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If You Kept a Record of Sins
A prismatic novel that records the indelible marks a mother leaves on her son after she abandons their home in Italy for a business she’s building in Romania. Lorenzo, just a young boy when his mother leaves, recalls the incisive fragments of their life - when they would playfully wrestle each other, watch the sunrise, or test out his mother’s newest scientific creation. Now a young man, Lorenzo travels to Romania for his mother’s funeral and reflects on the strangeness of today’s Europe, which masks itself as a beacon of Western civilization while iniquity and exploitation run rampant. With elliptical, piercing prose, Bajani tells a story of abandonment and initiation, of sentimental education and shattered illusions, of unconditional love.
206 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
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About the author
Andrea Bajani
42 books110 followersScrittore e giornalista italiano. Autore di romanzi e racconti, ma anche di reportage, opere teatrali e traduzioni di opere dal francese e dall'inglese. Nel 2002 pubblica il suo primo romanzo, Morto un Papa.
Nel 2008 vince il Premio Super Mondello, il Premio Recanati e il Premio Brancati con il romanzo Se consideri le colpe .
Nel 2011 vince il Premio Bagutta con il romanzo Ogni promessa.
Nel 2008 vince il Premio Super Mondello, il Premio Recanati e il Premio Brancati con il romanzo Se consideri le colpe .
Nel 2011 vince il Premio Bagutta con il romanzo Ogni promessa.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 122 reviews
February 10, 2022
C'È QUALCOSA DI NUOVO OGGI NEL SOLE,
ANZI D'ANTICO... UN'ARIA D'ALTRO LUOGO E D'ALTRO MESE
E D'ALTRA VITA...
”Cover Boy”, straziante film di Carmine Amoroso, 2006. Con Eduard Gabia, Luca Lionello, Chiara Caselli, Francesco Dominedò, Luciana Littizzetto.
È un piccolo libro, ma molto grande.
È corto, ma c'è dentro tanto.
Si legge in fretta, ma non si vuole arrivare in fondo troppo presto.
Mi ha colpito perché contiene qualcosa che già conosco, qualcosa che sa di antico, di classico, riproposto nel più convincente dei modi, ma porta aria fresca e novità.
È scritto da qualcuno i cui occhi vedono quello che pensa e non solo quello che ha davanti, per parafrasare lo stesso Bajani.
Una madre che abbandona, si trasferisce. A Bucarest, nella Romania appena libera dalla dittatura. Un figlio che fa il viaggio per andare a seppellirla, e capirla.
Forse scoprirla, se riesce, conoscerla.
2008, “Mar Nero”, buon esordio registico di Federico Bondi, che non si è più ripetuto. Con ilaria Occhini, Corso Salani.
Benvenuto Andrea Bajani, mi hai regalato momenti bellissimi e personaggi indimenticabili, tra cui un padre silente ma presente che mi resterà dentro a lungo.
Mi pare di aver letto che il mese prossimo uscirà il tuo nuovo romanzo e io lo leggerò senz'altro (‘Ogni promessa’).
Che la Romania faccia bene agli artisti?
Oltre questo ottimo libro, mi vengono in mente alcuni buoni film italiani che con la Romania hanno a che fare, 'Mar Nero', 'Cover Boy', e il più recente ‘Banat’ (sicuramente migliori del loro tanto chiacchierato ma modesto 'Francesca').
"Banat-Il viaggio" è un film del 2015 di Adriano Valerio, con Edoardo Gabbriellini, Elena Radonicich, Piera Degli Esposti.
”Cover Boy”, straziante film di Carmine Amoroso, 2006. Con Eduard Gabia, Luca Lionello, Chiara Caselli, Francesco Dominedò, Luciana Littizzetto.
È un piccolo libro, ma molto grande.
È corto, ma c'è dentro tanto.
Si legge in fretta, ma non si vuole arrivare in fondo troppo presto.
Mi ha colpito perché contiene qualcosa che già conosco, qualcosa che sa di antico, di classico, riproposto nel più convincente dei modi, ma porta aria fresca e novità.
È scritto da qualcuno i cui occhi vedono quello che pensa e non solo quello che ha davanti, per parafrasare lo stesso Bajani.
Una madre che abbandona, si trasferisce. A Bucarest, nella Romania appena libera dalla dittatura. Un figlio che fa il viaggio per andare a seppellirla, e capirla.
Forse scoprirla, se riesce, conoscerla.
2008, “Mar Nero”, buon esordio registico di Federico Bondi, che non si è più ripetuto. Con ilaria Occhini, Corso Salani.
Benvenuto Andrea Bajani, mi hai regalato momenti bellissimi e personaggi indimenticabili, tra cui un padre silente ma presente che mi resterà dentro a lungo.
Mi pare di aver letto che il mese prossimo uscirà il tuo nuovo romanzo e io lo leggerò senz'altro (‘Ogni promessa’).
Che la Romania faccia bene agli artisti?
Oltre questo ottimo libro, mi vengono in mente alcuni buoni film italiani che con la Romania hanno a che fare, 'Mar Nero', 'Cover Boy', e il più recente ‘Banat’ (sicuramente migliori del loro tanto chiacchierato ma modesto 'Francesca').
"Banat-Il viaggio" è un film del 2015 di Adriano Valerio, con Edoardo Gabbriellini, Elena Radonicich, Piera Degli Esposti.
March 25, 2018
Nessuno torna indietro
È già più di una settimana che ho finito questo libro e ancora non mi decido.
È un libro stranissimo che si presta secondo me sia a stroncature senza appello che a lodi sperticate.
È un romanzo che lascia un segno amaro e una tristezza così diffusa da non lasciare indifferenti; mentre lo leggevo mi sono chiesta più di una volta se tutto quello che Bajani scriveva potesse davvero essere solo frutto della sua fantasia o se non ci fosse invece almeno una piccola nota autobiografica.
Insomma, quello che mi chiedevo man mano che andavo avanti, era "ma come può uno scrittore scrivere di un qualcosa di così vivo e doloroso, e allo stesso tempo comunicare questo senso di vuoto, di assenza e di abbandono, senza averlo in qualche modo vissuto?".
Forse non riesco a spiegarmi fino in fondo, ma non mi è sembrato di leggere un romanzo, ma una storia viva, che alla fine mi ha lasciata amareggiata, annichilita, stordita.
Andrea Bajani, e questo a mio parere è un grande merito, per 170 pagine non è più Andrea Bajani, ma è veramente Lorenzo, dolorosamente solo: a Bucarest e con i suoi ricordi.
È già più di una settimana che ho finito questo libro e ancora non mi decido.
È un libro stranissimo che si presta secondo me sia a stroncature senza appello che a lodi sperticate.
È un romanzo che lascia un segno amaro e una tristezza così diffusa da non lasciare indifferenti; mentre lo leggevo mi sono chiesta più di una volta se tutto quello che Bajani scriveva potesse davvero essere solo frutto della sua fantasia o se non ci fosse invece almeno una piccola nota autobiografica.
