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For the sake of the plot, descriptions are useless. It's pointless to describe landscapes and characters. It's pointless to create metaphors to describe things like voice, feelings, looks.
Many books become great even with a very poor plot, thanks solely to descriptions.
There's nothing wrong with that.
Many others have such a strong plot that descriptions would only be a hindrance, making you lose track of the events that follow. Frenetic. Quite so.
And this is the case. Less than a hundred pages. You finish them, say "eh?!?", and start over.
Perhaps two readings are necessary to fully appreciate it. Make it three.
The last gem of the - for many and for me - greatest Italian writer, released posthumously by testamentary will.
Another noteworthy point is that its cinematic transposition (is that how you say it?) coincides with the last performance of a certain Gian Maria. So, if you like, you could also talk about the last gem of the - for all brain owners - best actor. Let's just drop the "Italian".
It's pointless to describe the plot to you. Well.
Alright, let's say there's a building, a telephone, a Volvo, and a professor. And of course, the indispensable Fantasma Formaggino, Sicilian hero of all time. Really crazy, a fury.
Oh, I forgot... in the end, they all die.
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