silenzio"
A pronunciare queste parole è Glenn Cooper, uno scrittore
che ha venduto milioni di copie in tutto il mondo e che ha un legame particolare
con la storia Italiana. Il suo ultimo libro si intitola Clean - Tabula
Rasa e racconta di una epidemia mondiale molto simile a quella che abbiamo
Altre interviste su Writer
Manuale di pubblicazione Amazon KDP. Sempre più autori
emergenti decidono di pubblicarse il proprio libro in Self su Amazon KDP,
ma spesso vengono intimoriti dalle possibili complicazioni tecniche. Questo
articolo offre una spiegazione semplice e dettagliata delle procedure da
seguire e permette il download di alcun file di esempio, sia per il testo
già formattato che per la copertina.
Fabula, trama e chiacchiere davanti al fuoco. Perché
non proviamo a raccontare una storia come lo faremmo di notte, con degli
sconosciuti, attorno a un fuoco? Perché non dimentichiamo le tecniche
della fabula e dell'intreccio per trasformare la trama in una storia tatuata
sulla pelle di chi legge o ascolta? È davvero così importante
seguire uno schema e incanalarci nel modus operandi corrente?
Scrittori si nasce. Siamo operai della parola, oratori,
arringatori di folle, tribuni dalla parlantina sciolta, con impresso nel
DNA il dono della chiacchiera e la capacità di assumere le vesti
di ignoti raccontastorie, sbucati misteriosamente dalla foresta. Siamo figli
della dialettica, fratelli dell'ignoto, noi siamo gli agricoltori delle
favole antiche e seminiamo di sogni l'altopiano della fantasia.
Because of a heavy rain fall, blurry images flowed before my eyes, so I found it hard to see what appeared before me. It was cold and with difficulty I observed all those people with black umbrellas circled arround the two coffins. My glasses became misty to the point that only with a lot of effort I could bearly distinguish their faces, perhaps also because they were keeping their heads lowered down to avoid being seen crying. The cypresses moved like flags because of the strong wind that brought oxygen in a moment that was difficult to breathe. Closing my eyes, clear images flowed through my mind of memories, and with difficulty I accepted that inside those two wooden caskets were my best friends: Marco and Chiara. A cramp tightened my stomach, but I was still not able to cry, because I knew that their desire was to depart this world together, so that neither would suffer the loss of the other. Their wish had been granted, but I would have liked it to have happened far later in life, instead their karma had recalled them in that moment. I knew in my heart that they were finally at peace, with my eyes closed I could see them smiling hand in hand, as they were found after that terrible accident ... The newspaper reported this news: “Two is the death toll arrising from a road accident which occurred around 3pm on the bypass. In the accident were involved a a Fiat Panda - literally destroyed – and a truck carrying a load of vegetables, with its contents on the asphalt due to the violent impact.The exact causes of the accident are still to be ascertained, but what is certain is that it was a rear-end collision.The vehicle with the two spouses who died instantly was buffered by the truck. The victims, stuck between the sheets of metal had to be extracted with much difficulty by the local firefighters. Emergy personel had difficulty in separating them, as they were embraced, clutching one another's hand tightly, the strange thing was there position as both had there seat belts fastened. The driver of the truck was transported to hospital, reported only a few hematomas and minor scratches. Traffic was disrupted in both directions of the bypass. Police patrols intervened on the spot to direct the traffic, and to record all the necessary details regarding the accident. Also involved in the rescue operations were two teams of 118 operators (ambulance), who could do nothing for the two spouses but to accertain their death". I remember that morning before they left for that trip that they had planned for some time, they stopped over at my house for a cup coffee. When I went to open the door I found them joyful with a smile on their faces. My husband went to make the coffee while we sat and chatted about life in general. While we were talking, I observed theirs faces she was serious, her eyes were red as if she had cried, and didn't seem to pay much attention to what to what I was telling her and seemed distracted and emanated disordered emotions. I asked her if she needed anything, she replied that she just needed a coffee, because she hadn't slept well the night before because she had nightmares waking up in a state of sadness. She considered it a signal: feeling it wasn't the right time to have gone on the trip. Her husband instead was tranquil, saying that it had been a long time since they had last travelled alone, and that he would not have allowed his ladys nightmares to prevent them from going. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and said that their love would always be a winner and that nothing or nobody could have stopped them from loving each other. You could see that they loved each other deeply, there was a wonderful sweet sensation that one could feel while being in their presence. She described the hightmare she had experienced the night before: saying that she saw herself in the shape of a caterpillar, crawling on the blade of a razor, while crawling the sharp blade cut her causing her much pain that she subsequently lost her balance, falling into a black tunnel that never ended. Suddenly the pain disappeared and found herself transformed into a butterfly, flying harmoniously towards the light. It was not the first time that her dreams became a reality, precisely because of these events of the past she not want to leave that day. He became serious and tried to calm her down with an affectionate kiss, and told her that after all what they had gone through nothing could frighten them anymore, then turning towards me with an affectionate look on his face, asked me to keep a promise, I remained serious, knowing that I would have had to honour it. He told me that whatever would have happened, I would have had to write their story, keeping their authentic identity anonymous of course, but I would have had to reveal the bare facts of their story to whoever read it, could reflect on the importance of apologizing. I saw him become serious while he continued speaking: “The tests that I had to overcome through in my life has made me strong, the great pain that I have endured has rendered me a better