Insomma, quello che mi chiedevo man mano che andavo avanti, era "ma come può uno scrittore scrivere di un qualcosa di così vivo e doloroso, e allo stesso tempo comunicare questo senso di vuoto, di assenza e di abbandono, senza averlo in qualche modo vissuto?".
Forse non riesco a spiegarmi fino in fondo, ma non mi è sembrato di leggere un romanzo, ma una storia viva, che alla fine mi ha lasciata amareggiata, annichilita, stordita.
Andrea Bajani, e questo a mio parere è un grande merito, per 170 pagine non è più Andrea Bajani, ma è veramente Lorenzo, dolorosamente solo: a Bucarest e con i suoi ricordi.
September 26, 2023
Jedna z ciekawszych książek, jakie miałem przyjemność czytać w ostatnim czasie. Intymna historia o trudnej relacji z matką, o wspomnieniach dorastającego chłopca i o zmieniającej się Rumunii. Pięknie napisana, choć prosto i bez fajerwerków, ale dużo jest tu zdań, które trafiają w moją wrażliwość. Kolejny intrygujący tytuł od Drzazg.
April 29, 2021
Lorenzo's mother dies after he hasn't seen her in many years, and he travels to Romania for her funeral. He meets his mother's former partner (business and love) and others from her life. There are memorable moments and characters like the driver, the new young lover of his mother's former partner, the coffin maker, and a funeral in the middle of a church under construction, attended by the workers. The novel is written in 2nd person, as in Lorenzo addressing his internal thoughts to his dead mother.
This is an outsider view, of Romania, of his mother. One is probably better than portrayed - Romania. There are multiple characters talking about how Romanians "don't want to work" and a lot of negative stereotypes along those lines. Ceaușescu Palace looms in the background as a reminder of recent oppression, which the characters seem to feel in their bones, while at the same time trying to separate from it. Lorenzo is also an outsider to his mother, since she left him with his Dad in Italy when he was a child, and came back less and less as she took her "weight loss egg" to the world. Except I get the sense that either her business flopped or it was never a success to begin with, and she was in Romania for different reasons. He seems to know nothing about her decline and how she was living when she died.
Another side note - I know a Romanian who had to travel to that country after her mother died and it took months to work through the bureaucracy. Lorenzo must have better connections, because in under one week he has a funeral, cleans out her home, and deals with the business.
One more side note, the title is a Biblical reference, Psalm 130:3, included in many Lenten and funeral rites as well. "If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?" A priest reads this at the mother's funeral and it leads into a confrontation between the son and former partner that felt very smart.
Thank you Archipelago Books for bringing books and authors to us through your translations and publications! I had a copy of this from the publisher through Edelweiss. It came out March 3, 2021.
This is an outsider view, of Romania, of his mother. One is probably better than portrayed - Romania. There are multiple characters talking about how Romanians "don't want to work" and a lot of negative stereotypes along those lines. Ceaușescu Palace looms in the background as a reminder of recent oppression, which the characters seem to feel in their bones, while at the same time trying to separate from it. Lorenzo is also an outsider to his mother, since she left him with his Dad in Italy when he was a child, and came back less and less as she took her "weight loss egg" to the world. Except I get the sense that either her business flopped or it was never a success to begin with, and she was in Romania for different reasons. He seems to know nothing about her decline and how she was living when she died.
Another side note - I know a Romanian who had to travel to that country after her mother died and it took months to work through the bureaucracy. Lorenzo must have better connections, because in under one week he has a funeral, cleans out her home, and deals with the business.
One more side note, the title is a Biblical reference, Psalm 130:3, included in many Lenten and funeral rites as well. "If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?" A priest reads this at the mother's funeral and it leads into a confrontation between the son and former partner that felt very smart.
Thank you Archipelago Books for bringing books and authors to us through your translations and publications! I had a copy of this from the publisher through Edelweiss. It came out March 3, 2021.
March 11, 2021
The enigmatic Lula—the mother of the narrator, Lorenzo—is at the center of this spare but compelling book, which, I believe, can be read on many levels.
The location is Bucharest; the event is her funeral. Lorenzo has not seen or heard from his mother in many years, but it is obvious that she has played a big role in shaping who he is. Years ago, she took off with a man Lorenzo refers to as “her partner”—both in a business sense and a “friends with benefits” sense.
What is Lula’s business? She is the manufacturer of a weight-loss machine, shaped in the form of a giant egg. The egg seems deliberate, a metaphor for the maternal bond that links Lula and Lorenzo. There is an unsettling bond between mother and young son that borders on emotional abuse. The confidences they share, the intimate wrestling, all of it seems like a hint that Lorenzo has an unhealthy love for his mother.
We don’t know quite what this relationship did to him, but the author casually drops some hints. At one point, Lorenzo is at a guard rail and reflects, “I’ve always been afraid of getting too close—my legs might take over and make the leap for me.” What is the author really implying? As readers, we don’t know, but we can guess.
Throughout, Romania and its troubled history mirrors the troubled back story of Lorenzo. There are many references to the oppressive reign of Ceausescu. At his palace, tourists take photos, mindlessly skimming over the havoc and horror of the Ceausecu years. They capture an image but not a reality.
The title of the book comes from Psalm 130: “If you kept a record of sins, oh Lord, who could stand with you?” Lula may have sinned but she was also sinned against—cold and distant parents, a lover who eventually deserts her, and a life that is ultimately in shambles. Flawlessly translated by Elizabeth Harris, Andrea Bajani packs a lot into this deceptively slight book.
The location is Bucharest; the event is her funeral. Lorenzo has not seen or heard from his mother in many years, but it is obvious that she has played a big role in shaping who he is. Years ago, she took off with a man Lorenzo refers to as “her partner”—both in a business sense and a “friends with benefits” sense.
What is Lula’s business? She is the manufacturer of a weight-loss machine, shaped in the form of a giant egg. The egg seems deliberate, a metaphor for the maternal bond that links Lula and Lorenzo. There is an unsettling bond between mother and young son that borders on emotional abuse. The confidences they share, the intimate wrestling, all of it seems like a hint that Lorenzo has an unhealthy love for his mother.
We don’t know quite what this relationship did to him, but the author casually drops some hints. At one point, Lorenzo is at a guard rail and reflects, “I’ve always been afraid of getting too close—my legs might take over and make the leap for me.” What is the author really implying? As readers, we don’t know, but we can guess.
Throughout, Romania and its troubled history mirrors the troubled back story of Lorenzo. There are many references to the oppressive reign of Ceausescu. At his palace, tourists take photos, mindlessly skimming over the havoc and horror of the Ceausecu years. They capture an image but not a reality.
The title of the book comes from Psalm 130: “If you kept a record of sins, oh Lord, who could stand with you?” Lula may have sinned but she was also sinned against—cold and distant parents, a lover who eventually deserts her, and a life that is ultimately in shambles. Flawlessly translated by Elizabeth Harris, Andrea Bajani packs a lot into this deceptively slight book.
