I'm back home — to be fair, I've been back home for about two weeks now, but I'm finding it difficult to write this newsletter. I procrastinate because in the heatwave that hit Rome this June my mind is also clogged with the news — EU elections, the war in Ukraine, the genocide in Gaza, the victims of caporalato… everything.
Sitting safely in my home, I feel guilty for feeling fatigue from all the depressing news. I mean, there are people, families, children actually living under attack, risking their lives at every heartbeat, having already lost their homes (and friends, and family members…), their everyday life — going to school, going to work, doing groceries, reading a book on a bench near the beach, meeting friends, playing games… Enjoying life like every human being should be allowed to do. While I live a safe life, so why do I feel fatigued?
I try to “escape” from the world's madness by listening to music and by reading fiction and books about historical gardens, and these days I also keep on perusing a well-known Italian real estate portal looking for a suitable place.
For what?, you might wonder…
To move out of Rome.
[insert Belle and Sebastian performing Get me away from here, I'm dying here]
That's when I go back to feeling guilty again — I am lucky I was born in a place that's not torn by war, I have a home, plenty of food, access to fresh produce and clean water, I can go for a passeggiata knowing I won't be struck by shrapnel while I'm busy marveling at details of baroque monuments or eating gelato… if this isn't sheer luck then what is it? And yet, I feel the urge to leave this city, to move to a smaller town, because I need more of what I already have (a quiet yet fulfilling life, that is), which can only be achieved by slowing down.
Decrescita felice, “happy decreasing”, that's what they call it over here — sometimes sneering at people who aim at that, because after all we're still living in a capitalist system, where overproduction and overconsuming still rule the economy. How can anybody become happier in such a system without wanting to own more?
In the meantime, as I said, I read — and write, too. Not this newsletter, apparently — I find refuge in writing that book I've been working on for what seems centuries now, and I also have a couple of other side projects that have been thrown at me by people who seem to trust my writing more than my literature teacher from high school ever did (hi, professoressa U., thanks for NOTHING.), so I don't want to disappoint them.
(at the same time, I'm also renovating the bathroom in my flat so that everything will be nice and dandy — and working properly — when I eventually find *the place* out of Rome to move to, as by then I'll need to rent out or perhaps even sell my flat here — and in fact my Saturday, today that is, will be spent shopping for tiles and bathroom fittings… ah, the glamorous Italian life, right?)
As for my summer reads, here's what's on the menu:
• Gaja Cenciarelli, A scuola non si muore: she's a friend, a romana de Roma, and I love her writing so much. This is her first attempt at a noir, set in a high school in the outskirts of Rome (the main character is a teacher doubling as a detective when one of her colleagues is found dead, his hands chopped off…) and it opens with a quote by Lt. Columbo (whom Gaja is a super fan of!)…
• Pietro Scarnera, Viaggio in Italia: not the newsletter (to which I'm subscribed, of course), but the much awaited graphic novel!
• Beppe Roncari, Engaged — Il libro di Renzo: a rewriting of The Betrothed story, but with some magic added to it (Engaged has been described as “Alessandro Manzoni meets Neil Gaiman”, so…). This is the first book, the one written from Renzo’s perspective, while the second book is from Lucia's. I'm genuinely intrigued.
• François Morlupi, Il gioco degli opposti: a new chapter of the “cinque di Monteverde” saga, the detective squad lead by commissario Ansaldi!
• Alessandro Cilona, Il flauto traversiere: ok, this one needs an explanation I'm not yet ready to give, sorry… suffice to say, it's a book about baroque flutes.
• Andrea Mati, Salvarsi con il verde: one of the panelists from a wonderful course on historical gardens I attended during the past few months, he writes about his experience over the decades as a designer of therapeutic gardens…
• Suzie Edge, Vital organs: it’s sort of a sequel to her first book, Mortal monarchs — Suzie is competent in medicine and history, and she's hilarious, she’s one of the few people worth following on TikTok.
Speaking of the course about historical gardens, it turned out to be really useful also for my book: I've been rewriting bits of it, as I eventually realised what was missing… I mean, the idea was there all the time, and yet I couldn't pinpoint what was the actual link between all the chapters, it seemed all too fragmented… then the course began and, as it went on, pieces of the novel started falling into place, too.
It feels weird for me to talk about the writing process, perhaps because I'm not used to talk about it, and, honestly, I don’t know if people would be interested in that, I just write notes all the time and then rework them into the story, and in fact I'm in awe of people who can explain what their process is like…
Anyway, I'll try and be more consistent with puntarelle, and tell you more actual stories about Rome next time!
Thank you once again for your words expressing so many of the things that I have been thinking about.
I love the idea of decrescita felice! I just listened to a podcast about subtraction. https://hiddenbrain.org/podcast/do-less/
As I am about to sort through 30 years worth of stuff in a few days, I definitely want to live with less.
I’m always happy when you surface with a new post, Giorgia, at your own pace. Thank you for all these wonderful book recommendations. Hoping I can find some of them at my local independent bookstore in Penne. Grazie xx