fusillo

And anyway, I was saying just to say, there are still some good things to be found in the bookstore... The same Ammaniti, albeit monothematic, isn’t that bad after all.

@IL68: I don't think so: you said that genius is needed, it’s sought after but not found, hence the mediocre ones get inflated. I, taking inspiration from the linked interview, in which the publisher Fazi candidly admits to having published a book by a writer who can’t write (Melissa P) just because “the character was there,” say that publishers don’t care about genius at all and they happily offload a ton of rubbish. The conclusion is the same but the premise is different, and only God knows how important premises are...

"Ammaniti is the example of mediocre writers who are continuously sponsored because everyone is frantically searching for a new 'genius' of literature, as the idea that there are few of them torments us." ---> Well, I doubt that publishers are tormented because they can't find any narrative 'genius.' In fact, sometimes they are truly content with very little: Luca Telese » Su Melissa l’ira di Fazi

The new novel by Ammaniti tells the story of a boy who has some problems... Now that's a novelty.

No, he's the protagonist of a film by Ciprì and Maresco. But, poor guy, they must have really put him through the wringer...

"The comedy par excellence of the Thirties, along with the esteemed colleagues Keaton and Chaplin." ---> Keaton is more twenties than thirties, huh... But oh well...

Here, in the linked page, you can find their name. However, I need to correct a couple of "personal details." They are under fifty years old, and the period of their collaboration with Bertoli is the late eighties. All this, for the record!

Isis, only the sin is spoken of.

I’ll join Bartavello's comment and share my current view of "old" singer-songwriters: in my area, there lives a singer-songwriter, who is today, well, between fifty and sixty years old. He’s not well-known, so I won’t name him, but in his heyday, let’s say the early eighties, he wrote some truly remarkable songs for Pierangelo Bertoli. Songs that, for instance, would really stand out in the repertoire of a Mannoia today. Well, after his collaboration with Bertoli ended, our singer-songwriter entered the limbo of a solo career that didn’t bring him much satisfaction. Some time ago, he invited me to one of his concerts in the square, "It's free!" he was keen to point out. It was a type of theatrical song show, in the vein of Gaber, to put it mildly. He sang his old songs, interspersing them with long, tedious, inconclusive monologues (we’re talking about a singer-songwriter, so a supposed master of thought and life) and failed gags. A poorly written show (co-written with a famous comedian from Zelig) and completely unpolished. At one point, in the middle of one of his sermons, the band’s saxophonist approaches a microphone, tests it by tapping it with a finger, and says in a strong Tuscan accent: "Do you realize that the people couldn’t care less about what you’re saying?". Here’s the thing, I understand that we can’t lump everyone together, that this particular singer-songwriter from my area can’t be taken as an example, etc. But that scene is really, how can I say, significant for me...