human being, my errors, failures and mistakes of the past have made me a humble person, the happiness and joy that I am experiencing in this moment besides my woman, who has made me a very happy man, is something that I will permit nobody to takeaway from me, so let's stay calm drink our coffee together and then off we go on this new adventure”? If only they had known that it would have been their last adventure, would they have left? if only I had known that it was going to be their last trip, I would have certainly embraced them stronger. When my husband arrived with the coffee, finding us all serious and thoughtful, took the accordion and started playing to minimize the the unpleasant atmosphere that was in the air. The music brought back the smile and together we sang until we lost our voices. I have always been convinced that, of all the arts, music is most capable of evoking emotions of joy, serenity, excitement, melancholy, and there is no one during thier lives who has felt this special feeling by listening to it, because it interacts with the body and arouses the desire to move profound emotions within which are linked to significant or special moments in our lives. Music recalls our memories and this, in turn stimulates our emotions. They had in fact met at a ballroom dance, it was music that made them fall in love ... music that was resonating in our dining room that put a smile on their faces. All the doubts disappeared and a smile reappeared in every one of us. Having drunk the coffee, they greeted us goodbye with a warm hug and a promise to go dancing together as soon as they had returned. They left my house singing and hugging each other. Seeing them so happy, my husband and I also embraced each other. It is wonderful to discover when people who have found love in middle age can make sorrow fade away in the heart. As you go on in life, you understand that love is everywhere, it's joy, it means going forward, and breathing again ... love is life. Marco and Chiara were our best friends, we had many things in common, they too like us had found each other, after going through a life of suffering, and hardship had to struggle with life before they found their way and happiness. they too like us had skeletons in the closet that they couldn't get rid of easily, and it now saddens me that they are not here anymore, those skeletons locked up in the dark are crying because they haven't been able to come out into the open. They are crying like the many people who hid their tears at their funeral, covering their faces with umbrellas. I didn't want to be in their shoes: now the time was over, it was too late to apologize to these two wonderful souls who made their love their main purpose of life. We all know that time runs fast and waits for nobody and that life is a whiff. That's why my husband and I are doing our best- to live our love in a harmonious and passionate way, we have many years to recuperate for the lost time of the past: I thought the same for them, instead... Someone up there called them to Him, leaving some in pain and remorse. The rain ceased a little, I managed to wipe my glasses to see better; suddenly from afar I saw a tepid ray of sunshine emerging from the clouds, creating a rainbow behind the hills. I spontaneously looked at that pale ray of sunshine that seemed to say, "Look at me . " At that point, I too began to cry because I saw two white butterflies flying cross the rainbow, directed towards that beautiful light; they were flying higher until they disapeared. Soon after it stopped raining and the sun started shining again, many closed their umbrellas, others possibly did not have the courage to do it, so that no one could see the feeling of discomfort in their eyes. Out of curiosity, I stood by and watched, waiting that they would close their umbrellas, I wanted to see the color of remorse, and selfishness on their faces, I was curious and did not intend moving until I crossed their despairing look. I was convinced that my friends would have wanted it. Finally the umbrellas closed, I would not have been peace until they had noticed how I was observing them, and wanted to see if I could perceive the sentiment pain and torment on their faces that arises from the awareness of their wrong doings which they were party too, and see if there was a minimal sign of repentance on their behalf. I didn't succeed because when they noticed my penetrating gaze, they lowered their heads. I understood that they felt a feeling of shame. Understanding this, I was sure that in the years to come they would have lived in a state of remorse. After all, that too is an emotion, only that in the end it produces guilt that undoubtedly doesn't allow you to live in harmony. The people slowly began leave, I instead I stood motionless staring at nothing, immersed in my distant thoughts, in memories of the past that tormented my mind. The last time I was at a funeral was that of my son. I directed my look towards the sky and with tears in my eyes I asked my friends to greet my son. I missed him so much, maybe that's why I couldn't stop crying. I didn't even realize that my husband was hugging me asking me to go home. He was right, we did not have anything else to do at the cemetery. I smiled when he said that we both knew that the body dies, but not the energy and our soul. Together those two beautiful butterflies rose towards the light, their wish was fulfilled, now it was my turn to keep the promise I had made, to write their story. Inside of me I had a painful nostalgic regret, that of not having said goodbye to them the way I wanted to ...a regret that grieved me for what I hadn't been able to do. A regret, for what it could have been, but never happened. My husband told me to remain calm, because they would understand my pain, instead I should have been sad for those who, unlike me, would have to live in constant remorse. He was right, we had to go home aware of the fact that we had lost two great wonderful friends. We understood each other with our eyes, no words were needed. I like the quote of Grace Pulpit which says: A friend is that person who arrives, when the rest of the world is leaving. They were that for us, and us for them. That night we didn't sleep, our thoughts were with them, but my husbands strong embrace managed to calm the pain, that embrace was the most beautiful emotion I could feel in a moment of sadness. They too were found embraced, that's the way they wished it to be, and that's the way it happened, I hope this also happens to us, as late as possible of course.