Matteo Carmignoli
I caduti

This is the interview I stumbled upon that struck me so deeply, prompting me to get the book. I am sharing it here, but of course, all rights to this belong to the website "Recensioni per esordienti". In "further reading," I will include the link to the official page. Happy reading, and I hope it affects you as it did me, and if it doesn't, I would love to discuss it in the comments :)

<<Your book, starting with the title, does not at all hint at the character—at times noir—of the pages contained within: what inspired you to tell the story of such a torn, unusual, at times angry conscience against itself and the world?

During my life, but especially in my somewhat "troubled" adolescence, I encountered and sometimes even interacted with many socially "uncomfortable" and poorly integrated "characters" who might belong to the category of the "fallen." However, I also saw in some of them a glimmer in the darkness, a light in the depths of the abyss, definitely weaker, but also purer and warmer than the one with which our so-called "normal" acquaintances, or worse still, "respectable" ones, dazzle us every day. Therefore, I believed that this book could be an effective, though certainly uncomfortable, way to give a voice, a means of expression, to those marginalized characters that we usually perceive only as a discordant note around us.

Behind those slightly grotesque and awkward figures whose presence sometimes makes us uncomfortable, and other times can even make us laugh, there exists a conscience with its own story. Behind that shady and perhaps even somewhat ridiculous figure who, probably drunk, stares at the glass on their table in some dreary place, there exists a conscience. A conscience that, observing us and the surroundings, reflects on itself and the world, swimming in murky pools full of memories, reliving its mistakes and shattered dreams that, stumbling again and again, made it what it is, leading it to that table that night.

How numerous in this world, do you think, are the "fallen," and more importantly, is there a possibility of redemption for them that does not necessarily lie in death (which you seem to consider as catharsis and supreme peace)?

In my opinion, the true "fallen" are not that many. I believe that a certain quirkiness or uncomfortable peculiarity is not enough to define them as such. I don't think it's enough to have specific tastes in a particular field or interests that diverge from those of the "masses."

The fallen are those who will always feel incompatible with the surrounding world, those who, even while dressing like others, doing what others do, trying to stick to the same script, unintentionally or not, will always be off-key, always perceived as a piece forcibly wedged into the wrong spot in the puzzle.

Some from childhood, others after a specific event that marked them forever, the fallen, born clumsy and awkward, "stained" by a particular stigma, stumbled upon some obstacle on their path, hurting themselves irreparably. For this reason, they will never walk like others. They are probably destined to limp their entire lives, desperately trying to keep up with others.

Honestly, I don't know if there is a possibility of true catharsis for the fallen, but certainly for some of them there can be short-term moments of redemption, such as having managed to assert their unique abilities and uncomfortable sensitivity, which sometimes can transform from a burden into a gift, to achieve an uncommon goal, like creating something of artistic value.

In the epilogue of your book, Lucifer appears in all his fragility of a victim before his malice as a perpetrator: do you perhaps believe there is room for pietas directed precisely at those who have made cruelty a lifelong conduct?

In some cases, I believe the perpetrator can suffer as much as the victim, if not more. This absolutely does not justify his actions and the suffering he inflicts. However, as I already said, we must not forget that behind every subject, as inconvenient and harmful as they may appear, there is a conscience with its own story, perhaps troubled and full of pain.

We are all a bit like a building, some a little house, others perhaps a gigantic skyscraper. This building must withstand the elements and perhaps acts of vandalism, if not even bombings. The average subject has fairly solid foundations, but the fallen do not. Therefore, the fallen are more fragile and delicate structures compared to others, and, unable to withstand the violence of the external world for too long, they might collapse at any moment, involving other people in their ruinous fall.

So, of course, we cannot ignore the harm done by these individuals in their collapse, but we should also not forget that the first to have collapsed, reduced to rubble, are themselves. Underneath, perhaps, these "fallen" only wanted to be like the "normal" ones, instead of dragging behind their eternal fragility, sometimes turned into torment, which, in the collapse, can even manifest as "cruelty," be it physical or psychological.

Do you think that many tragic news events are the offspring of the demon that inhabits each of us? And how explainable are they as spontaneous and unpredictable raptus as opposed to sedimented and avoidable discomfort that eventually implodes (in the form of suicide) or explodes (in homicide) with unusual violence?

I believe that in everyone there is an eternal conflict between the need to do what we have been taught to consider right and the need to experience what we have been taught to consider wrong. The average existence, in my opinion, is a sort of pendulum that swings from the periphery of the conventionally right to that of the conventionally wrong, without delving too deeply into either area, not exceeding in neither good nor evil.

We all have an inner demon that sometimes encourages us to experience evil, but those who have a fairly strong will and a conscience not too sensitive and receptive to stimuli have the necessary antibodies to withstand its temptations. Those who do not fully meet these requirements risk giving in to the advances of the Demon and therefore delve into the territories of evil that have always intrigued them, more or less consciously, and perhaps remain mired there. The fallen are part of this human category.

I think that, despite all their dangerous fragility and sensitivity, the fallen should be considered healthy individuals. Therefore, I believe that their actions, sometimes harmful to others and/or themselves, should not be considered a raptus but rather an accumulation of suffering and discomfort that eventually overflows, exploding in anger towards themselves, for their inadequacy, and towards others, for the envied naturalness in facing life.