Uno e altri amori
Description:From the insert of the Rusconi edition, 1984
A plant that loves; a yellow bag left behind under a bench in a Texan mall; a benign Fish that flies, a gloomy ménage à trois in dreary La Paz, the roof of the world in Bolivia; a tape-recorder in which an artist’s dramatic duality is enclosed; an electric fan maybe too virtuous; two ghosts among the melodious cats of a villa at Rifredi; the terrible power, a boomerang, of a Davidic psalm; these and many other are the themes – the loves – of Carlo Coccioli, an unclassifiable writer: twenty-nine prodigious stories, written in a wide span of years, deeply different from one another, but linked by an unrelenting coherence.
The writer recommends that they should be read slowly, especially when one gets to the last lines. These can transform non only the intrinsic value of all the narration, but even the aura that envelops it.
From fanta-theology to erotic arabesque, from tropical detective story to self-satisfied Tuscan style of speaking about a cow, Coccioli, who can be interpreted in many ways, is a generous squanderer: in few lines, he burns up a material that others would use for a novel.