* Note: I’m off to France for the next week or so, but the newsletter will be back, as ever, on 27 July. In the meantime, buona lettura! *
From President of the Senate Ignazio La Russa’s indefensible intervention to protect his son from rape accusations to tourism minister Daniela Santanchè’s irregular investment activities, Italian politics has proved particularly squalid these past few days. Time, then, for a literature special. After all, it’s been a big week for the Italian book world. On Sunday evening the judges of the Premio Strega – the country’s most prestigious literary prize – announced their selection for the winners of the 2023 edition. Ada d’Adamo’s memoir Come d’aria, which deals with her personal experience of raising a son with a rare degenerative illness called holoprosencephaly took the top slot with the lion’s share of the vote. Best known for her work as a dancer, d’Adamo wrote her book as a no holds barred expose’ of Italy’s collapsing healthcare system; but also to draw attention to a number of philosophical issues pertaining to motherhood and care work. D’Adamo died earlier this year, in April, but the jury was proud to nominate her regardless for what is, by most accounts, a profoundly humane piece of writing. Other highly commended books included Rosella Postorino’s Mi limitavo ad amare te (“I only loved you”), a novel which follows a young refugee’s experience of the Bosnian War; Andrea Canobbio’s La traversata notturna (“The Night Crossing”) a surrealist-inspired stream of consciousness epic set in post-war Turin; and Maria Grazia Calandrone’s Dove non mi hai portata (“The Places You Never Took Me”) which documents the author’s personal, autobiographical quest to find out why her parents abandoned her in the park of Villa Borghese in 1965. Most of these titles will – I imagine – crop up in ENG before too long. But if you live in Italy, read Italian, and find yourself overwhelmed in a provincial Feltrinelli this summer, one of these might be worth picking up.
Otherwise, you could always turn to Natalia Ginzburg. New Directions has just published a new translation of the novelist’s first book The Road to the City; rendered into English here by Gini Alhadeff. The Road to the City is a bleak read – the plot follows a young, depressed woman who, desperate to flee her life in the provinces, marries into a bourgeoise family in the city where she finds herself disappointed, lonely and dissatisfied. Like many of Ginzburg’s books the prose is stark; characterised by her usual short sentences and fragmented, cold dialogue. The original edition – which Ginzburg published under the pseudonym Alessandra Tornimparte in 1942 – has a slightly uneven, rushed feel to it; almost as if the author wrote the book in a single sitting. The result may not be as formally accomplished as some of Ginzburg’s later books - like Lessico famigliare or Le voci della sera - but it’s a powerful, hard-hitting character portrait that’s charged by a peculiar, vital energy. Buy the book, straight from the publisher, here.
This next story – Italian only – wouldn’t have come onto my radar if it weren’t for a reader recommendation. So thanks to Laura R for the tip! Carla Lonzi is one of the most significant figures in Italian feminism. Her seminal study Sputiamo su Hegel, which was realised back in 1970, took a fierce stance against the patriarchal biases that have shaped the Western philosophical tradition. It was a watershed intervention in the political climate of those years with resonance far beyond Italian shores. All of which makes it even more distressing that for over a decade now Lonzi’s books have been out of print. Until now! The small press ‘La Tartaruga’ announced this week that, over the coming months, they will release new editions of the author’s diverse body of work: from her diaries and political manifestos to her art criticism and psychoanalytic essays on the body (e.g. “The clitorial versus the vaginal woman”). This is a long overdue and welcome revival of interest, and, just as importantly, it offers a chance for a new generation of readers to discover texts that are, sadly, as politically and culturally relevant now as they were 50 years ago. Rivista Studio has more information [ITA only I’m afraid]. Otherwise, have a read of this essay over at Asymptote.
Looking for something to quell that mid-July wanderlust? Well, Jeff Biggers’s new book has got you covered. In Sardinia: An Unexpected Journey in Italy is my kind of travel writing. The author – a journalist and playwright by profession – does exactly you’d expect with a title like that; he captures the sights, sounds, smells, and general atmospherics of one of the Mediterranean’s most beautiful islands. Refreshingly, however, like any good travel writer, he also dives headfirst into the history of the island – exploring everything from its neolithic burial mounds to the medieval Spanish Catalan occupation to the post-unification malaise. I haven’t read the book yet, but the extract on LitHub “The Land of the Muses. How Sardinia Became Italy’s Island of Poets” offers an impressively succinct review of the richness of the rural oral tradition and its evolution onto the printed page. If you’re heading to the island this summer (or simply daydreaming about its azure sea) this one is for you.
A few months ago I shared the news that Italy’s best known graphic novelist Michele Rech (aka Zerocalcare) has a new animated series out with Netflix called ‘Questo Mondo non Mi Renderà Cattivo’ [This World Can’t Tear Me Down]. Well, after much procrastinating I finally got round to watching the show, and I have to say… it’s absolutely brilliant. The series kicks off as our hero “Ze” and his friend are arrested by carabinieri for having – allegedly – been involved in a violent clash during an anti-fascist demonstration in the suburbs of Rome. The action then zooms out to hone in on the real circumstances behind the events: local gossip in the neighbourhood ice cream parlour; the opening of a new holding centre for refugees; “Ze’s” anxiety about being interviewed by a Berlusconian newscaster on prime time TV. The central protagonist this time round is Cesare, an angry, lonely young man – struggling to overcome addiction – who finds dubious support from a neo-Nazi community after leaving rehab. Don’t be fooled: the aesthetics may make this look like kids stuff, but “This World Can’t Tear Me Down” is sophisticated, complex, morally-compelling TV that I highly recommend to anyone reading here.
Recipe of the week: Diana Henry’s Apricot Tart
This is it. One of the best desserts out there, bar none. Who doesn’t love an apricot tart? Whatever you think of the humble albicocca (and I love it) the tart form is the ideal vessel for the humble stoned fruit. If you pick up apricots that are too ripe, the oven will turn them jammy and thick. Too sour? Baking will balance out the acids and neutralise that astringent sharpness. Of course, there are apricot tarts and apricot tarts. And Diana Henry’s recipe from How to Eat a Peach is the benchmark as far as I am concerned. The base of this dish is strictly speaking more French than Italian, but who’s keeping score? Fill some crumbly pastry with almond frangipan, add a dash of amaretto, top with the apricots and cook on a lowish temperature until the elements fuse together. Leave to rest for a few hours and tuck into a slice or two with a little whipped cream on the side. Absolutely gorgeous. Here’s the link.
About Me
My name is Jamie Mackay (@JacMackay) and I’m an author, editor and translator based in Florence. I’ve been writing about Italy for a decade for international media including The Guardian, The Economist, Frieze, and Art Review. I launched ‘The Week in Italy’ to share a more direct and regular overview of the debates and dilemmas, innovations and crises that sometimes pass under the radar of our overcrowded news feeds.
If you enjoyed this newsletter I hope you’ll consider becoming a supporter for EUR 5.00 per month (the price of a weekly catch-up over an espresso). Alternatively, if you’d like to send a one-off something, you can do so via PayPal using this link. No worries if you can’t chip-in or don’t feel like doing so, but please do consider forwarding this to a friend or two. It’s a big help!