March 29, 2021
We first encounter Lorenzo as he lands in Bucharest to attend the funeral of Lula, his mother, a mother who he has not seen in years, and to wrap up her business affairs. What follows is an almost stream of consciousness interior monologue to her in which he remembers their uneven history, the damage he incurred due to her absence, and what he knows about her life and what caused her to behave as she did. Her successful business enterprise, based in Rumania post Ceaușescu, was her excuse for living most of her final years there. Lorenzo muses on her problematic relationships and what he knew about her from the little she revealed. His explorations of Bucharest are riveting, a fascinating city not explored in modern fiction, at least not in English translations, until now.
In an essay Salman Rushdie bemoans the lack of availability of translated literature in English, but the wonderful Archipelago Books is righting that wrong. This is an excellent example of their choices. This deceptively slender novel, originally published in Italy in 2007, packs more in its less than 200 pages than many of greater length. Kudos also to the translator, Elizabeth Harris.
In an essay Salman Rushdie bemoans the lack of availability of translated literature in English, but the wonderful Archipelago Books is righting that wrong. This is an excellent example of their choices. This deceptively slender novel, originally published in Italy in 2007, packs more in its less than 200 pages than many of greater length. Kudos also to the translator, Elizabeth Harris.
November 16, 2023
Czegoś mi zabrakło, ale tam gdzie odkryłam jakiś brak, nadbudowany został on moimi emocjami.
March 11, 2018
Un libro breve e denso che trasuda tristezza da ogni pagina. Non c'è solo la la Romania post Ceausescu, un Paese distrutto diventato terra di conquista per imprenditori con pochi scrupoli. C'è anche la storia di formazione del protagonista fino al viaggio a Bucarest per assistere al funerale della madre. Soprattutto, c'è il fallimento di tutti i rapporti umani.
Gli italiani che atterravano a Bucarest
"Erano cinquantenni imbolsiti, la barba di qualche giorno, borse un po’ sciatte piene di cose italiane da mettere in casa. Li riconoscevi anche per lo sguardo che avevano, lo puntavano tutto intorno con un misto di arroganza e sazietà, con la boria di chi è padrone due volte proprio perché è in terra straniera. I più giovani invece camminavano in fretta con lo sguardo determinato e un po’ vacuo, meglio vestiti, con una valigia di pochi giorni e una borsa per il computer. Loro la Romania la vedevano dall’alto, venendo giù con l’aereo, qualcuno alzava gli occhi quando il carrello agganciava la pista, poi raccoglieva i suoi fogli e li infilava dentro la borsa. Lavoravano per multinazionali importanti, centinaia o migliaia di romeni che faticavano per loro giorno e notte. Avevano facce che rimanevano uguali per tutto il poco tempo che restavano li, raccolti in aeroporto, poi trasportati e tenuti rinchiusi in azienda per uno o più giorni. Lì dentro infilavano una riunione dopo l’altra, proiettavano lucidi sulle pareti, correggevano grafici a torta, controllavano i conti e stavano in camicia e cravatta allentata, facevano sfuriate con la capigliatura scomposta e le mani sudate. Per uno o più giorni si alzavano prima dell’alba e poco dopo erano già dentro l’azienda, per uscirne quando era notte e farsi trasportare in albergo per terminare in maglietta il lavoro con il portatile nell’altra metà di un letto matrimoniale. Poi quando la trasferta finiva c’era sempre qualcuno che li aspettava fuori dall’azienda, li caricava in macchina e li portava all’aeroporto. Quando l’aereo si sganciava dalla pista e saliva su, loro erano di nuovo sui fogli e con le stesse facce con cui erano arrivati, facce che non se n’erano andate dall’Italia nemmeno per un momento.
---
P.S. Perdonatemi, sono allergico ai ringraziamenti-fiume a fine libro. Qui Bajani per un ebook di 80 pagine nette ringrazia più o meno 70 persone. Per Guerra e pace basterebbe un elenco telefonico?
Gli italiani che atterravano a Bucarest
"Erano cinquantenni imbolsiti, la barba di qualche giorno, borse un po’ sciatte piene di cose italiane da mettere in casa. Li riconoscevi anche per lo sguardo che avevano, lo puntavano tutto intorno con un misto di arroganza e sazietà, con la boria di chi è padrone due volte proprio perché è in terra straniera. I più giovani invece camminavano in fretta con lo sguardo determinato e un po’ vacuo, meglio vestiti, con una valigia di pochi giorni e una borsa per il computer. Loro la Romania la vedevano dall’alto, venendo giù con l’aereo, qualcuno alzava gli occhi quando il carrello agganciava la pista, poi raccoglieva i suoi fogli e li infilava dentro la borsa. Lavoravano per multinazionali importanti, centinaia o migliaia di romeni che faticavano per loro giorno e notte. Avevano facce che rimanevano uguali per tutto il poco tempo che restavano li, raccolti in aeroporto, poi trasportati e tenuti rinchiusi in azienda per uno o più giorni. Lì dentro infilavano una riunione dopo l’altra, proiettavano lucidi sulle pareti, correggevano grafici a torta, controllavano i conti e stavano in camicia e cravatta allentata, facevano sfuriate con la capigliatura scomposta e le mani sudate. Per uno o più giorni si alzavano prima dell’alba e poco dopo erano già dentro l’azienda, per uscirne quando era notte e farsi trasportare in albergo per terminare in maglietta il lavoro con il portatile nell’altra metà di un letto matrimoniale. Poi quando la trasferta finiva c’era sempre qualcuno che li aspettava fuori dall’azienda, li caricava in macchina e li portava all’aeroporto. Quando l’aereo si sganciava dalla pista e saliva su, loro erano di nuovo sui fogli e con le stesse facce con cui erano arrivati, facce che non se n’erano andate dall’Italia nemmeno per un momento.
---
P.S. Perdonatemi, sono allergico ai ringraziamenti-fiume a fine libro. Qui Bajani per un ebook di 80 pagine nette ringrazia più o meno 70 persone. Per Guerra e pace basterebbe un elenco telefonico?
July 15, 2024
3,5 stelute 😊
O poveste complexa, in ciuda dimensiunii reduse. Mi-a placut foarte mult perspectiva naratiunii, i-a conferit o doza mare de intimitate.
O poveste complexa, in ciuda dimensiunii reduse. Mi-a placut foarte mult perspectiva naratiunii, i-a conferit o doza mare de intimitate.
January 1, 2025
4th time reading: 12/31/2024
Couldn't finish my year without revisiting this. Really a beautiful little book
3rd time reading: 4/7/2023
I think this may be my favorite book, or at least the book that is the most meaningful to me, and Lorenzo the character who I value most in all of fiction, despite not knowing much about him.
There's still plenty to be said about the book besides what I wrote in my past reviews (like about Romania as the setting, which I've left out entirely), but I don't think any of it really needs saying. I cherish this story, and I'm grateful that it was written.
2nd time reading: 10/16/2021
Bumped up to 5 stars
This story has been haunting me for the past year. Has any book ever lingered in the back of my mind in this way before...? I don't think so.
