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Rating: As a respectable debut work, it has all the flaws: unripe like a promising fruit, pretentious like a craftsman at the first exit from the kiln with his ceramics. But let's stop bothering newcomers: they have every right to make mistakes, especially if they put their soul and commitment into the work, and if they demonstrate an original mastery of the pen.
All things that can be recognized in Chiara Artemisia. Do we want to say that she took an introspective journey into her restless soul? Perhaps, but she did not do so by trivializing a series of psychoanalytic sessions. Do we want to find out that she has erred in flaunting her culture as an academic researcher where the world of the living and that of the differently living (talking of the dead would seem politically incorrect) meet in many different cultures of our planet Earth? Yes, Chiara Artemisia does that. And does she flirt with eroticism? Certainly, but without following the canons prevailing in contemporary novels. And there is a story - non-linear - a thread to follow until the epilogue that leaves the reader free to interpret the ending (but also what precedes it: it is not a thriller). So here my review stops because I think it should serve to pique the curiosity of those unfamiliar with a text - and I have no doubts about that, as we're rambling on about a debut work - and an author. Everything that could be added is up to the discussion among those who have read those pages. And I invite you to do so, hoping to have tickled your uvula.
A bientôt ...
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