gli anni in tasca
An autobiography in three voices that alternate to retrace the big and the small stories tracing the natural paths of growth. Between the place of the duties, in the Northern Alps, where life revolves in the regular rhythms of home and the school, and the place of the pleasures, in the Apennines, halfway between Bologna and Florence, where the days stretch into the rhythms of the long holiday and the rural life of their grandparents. Roberto Piumini is an acclaimed Italian author and poet, whose works have been translated in French and German.
Sweating; running until you run out of breath; having fun; feeling free. These things are not not good in the world of Anna. Why? Because if you do them, here comes the wolf, or the devil, or a disease. And if you do not get a disease, then some bad luck will come, or a curse. And if it is not a curse, it will be the watchful eyes of the Virgin Mary, or even those of God, who sees everything, and will scare you to death if you do not behave. And a misbehavior is virtually everything you do or you can imagine doing. Except a few things.
The sea. In Naples, you can see it from every corner of the city. The sea a little girl sees from her window, from the streets; she cruises with her father; she listens to while her life changes, through minor incidents and major events. A sea that is unusually silent when everything begins to shake violently, spreading fear and chaos. The portrait of a childhood spent in extraordinary and difficult places; a tale of intense and sharp words.
Rights for all languages available
A childhood between the Veneto region and London; ancient palaces and rock concerts; nervous nannies and au pairs with exotic habits; nightmares and crashing crushes; the desire to grow and that desire to remain a child. A compelling, straightforward story that entertains and moves. A clear and deep voice which captures the essence of places, characters, situations. This is White Rabbits: an irresistible and delicate debut novel by Margherita Emo.
Rights for all languages available
What sort of relation does exist between the child you once were and the adult you are now? What makes us who we are? Who are we when we’re kids? And who we are, when we become adults? Between a man and his dog, walking on a beach, a philosophical dialogue on time, age, life develops. And stories are told. Stories of a Sardinia far away in time and space, yet close and alive in the memory of a man who fed and preserved the dear memory of himself as a child.
One evening, returning home, while in the elevator, the author of this book realizes that perhaps can not bear to write an autobiography of his childhood. Then, the day after, he begins to remember. And his memories, move him so much so that, seen from the putside, you might think he will soon start to cry.
Because childhood is a strange season of life: the only one that, seen from the distance of many yeas went by, makes you think that even the bad things that happened are good.
Young Guillaume lives in Bordeaux, in a working-class neighborhood, where life is hard and is not sparing anyone. He has no father and, what is worse, no television: something his classmates and friends talk about incessantly. But he has a mother, a passionate moviegoer, and an uncle, a feiry labor activist. So, he has no time to get bored: Forget the insipid drama of the small screen, he takes part to strikes and protest marches, and spends his evening in the film library. This is how he meets adventure, and its seductive and sour flavor.
What does it mean “to become yourself”? To face the distant world outside the comfortable walls of home. To let oneself be shocked and awed by the relationships with other people ant by the possibility of being refused and rejected. To look at your family without fears and sentimentalism. To expose your inner, intimate self, not hiding the pain of wanting to be different from who you are.
What happens when your parents are a headmaster and a teacher? And grandmother is not a good old woman, but a commander-in-chief with a terrible temper? And classmates pull your nose because you are bespectacled? And, as if that was not enough, your brother is good at school and even handsome? It is obvious: you dream escape. And maybe not just dream.