It's just so beautifully written. I didn't mention in my first review, but the whole thing is in 1st person, but addressed to "you," Lorenzo's mother. I think that I wasn't able to give this 5 stars last year because of the strange distance between Lorenzo and the reader making a lot of the novel feel somewhat cold, like after 200 pages I still didn't know Lorenzo at all. But the 2nd time around, knowing what to expect, I was able to sink into the story much faster, and of course I understood this time that it's not about getting to know Lorenzo factually (his age, his occupation, his hobbies), it's about understanding him, deeply, and extrapolating what the absence of his mother has maybe meant for him in the parts of his life that we don't get to see. At least, that's what I took from it.
I'm sure I'll reread this again some day.
1st time reading: 11/8/2020
4.5 stars
The beauty of this book really sneaks up on you.
It follows a young Italian man named Lorenzo who travels to Romania to attend his mother's funeral and tie up some loose ends involving her business. Lorenzo's mother left him when he was a child so that she could be free to pursue entrepreneurship in Bucharest with a man named Anselmi, her lover and business partner. The story is really sparse, very simple. The chapters alternate between the present day and Lorenzo's memories of his mother before she became a ghost in his life. We see how much he loved her as a child and the way she drifted farther and farther away from him and it's absolutely heartbreaking, in the most subtle way. I think it's the way her leaving is dragged out for so long.
It grew harder and harder to find any space to put the new souvenirs you'd brought without burying the old. They were from every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence.
I mean, ouch.
And then as an adult, when his only contact with his mother is her yearly call at Christmas:
Your face, I'd tried to reconstruct your face every year on Christmas day, measuring your voice on that single phone call, like a blind man running his hands over someone's features. As the years went by, my image of you wasted away; I'd compare your photo to that voice speaking to me over the phone, and it felt like I'd wound up on a different line. That voice, ever more rasping and heavy-- I didn't know what to do with that voice, how to tie it to you.
Much of the book is like this, older Lorenzo considering his mother's role in his life. She left him, but it wasn't like she disappeared off the face of the earth or anything. She just slowly faded away, and he knew where she was and what she was doing, but the two never addressed her absence. How do you come to terms with that? It's probably hard enough for a child to understand a parent who leaves and vanishes without a trace, so I can't imagine a parent who leaves but is still...there.
Lorenzo isn't super repressed, but he also never shows any huge displays of emotions, and that sweet spot Bajani finds is absolutely lovely. I felt like I was played like a fiddle. There's no emotional manipulation in this, no exploitation of Lorenzo's complex grief, and that only makes the book even more powerful.
Thank you to Elizabeth Harris for the wonderful translation and to my coworker who randomly put this galley into my hands :)
Couldn't finish my year without revisiting this. Really a beautiful little book
3rd time reading: 4/7/2023
I think this may be my favorite book, or at least the book that is the most meaningful to me, and Lorenzo the character who I value most in all of fiction, despite not knowing much about him.
There's still plenty to be said about the book besides what I wrote in my past reviews (like about Romania as the setting, which I've left out entirely), but I don't think any of it really needs saying. I cherish this story, and I'm grateful that it was written.
2nd time reading: 10/16/2021
Bumped up to 5 stars
This story has been haunting me for the past year. Has any book ever lingered in the back of my mind in this way before...? I don't think so.
It's just so beautifully written. I didn't mention in my first review, but the whole thing is in 1st person, but addressed to "you," Lorenzo's mother. I think that I wasn't able to give this 5 stars last year because of the strange distance between Lorenzo and the reader making a lot of the novel feel somewhat cold, like after 200 pages I still didn't know Lorenzo at all. But the 2nd time around, knowing what to expect, I was able to sink into the story much faster, and of course I understood this time that it's not about getting to know Lorenzo factually (his age, his occupation, his hobbies), it's about understanding him, deeply, and extrapolating what the absence of his mother has maybe meant for him in the parts of his life that we don't get to see. At least, that's what I took from it.
I'm sure I'll reread this again some day.
1st time reading: 11/8/2020
4.5 stars
The beauty of this book really sneaks up on you.
It follows a young Italian man named Lorenzo who travels to Romania to attend his mother's funeral and tie up some loose ends involving her business. Lorenzo's mother left him when he was a child so that she could be free to pursue entrepreneurship in Bucharest with a man named Anselmi, her lover and business partner. The story is really sparse, very simple. The chapters alternate between the present day and Lorenzo's memories of his mother before she became a ghost in his life. We see how much he loved her as a child and the way she drifted farther and farther away from him and it's absolutely heartbreaking, in the most subtle way. I think it's the way her leaving is dragged out for so long.
It grew harder and harder to find any space to put the new souvenirs you'd brought without burying the old. They were from every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence.
I mean, ouch.
And then as an adult, when his only contact with his mother is her yearly call at Christmas:
Your face, I'd tried to reconstruct your face every year on Christmas day, measuring your voice on that single phone call, like a blind man running his hands over someone's features. As the years went by, my image of you wasted away; I'd compare your photo to that voice speaking to me over the phone, and it felt like I'd wound up on a different line. That voice, ever more rasping and heavy-- I didn't know what to do with that voice, how to tie it to you.
Much of the book is like this, older Lorenzo considering his mother's role in his life. She left him, but it wasn't like she disappeared off the face of the earth or anything. She just slowly faded away, and he knew where she was and what she was doing, but the two never addressed her absence. How do you come to terms with that? It's probably hard enough for a child to understand a parent who leaves and vanishes without a trace, so I can't imagine a parent who leaves but is still...there.
Lorenzo isn't super repressed, but he also never shows any huge displays of emotions, and that sweet spot Bajani finds is absolutely lovely. I felt like I was played like a fiddle. There's no emotional manipulation in this, no exploitation of Lorenzo's complex grief, and that only makes the book even more powerful.
Thank you to Elizabeth Harris for the wonderful translation and to my coworker who randomly put this galley into my hands :)
April 22, 2024
wspaniała. pod koniec czegoś mi zabrakło, ale całość naprawdę jest jedyna w swoim rodzaju i będę o niej jeszcze długo myśleć.
December 5, 2023
To, co w „Jeśli zachowasz pamięć o grzechu” wyszło naprawdę dobrze, to Rumunia: skołowana i z czkawką po poprzednim ustroju, gwałtownie wytrząśnięta z komunistycznej rzeczywistości, próbująca odnaleźć się w całkiem nowym świecie. Rumunia jako Dziki Zachód, jako Ziemia Obiecana, jako pole bitwy tych, którzy najeżdżają, kolonizują i ustalają nowy ład, oraz tych, którzy pod przymusem ekonomicznym i z chęci dogonienia wielkiego zachodu próbują się dostosować. To się udało i tam, gdzie Bajani skupiał się właśnie na nieprzepracowanej historii Rumunii i na jej stolicy widzianej jako zderzenie przeszłości z przyszłością, tam czułam, że czytam dobrą, przemyślaną, żywą powieść.
Ale „Jeśli…” to nie fabularyzowana historia Rumunii w pigułce, a historia relacji (i pożegnania) matki i syna. Sam pomysł na główną linię fabularną uważam za naprawdę udany: kobieta porzucająca nastoletniego syna, by ruszyć w świat za kochankiem i własnymi ambicjami; syn borykający się ze wspomnieniami i nieprzepracowaną traumą, odbywający podróż, by uczestniczyć w pogrzebie właściwie obcej, ale wciąż w jakiś sposób fascynującej matki. Brzmiało obiecująco.
