CHOICE rocked by the frenzied rocking
imagined in a dream to stretch between the white pages
the great book of high-speed
to deal with a Literacy as big as the Mole,
imprinted in my childhood memories as a solemn presence
watching me wherever I went hand in hand with my father.
It was not the arrival that woke me up, but the voices of the vulgar
my neighbors a few meters ahead.
were two soldiers who were returning to Turin after a license.
The Sicilian, a boy around 35y.o., blonde lady spoke with a patient and kind
bragging about how his life had just read a book
and how it was deeply disappointed.
The memory of that unfortunate trouble-rich unmet expectations, that trauma,
would accompany him forever. In elaborating
epithets of dubious nature, told all the passengers of the train,
it would no longer read books for the rest of his life.
After all, they lived naturally and just as well believe it, without having
between the feet, or rather in his hands, those items useless and cumbersome.
He was determined to establish itself as the sole representative of this record ...
one book and never again I'm proud, you can live without! smiled, after that I was cute boy with bright striped purple sweater
a clear sign of the relaxation rigid austerity of his uniform.
With bleary eyes smiled and listened to the denial of that,
until then in the arms of Morpheus, I had appeared.
closed his eyes again and imagined the drama of being stretched, trapped,
right in between the pages of that book and then closed for ever, and placed in a box,
in a dusty attic next to a chair with three legs and
broken seat or even in a dark cellar next to a bicycle with flat tire. Forced to
cibarmi pulp and ink to the cover, fortunately soft
because certainly a 'paperback.
get off the train, pale and still with the taste of ink in the mouth.
at the Lingotto in the first International Book Fair of my life as the industry and beyond.
Turin seemed to me immediately and again regal, imposing as in my memories.
getting on along the way, I realized how incredulous that noble urban space
un'orlatura was lying at the foot of the snow-capped mountains, spectacular in the sky in May.
treasure of the emotions I did before arriving at their destination and
definitive loss for three long days during which,
that book inside the box in the attic, he won the abandonment
thanks to the curious gaze of those who decided to bring it to light and leaf through it.
course he might give something of value.
; In photos Amelie Nothomb
