Massimo Lugli
L'Adepto

Evil is among us.

Between black masses, desecrated churches, and infants (perhaps) sacrificed to the Evil One, among mysterious blood-red writings, premonitory nightmares, satanic rituals, voodoo spells, and séances, the protagonist of Massimo Lugli's latest novel, "L'Adepto," takes us into the impenetrable and inverted universe over which Evil reigns supreme. A world entirely within our reach: just go a little further, observe for yourself, and follow in the footsteps of the journalist-investigator Marco Corvino (effectively the writer's alter ego).

A novel that you read in one go. Not only for what it tells but mainly for the way it is told: never a word too many or out of place, never a drop in tone, never a concession to clichés: the descriptions are sparkling and meticulously pay attention to revealing details, the dialogues are full of rhythm (almost like a film script), and the finale crafted according to the rules of the best thrillers, with a surprise twist where a strong imprint of irony and humor steps in. 

Corvino is a mature man, an old-school journalist, one of those who exhaust every resource for the urge to see with their own eyes, one who would never, ever betray a source from his personal network of informants. But he is so traditionalist that he has never managed to break through in his work: too steadfast, excessively unwilling to worship the high-ups. The key positions at his newspaper are covered by ambitious young people who possess a very different scale of values and principles; the ever-present figure of the "servile journalist." And it is precisely one of such superiors, the deputy director, who assigns Corvino to shed light on a recent news event: on November 2, near the cemetery, a decapitated animal is found next to an altar surrounded by black candles and a bloodstained note written in an unknown language. Despite being initially veiled by skepticism, the protagonist will eventually realize, to his cost, that things often conceal a rather cryptic visage and are quite different from how they initially appear.

The descriptions are the strength of these pages. Consider the depiction of Lidia, whom Corvino (now a separated father) meets by chance at the zoo; a love at first sight that ignites passion (and love) in him in no time. He is struck by her "wolf-like teeth of a little beast," her "firm and arrogant" breasts, her beauty "indecipherable and outside the norms." Or the portrait of the Portuguese psychic Giacinto, with his "too many gold teeth," flashy rings, "shirt open over a consumptive's chest."

Besides being a novel, "L'Adepto" can be seen as a file on the occult: it opens perspectives of knowledge of an underground world, revealing its techniques and atrocities. The hell Massimo Lugli takes us to is a tangible hell, in the background of which victims and executioners thrash about, the have-nots and the "Chosen of Satan." But it is also an intimate, personal hell: that of the protagonist plagued by chilling anxiety attacks and intimidated by despicable criminals; the same criminals who, through satanism, hold fragile minds in their grip, posing as followers of a purely spiritual doctrine, while enriching themselves through the (porn) market of films for pedophiles. 

Unsettling.

"Where there is much light, the shadow is darker."

(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)