Niestety, zawiodła realizacja . Bajaniemu nie udało się bowiem chyba najważniejsze: wciągnięcie mnie jako czytelniczki głębiej, wrzucenie między bohaterów, zaangażowanie w ich dramat, dotknięcie do żywego. Wbrew sobie (bo naprawdę chciałam polubić tę powieść) do samego końca pozostałam gdzieś z boku, czując niewiele z palety możliwych emocji, które, zważywszy na przeciekawy i niezwykle trudny temat, powinny w tej powieści wybuchnąć.
Nie winiłabym tu jednak tej nieco wycofanej i oszczędnej w środkach wyrazu narracji (która, moim zdaniem, świetnie pasowała do głównego bohatera), bo i tak da się pisać powieści kompletnie dekonstruujące czytelnika i jego strefę komfortu (patrz: „Szklany ogród” Tatiany Țîbuleac czy znacznie starsza „Droga” Cormaca McCarthy'ego).
Tu zwyczajnie zabrakło iskry, która rozpaliłaby dobry skądinąd pomysł.
Ale „Jeśli…” to nie fabularyzowana historia Rumunii w pigułce, a historia relacji (i pożegnania) matki i syna. Sam pomysł na główną linię fabularną uważam za naprawdę udany: kobieta porzucająca nastoletniego syna, by ruszyć w świat za kochankiem i własnymi ambicjami; syn borykający się ze wspomnieniami i nieprzepracowaną traumą, odbywający podróż, by uczestniczyć w pogrzebie właściwie obcej, ale wciąż w jakiś sposób fascynującej matki. Brzmiało obiecująco.
Niestety, zawiodła realizacja . Bajaniemu nie udało się bowiem chyba najważniejsze: wciągnięcie mnie jako czytelniczki głębiej, wrzucenie między bohaterów, zaangażowanie w ich dramat, dotknięcie do żywego. Wbrew sobie (bo naprawdę chciałam polubić tę powieść) do samego końca pozostałam gdzieś z boku, czując niewiele z palety możliwych emocji, które, zważywszy na przeciekawy i niezwykle trudny temat, powinny w tej powieści wybuchnąć.
Nie winiłabym tu jednak tej nieco wycofanej i oszczędnej w środkach wyrazu narracji (która, moim zdaniem, świetnie pasowała do głównego bohatera), bo i tak da się pisać powieści kompletnie dekonstruujące czytelnika i jego strefę komfortu (patrz: „Szklany ogród” Tatiany Țîbuleac czy znacznie starsza „Droga” Cormaca McCarthy'ego).
Tu zwyczajnie zabrakło iskry, która rozpaliłaby dobry skądinąd pomysł.
February 5, 2024
jedyna w swoim rodzaju
April 2, 2021
I have sung the praises of Archipelago Books before, the titles they select are always fascinating and the books themselves beautifully designed. "If You Kept a Record of Sins" is no exception.
This is a remarkably poignant book, one that evokes a great deal of emotion in its telling of the sorrowful relationship between a mother and son.
The story starts with the son, Lorenzo, learning that his mother, Lula, has died. When Lorenzo was a child, Lula had begun traveling from Italy to Romania for business. These trips became ever more frequent, and before long Lula, whose affair with her business partner — the slimy, overbearing Anselmi — she never made much attempt to hide, has moved permanently to Romania, leaving Lorenzo to be raised alone by his stepfather, a kind, brokenhearted man.
Lorenzo's relationship with his mother is complicated, to say the least. He worships her, and yet at the same time is all too aware that she abandoned him to live a more carefree life.
All these emotions are front and center in the story, which takes place entirely in Romania, though its tourism board will certainly not be distributing copies of this one. Romanians here come off as largely a crass people, and Bucharest as a cesspit only notable for its People's Palace and the legacy of Romania's executed dictator, Nicolai Ceausescu.
I spent a few days in Bucharest about ten years ago and I can't say I came away with warm feelings of the place either, which feels every step the ex-communist city it is, but Lorenzo is also lashing out at the country for having taken his mother from him, and behind his disgust at the vulgarity of the cities' inhabitants and the city itself is the unspoken accusation he wields at his mother — "you abandoned me for this? For them?"
Andrea Bajani is a wonderful writer, and he conjures up some lovely images here. Lula's chauffeur, Christian, is described by Lorenzo as having eyes "like candies in paper wrappers, wrinkles radiating from the edges" and he speaks of the souvenirs his mother would bring back to him from her business trips abroad, before she stopped visiting entirely, as coming from "every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence."
This is a very quick read, the words go down as sweetly as honey, but it also feels incomplete. This is, of course, one half of the story, and questions remain over the turn Lula's life took toward the end. As memorable as the descriptions here are, as lovely as the translation is, the whole thing feels impermanent.
The impression I got, even as I read, was that the whole thing was somewhat fleeting. Much like Lorenzo's mother, it's lovely when it's here but, when it's over, just how will it be remembered? Will these sweet words hold up over time?
This is a remarkably poignant book, one that evokes a great deal of emotion in its telling of the sorrowful relationship between a mother and son.
The story starts with the son, Lorenzo, learning that his mother, Lula, has died. When Lorenzo was a child, Lula had begun traveling from Italy to Romania for business. These trips became ever more frequent, and before long Lula, whose affair with her business partner — the slimy, overbearing Anselmi — she never made much attempt to hide, has moved permanently to Romania, leaving Lorenzo to be raised alone by his stepfather, a kind, brokenhearted man.
Lorenzo's relationship with his mother is complicated, to say the least. He worships her, and yet at the same time is all too aware that she abandoned him to live a more carefree life.
All these emotions are front and center in the story, which takes place entirely in Romania, though its tourism board will certainly not be distributing copies of this one. Romanians here come off as largely a crass people, and Bucharest as a cesspit only notable for its People's Palace and the legacy of Romania's executed dictator, Nicolai Ceausescu.
I spent a few days in Bucharest about ten years ago and I can't say I came away with warm feelings of the place either, which feels every step the ex-communist city it is, but Lorenzo is also lashing out at the country for having taken his mother from him, and behind his disgust at the vulgarity of the cities' inhabitants and the city itself is the unspoken accusation he wields at his mother — "you abandoned me for this? For them?"
Andrea Bajani is a wonderful writer, and he conjures up some lovely images here. Lula's chauffeur, Christian, is described by Lorenzo as having eyes "like candies in paper wrappers, wrinkles radiating from the edges" and he speaks of the souvenirs his mother would bring back to him from her business trips abroad, before she stopped visiting entirely, as coming from "every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence."
This is a very quick read, the words go down as sweetly as honey, but it also feels incomplete. This is, of course, one half of the story, and questions remain over the turn Lula's life took toward the end. As memorable as the descriptions here are, as lovely as the translation is, the whole thing feels impermanent.
The impression I got, even as I read, was that the whole thing was somewhat fleeting. Much like Lorenzo's mother, it's lovely when it's here but, when it's over, just how will it be remembered? Will these sweet words hold up over time?
