Damon Galgut
In una stanza sconosciuta

I got to know Damon Galgut through another writer; my favorite writer, no less, Edward Morgan Forster. But having written a novel (a very beautiful one) about the life of E.M. Forster doesn't necessarily mean being his heir, the second coming, or things like that. No, no, those were just my fantasies, which I had in my head even before I'd actually read him. Already "Arctic Summer," the aforementioned novel about Forster, had hinted at the distinct and recognizable personality of this author, a personality that, in the three stories that make up "In una stanza sconosciuta," or "In a Strange Room," if you prefer, emerges in its most essential and powerful form. Anyway, Damon Galgut is a South African writer and playwright, born in 1963, an early talent but not particularly prolific; only four of his books have been translated into Italian, including "In una stanza sconosciuta" (2010) and "Arctic Summer" (2014), which to date remain his latest publications.

But, specifically, what makes "In una stanza sconosciuta" special apart from being a superbly written book unlike anything I've ever read before? The protagonist's name is Damon, which immediately leads us to think it is a kind of highly autobiographical "travel diary"; and it is, for the most part, but there's more, and the writer himself reveals it: "In part, that man is completely me, in part, he is a stranger I observe," and, consistent with this premise, continuously alternates between first and third person. This is the most distinguishing stylistic feature of the book, not an eccentricity for its own sake but an original way to further highlight the omnipresent, systematic ambiguity that characterizes the entire work. Many things are fully expressed as those are deliberately just hinted, alluded to more or less openly: empty spaces that the reader must fill and interpret. Less is more, here is another pillar of the narrative: both the characters and the settings are rendered through sparse and targeted descriptions, the dialogues reduced to the essential. "In una stanza sconosciuta" is a deeply introverted and introspective book, yet not at all nuanced, there is no "delicacy," no sugarcoating: all emotions are rendered in a very sharp manner, the images evoked sometimes raw, and yet the whole manages to convey a strong sense of the surreal, almost of mysticism. Minimalism? Expressionism? The power of writing.

As I have already mentioned, "In una stanza sconosciuta" is divided into three stories, packed within two hundred pages or so, titled "The Follower," "The Lover," and "The Guardian." The only common character is the protagonist, and all three are travel stories: from a Greece with mythic reminiscences to the mountains of Lesotho, from central-eastern Africa to the shores of a lake in Switzerland, up to an enigmatic, multifaceted India. But the real action is all inside Damon, his chronic, painful inability to "resolve," to establish a clear and accomplished relationship with the travel companions he encounters in his wandering in search of himself. In the first story, "The Follower," a highly effective "page-turner," Galgut "composes" masterfully a "melody" of attraction and rivalry, with a homoerotic "counterpoint", nothing short of hypnotic, loaded with mystery, sensuality, and tension; a tension fatally destined to remain unresolved. "The Guardian," however, at least in part, reaches a resolution, albeit a tragic one, and stands out from the other two stories for the much less vague outlines, the much more extensive use of strong colors, of sharp details; after all, the story revolves around the desperate struggle to save a life irrevocably headed toward the abyss. Unfortunately, the central chapter, "The Lover," in my opinion, does not express itself on the same, very high emotional levels: the problem is that here Galgut goes so far as to "exaggerate" with the vagueness and incommunicability, ending up sketching a story and characters too little characterized to generate empathy: it lacks a "charismatic" and well-defined pivotal character like Reiner (The Follower) and Anna (The Guardian).

Masterpiece missed by a little, very little, for me. It is read in an extremely fluent manner (especially the first and third parts) despite quite difficult and complex content. A hybrid, an exercise in style, something with nothing started, nothing finished, nothing resolved (Annie Proulx quote); in any case, an enchanting read.