Something I read on a blog about the fact that books should be talked about, suggested and even lent to friends to be really appreciated, brought me once again to a simple thought: yes, I agree, but sometimes they never come back. We say in italian never to lend money or books to friends, as you are likely to lose both.
When I was 14, or about then, my father gave me as a present a paperback copy of "The Lord of the Rings". That book contributed immensely to my youth, in many different ways. It made me read, dream, it made me know people and meet others all around the world. Even as it was showing the signs of the passing years and wear by innumerable readings and travels, it still was my treasure.
When I was 14, or about then, my father gave me as a present a paperback copy of "The Lord of the Rings". That book contributed immensely to my youth, in many different ways. It made me read, dream, it made me know people and meet others all around the world. Even as it was showing the signs of the passing years and wear by innumerable readings and travels, it still was my treasure.
Years later, I lent it to my german girlfriend in the most intense moment of our story, a kind of unconscious token maybe, as I was starting to consider her for marriage. So it was that the book was brought to Germany as a tourist and there, as surprised by a sudden war, interned as a political prisoner when the story between the two of us collapsed, a few months later, almost without any warning sign. A kind of Primo Levi made of paper, but without the coming home part.
Sometimes, I still wonder how is it feeling, an italian book filled of imagination and of the words of an english catholic surrounded by protestant, grey and down to heart german books. It kind of break my hearts when I think about it, as if a part of my youth was held hostage and prisoner of someone who I once loved and turned in an enemy, almost overnight.