May 4, 2021
An unexpectedly moving tale, told without a trace of sentimentality. I read it straight through, half-expecting “something” to happen… but it already had. Lorenzo, the narrator deserted by his mother years before, flies to Bucharest for her funeral. (I’ve never read a more bleak account.) We endure the aftermath of her absence with him as it unfolds over the few days of his visit, among a few characters, in a city that seems to crush all joy.
Again I’m astonished by the plain style. Anglo-American writers cannot help but embellish with fine writing, carefully observed details designed to trigger admiration. Bajani simply tells his story, directly (it seems) without aiming for effect – but this is its art. The book is rich with details, but they’re the sort of things you notice when your mind is distracted and your spirit almost broken. The grief is all the more intense for being barely observed.
The translation by Elizabeth Harris seems transparent.
Again I’m astonished by the plain style. Anglo-American writers cannot help but embellish with fine writing, carefully observed details designed to trigger admiration. Bajani simply tells his story, directly (it seems) without aiming for effect – but this is its art. The book is rich with details, but they’re the sort of things you notice when your mind is distracted and your spirit almost broken. The grief is all the more intense for being barely observed.
The translation by Elizabeth Harris seems transparent.
November 12, 2023
„Potem Christian powiedział Mówią, że zmarli idą do nieba i rzucił zakłopotane spojrzenie na sufit, nie dodając nic więcej, nie kończąc zdania. Patrzył w sufit, a przez niego patrzył na twoje mieszkanie, jakby chciał powiedzieć, że udało ci się umrzeć tylko połowicznie, że w tej drodze w górę zatrzymałaś się na siódmym piętrze”.
.
Relacje dziecko-rodzic to jeden bez bardziej lubianych przeze mnie motywów w książkach. Najczęściej sięgam po te pomiędzy matką a córką, ale to te matka-syn są dla mnie zawsze czymś nowym i świeżym bo przecież mi osobiście nie znanym.
Włoch Lorenz, narrator w książce Bajani’ego po wiadomości o śmierci matki wyrusza do Rumunii, gdzie kobieta zamieszkała po opuszczeniu rodziny. Podróż ta jest przyczynkiem uruchomienia retrospekcji i wspomnień oraz poznawania matki na nowo dzięki rozmowom z jej tamtejszymi znajomymi. Oprócz tego to też podróż poznawcza dotyczącą samego kraju widzianego oczami przybysza z zewnątrz.
Autor jak na podjęty temat przyjął dość surowy i beznamiętny sposób opowiadania, ale mimo to potrafił wprowadzić atmosferę, która wzbudziła we mnie emocje. Może przez ten klimat intymności, niedopowiedzeń, może przez to, że mimo prostoty stylu, niektóre najbardziej nieskomplikowane na świecie zdania potrafiły wiercić się we mnie niezwykle głęboko. I chyba tak jest, że dobrze skrojonych historii nie ma potrzeby dodatkowo przyozdabiac i uwznioślać. Bronią się same. Czytajcie Drzazgi!
.
„Jest taka godzina o poranku, kiedy gasną miejskie latarnie. Gasną w tej samej chwili, jakby to był jeden pokój, jakby ktoś wstał, podszedł do przełącnika, pstryknął, a potem wrócił na swoje miejsce. Nigdy nie wiadomo dokładnie, kiedy to się stanie, mówiłaś. Trzeba stać przy oknie i obserwować, nie rozpraszać się, nie myśleć, bo myśli są jak ręce kogoś, kto zachodzi cię od tyłu, zasłania ci oczy i nie pozwala patrzeć”.
.
Relacje dziecko-rodzic to jeden bez bardziej lubianych przeze mnie motywów w książkach. Najczęściej sięgam po te pomiędzy matką a córką, ale to te matka-syn są dla mnie zawsze czymś nowym i świeżym bo przecież mi osobiście nie znanym.
Włoch Lorenz, narrator w książce Bajani’ego po wiadomości o śmierci matki wyrusza do Rumunii, gdzie kobieta zamieszkała po opuszczeniu rodziny. Podróż ta jest przyczynkiem uruchomienia retrospekcji i wspomnień oraz poznawania matki na nowo dzięki rozmowom z jej tamtejszymi znajomymi. Oprócz tego to też podróż poznawcza dotyczącą samego kraju widzianego oczami przybysza z zewnątrz.
Autor jak na podjęty temat przyjął dość surowy i beznamiętny sposób opowiadania, ale mimo to potrafił wprowadzić atmosferę, która wzbudziła we mnie emocje. Może przez ten klimat intymności, niedopowiedzeń, może przez to, że mimo prostoty stylu, niektóre najbardziej nieskomplikowane na świecie zdania potrafiły wiercić się we mnie niezwykle głęboko. I chyba tak jest, że dobrze skrojonych historii nie ma potrzeby dodatkowo przyozdabiac i uwznioślać. Bronią się same. Czytajcie Drzazgi!
.
„Jest taka godzina o poranku, kiedy gasną miejskie latarnie. Gasną w tej samej chwili, jakby to był jeden pokój, jakby ktoś wstał, podszedł do przełącnika, pstryknął, a potem wrócił na swoje miejsce. Nigdy nie wiadomo dokładnie, kiedy to się stanie, mówiłaś. Trzeba stać przy oknie i obserwować, nie rozpraszać się, nie myśleć, bo myśli są jak ręce kogoś, kto zachodzi cię od tyłu, zasłania ci oczy i nie pozwala patrzeć”.
September 11, 2023
‘Sen suçların hesabını tutsan Tanrım, kim ayakta kalabilir?’
.
Annesinden ayrı bir oğul. Fazlasıyla dargın, küskün, belki biraz da öfkeli.. Ama yine de onun yanına gidiyor, Romanya’ya. Her ne kadar annesini görmek istemeyeceği bir şekilde görecek olsa da..
.
Sen Suçların Hesabını Tutsan öyle sessiz bir kriz ki.. Kısık ateşte kaynayan bir yemek gibi. Başta acaba ısınıyor mu dediğiniz yemeğin dilinizi yakacak duruma gelmesi gibi. Süreklilik ve zamanla. Bir öfke ve hayalkırıklığı da böyledir işte. Aynı şeye uzun süre maruz kaldıkça derinleşiyor izi..
Severek okudum bu kitabı, Andrea Bajani’nin zamandaki atlamalarını ustaca buldum, hikayenin duygusallığını da..
.
Ebru Sarıkaya çevirisi, Sancar Dalman kapak tasarımıyla ~
.
Annesinden ayrı bir oğul. Fazlasıyla dargın, küskün, belki biraz da öfkeli.. Ama yine de onun yanına gidiyor, Romanya’ya. Her ne kadar annesini görmek istemeyeceği bir şekilde görecek olsa da..
.
Sen Suçların Hesabını Tutsan öyle sessiz bir kriz ki.. Kısık ateşte kaynayan bir yemek gibi. Başta acaba ısınıyor mu dediğiniz yemeğin dilinizi yakacak duruma gelmesi gibi. Süreklilik ve zamanla. Bir öfke ve hayalkırıklığı da böyledir işte. Aynı şeye uzun süre maruz kaldıkça derinleşiyor izi..
Severek okudum bu kitabı, Andrea Bajani’nin zamandaki atlamalarını ustaca buldum, hikayenin duygusallığını da..
.
Ebru Sarıkaya çevirisi, Sancar Dalman kapak tasarımıyla ~
March 13, 2021
Me da vueltas en la cabeza las frases, como dice mas con lo que no dice que con lo que dice, como sin hablar de emociones me hace sentirlas profundamente. El mundo y la relación con la madre van de la mano: perseguir la chuleta (en el caso de Lula), no querer dejar de ser “especiales” (en el caso de la mamá de Lula) hace que nos olvidemos de lo esencial, de lo que nos da sentido. Vivir estando aislados nos destruye.
Buscar a otros solo para favorecernos nos desgasta. Los demás no son cosas, no están para ser explotados.
Mapa de ausencia: en un mundo que ve al otro como objeto, todos estamos ausentes de humanidad.
https://bibliobulimica.wordpress.com/...
Buscar a otros solo para favorecernos nos desgasta. Los demás no son cosas, no están para ser explotados.
Mapa de ausencia: en un mundo que ve al otro como objeto, todos estamos ausentes de humanidad.
https://bibliobulimica.wordpress.com/...
September 12, 2021
This is a story of such quiet & deep yearning, by a son for his mother, that my soul aches. Originally published in Italian in 2007, it was just released in English translation in 2021 -- it is so beautiful in English that I cannot begin to imagine its majesty in the original Italian. Because I cannot read Italian, I need more translations of Mr. Bajani's works please.
The novel opens as Lorenzo, a young Italian man, arrives in Bucharest, Romania shortly after receiving a telegram notifying him that his mother Lula has died there. The story spans the few days Lorenzo spends in Romania, seeing his mother's business, attending her funeral, sleeping in her small apartment, talking with the two men who seem to have been her true friends -- Christian, her Romanian driver; and Viarengo, another ex-pat Italian businessman transplant to Romania. The ending comes as Lorenzo prepares to return to Italy, when he visits the site depicted in the last photograph he has of his mother. The story that unfolds slowly is that of Lorenzo's growing up years, his steadfast dad Emilio, the maternal grandparents and uncles he never knew, his mother's business partner Anselmi, and his bit by bit loss of his ever more disappearing mother.
The setting of the book is in the years following the fall of the dictator Ceausescu. I'm embarrassed to admit how little I knew of Romania, of Ceausescu, and of the 1989 revolution. Mid-book I had to pause and go on a hunt to learn, and I know more now. This taught me once again that history continually repeats itself and every place is so like every other.
I highly recommend this book to all readers; know going in, though, that it is very sad.
The novel opens as Lorenzo, a young Italian man, arrives in Bucharest, Romania shortly after receiving a telegram notifying him that his mother Lula has died there. The story spans the few days Lorenzo spends in Romania, seeing his mother's business, attending her funeral, sleeping in her small apartment, talking with the two men who seem to have been her true friends -- Christian, her Romanian driver; and Viarengo, another ex-pat Italian businessman transplant to Romania. The ending comes as Lorenzo prepares to return to Italy, when he visits the site depicted in the last photograph he has of his mother. The story that unfolds slowly is that of Lorenzo's growing up years, his steadfast dad Emilio, the maternal grandparents and uncles he never knew, his mother's business partner Anselmi, and his bit by bit loss of his ever more disappearing mother.
The setting of the book is in the years following the fall of the dictator Ceausescu. I'm embarrassed to admit how little I knew of Romania, of Ceausescu, and of the 1989 revolution. Mid-book I had to pause and go on a hunt to learn, and I know more now. This taught me once again that history continually repeats itself and every place is so like every other.
I highly recommend this book to all readers; know going in, though, that it is very sad.
October 4, 2022
"If I have to play dead, I told myself, I'm going to do it right. So I lay still, rigid, so rigid, my legs and arms began to ache, and I gritted my teeth as hard as I could. Then I felt a jolt, and I knew they were picking me up. And when they'd raised me in the air, I started laughing and couldn't stop. Maybe it's the same for the dead, I thought, who knows—maybe they wind up laughing, too."
Edmund White writes: "this heartbreaking book of loss and sullen, lonely maturity proceeds through its own devices, especially the careful, stripped bare presentation of key visual images, which the reader must reconstruct into a straightforward story." It took me some time to get into this keen novel but once I was swept within its magic, I could not let go. In a brilliant translation by Elizabeth Harris from the Italian, If You Kept a Record of Sins is a quiet, introspective novel that takes place over a few days in Bucharest with some flashbacks in Italy.
The mother is an absent presence. Her spectre dominates in a manner that is hard to ignore. The first-person "I" of Lorenzo usually addresses the second-person "you" of Lula, his mother in a move that makes readers stand-ins for her, turning them uncomfortable voyeurs to what feels like a letter written to the other side of the grave. It is astonishing to see the emotional depth Bajani adds to the narrative, building on a series of haunting images decked in piercing prose. Here is a reckoning of sins, a tableau of deeds neither forgiven nor forgotten.
(I received a finished copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)
September 11, 2016
In questo breve romanzo ci sono due protagonisti: Lorenzo, il narratore, e la Romania. La scrittura in prima persona si rivolge a un 'tu' ben preciso: la madre, appena morta. La storia si svolge su due piani temporali che si alternano secondo esigenze narrative (e di suspense): da una parte si raccontano i giorni del funerale, dall'altra il rapporto madre - figlio dal concepimento agli ultimi giorni.
La scrittura è asciutta, una confessione di un ragazzo ormai rassegnato di fronte alla sua solitudine. Vibra il ricordo di un sentimento di tenerezza poi mutato in delusione. Una lettura che ci punge con la propria emotività per portarci, però, verso una riflessione che ha il gusto del rimpianto o della malinconia.
Lorenzo è un figlio capitato per caso, accettato quasi per gioco: la sua vita è un accidente all'interno della carriera della madre. Donna che ha dovuto pagare con la solitudine la propria libertà, allontanandosi da una famiglia inquadrata e profondamente borghese. Fin qui, un copione già visto. La bravura di Bajani sta nell'avere analizzato e costruito la propria trama intorno al concetto di assenza. La vita di Lorenzo è una continua attesa: desidera la madre, ma questa sfugge. I momenti di gioco e tenerezza sono pochi, sempre incentrati intorno alla figura della madre. Ella coinvolgeva nei suoi piaceri il figlio, che non poteva fare altro che assistere contento solo del fatto di poter stare con la propria madre. Una donna egoista per spirito di sopravvivenza, perché era l'unico modo per sfuggire alle grinfie degli affetti. Ma se sfuggire alla propria famiglia può essere un atto condivisibile, sfuggire al proprio figlio, alla famiglia che si ha creato è atto deprecabile: Lorenzo non ha deciso di venire al mondo, non ha deciso di aver bisogno di una madre per crescere ed essere felice. La madre, per troppa libertà, è finita per essere vittima: come ella abbandonò gli altri per vivere una vita più piacevole, così ella stessa è stata abbandonata dal suo socio/amante una volta sostituibile con una giovane più avvenente. Da lì la caduta verso la morte.
La Romania è lo sfondo onnipresente di questa storia: la madre era un industriale che avevo deciso di trasferire la propria attività produttiva nella meno costosa nazione dell'Est. Come Lorenzo, anche la Romania ha vissuto l'assenza di una figura guida: Ceausescu è stato un leader troppo pieno di sé, che ha lasciato un tronfio monumento al suo desiderio di grandezza: il suo palazzo, uno dei più grandi edifici al mondo. Un lusso sfarzoso autocelebrativo, incentrato sulla figura del leader a scapito del popolo sofferente. Ora, la Romania senza guida si affida a cafonissimi stranieri che cercando di portare una certa stabilità attraverso attività produttive erette non per bontà, ma per sfruttare i bassi costi della manovalanza. Quindi, un rapporto ipocrita lega i romeni agli stranieri (soprattutto italiani): dietro all'arrivo del progresso si celano gli interessi commerciali dei pochi. Nonostante questa ipocrisia, il popolo romeno abbraccia il suo fato perché migliore di quello passato: per questo, un rozzo prepotente come il socio della madre può mostrarsi come un salvatore, poiché ha portato posti di lavoro in un luogo dove prima non c'era nulla. Ma, dietro di sé, porta una bruttura morale che ammorba le figure che gli stanno intorno: Monica e Christian, due romeni che vivono il loro ruolo di sudditanza nei confronti del ricco uomo italiano solo perché, senza di lui, vivrebbero peggio.
Il rapporto personale tra Lorenzo e la Madre diventa metafora tra il rapporto di un popolo e la propria patria, quando questa abbandona il bene comune in favore della megalomania del singolo.
Un libro fortemente consigliato.
La scrittura è asciutta, una confessione di un ragazzo ormai rassegnato di fronte alla sua solitudine. Vibra il ricordo di un sentimento di tenerezza poi mutato in delusione. Una lettura che ci punge con la propria emotività per portarci, però, verso una riflessione che ha il gusto del rimpianto o della malinconia.
Lorenzo è un figlio capitato per caso, accettato quasi per gioco: la sua vita è un accidente all'interno della carriera della madre. Donna che ha dovuto pagare con la solitudine la propria libertà, allontanandosi da una famiglia inquadrata e profondamente borghese. Fin qui, un copione già visto. La bravura di Bajani sta nell'avere analizzato e costruito la propria trama intorno al concetto di assenza. La vita di Lorenzo è una continua attesa: desidera la madre, ma questa sfugge. I momenti di gioco e tenerezza sono pochi, sempre incentrati intorno alla figura della madre. Ella coinvolgeva nei suoi piaceri il figlio, che non poteva fare altro che assistere contento solo del fatto di poter stare con la propria madre. Una donna egoista per spirito di sopravvivenza, perché era l'unico modo per sfuggire alle grinfie degli affetti. Ma se sfuggire alla propria famiglia può essere un atto condivisibile, sfuggire al proprio figlio, alla famiglia che si ha creato è atto deprecabile: Lorenzo non ha deciso di venire al mondo, non ha deciso di aver bisogno di una madre per crescere ed essere felice. La madre, per troppa libertà, è finita per essere vittima: come ella abbandonò gli altri per vivere una vita più piacevole, così ella stessa è stata abbandonata dal suo socio/amante una volta sostituibile con una giovane più avvenente. Da lì la caduta verso la morte.
La Romania è lo sfondo onnipresente di questa storia: la madre era un industriale che avevo deciso di trasferire la propria attività produttiva nella meno costosa nazione dell'Est. Come Lorenzo, anche la Romania ha vissuto l'assenza di una figura guida: Ceausescu è stato un leader troppo pieno di sé, che ha lasciato un tronfio monumento al suo desiderio di grandezza: il suo palazzo, uno dei più grandi edifici al mondo. Un lusso sfarzoso autocelebrativo, incentrato sulla figura del leader a scapito del popolo sofferente. Ora, la Romania senza guida si affida a cafonissimi stranieri che cercando di portare una certa stabilità attraverso attività produttive erette non per bontà, ma per sfruttare i bassi costi della manovalanza. Quindi, un rapporto ipocrita lega i romeni agli stranieri (soprattutto italiani): dietro all'arrivo del progresso si celano gli interessi commerciali dei pochi. Nonostante questa ipocrisia, il popolo romeno abbraccia il suo fato perché migliore di quello passato: per questo, un rozzo prepotente come il socio della madre può mostrarsi come un salvatore, poiché ha portato posti di lavoro in un luogo dove prima non c'era nulla. Ma, dietro di sé, porta una bruttura morale che ammorba le figure che gli stanno intorno: Monica e Christian, due romeni che vivono il loro ruolo di sudditanza nei confronti del ricco uomo italiano solo perché, senza di lui, vivrebbero peggio.
Il rapporto personale tra Lorenzo e la Madre diventa metafora tra il rapporto di un popolo e la propria patria, quando questa abbandona il bene comune in favore della megalomania del singolo.
Un libro fortemente consigliato.
November 15, 2010
Facciamo una colletta, regaliamo a Bajani un sacchetto con i due punti e le virgolette, si ostina a non volerli usare inserendo il discorso diretto nell'indiretto senza segni di punteggiatura. So che fa molto Joyce e dà una certa aria di scrittore stiloso, però insomma se li hanno inventati un motivo c'è, no?!
Comunque, a parte questo, è un libro che lascia parecchio amaro in bocca. Intanto perchè la vicenda è di per sé amara: insomma tutta la storia è molto poco edificante, triste, melodrammatica (se si facesse un film, questo sarebbe sicuramente premiato a Venezia per poi non essere visto da nessuno). E poi perchè dà sempre l'impressione che debba succedere qualcosa, che ci sia una sorpresa, un legame tra i personaggi che non si è colto, crea molte aspettative e... e invece alla fine non succede niente.
Peraltro alla fine l'autore parla di ricerche fatte per ambientare il romanzo in Romania, quando alla fine questa viene solo rappresentata come casermoni in mezzo al niente e italiani a cui piace la figa che vanno lì per trovarla. Beh insomma c'era bisogno di fare delle ricerche per giungere a questa conclusione?
Comunque, a parte questo, è un libro che lascia parecchio amaro in bocca. Intanto perchè la vicenda è di per sé amara: insomma tutta la storia è molto poco edificante, triste, melodrammatica (se si facesse un film, questo sarebbe sicuramente premiato a Venezia per poi non essere visto da nessuno). E poi perchè dà sempre l'impressione che debba succedere qualcosa, che ci sia una sorpresa, un legame tra i personaggi che non si è colto, crea molte aspettative e... e invece alla fine non succede niente.
Peraltro alla fine l'autore parla di ricerche fatte per ambientare il romanzo in Romania, quando alla fine questa viene solo rappresentata come casermoni in mezzo al niente e italiani a cui piace la figa che vanno lì per trovarla. Beh insomma c'era bisogno di fare delle ricerche per giungere a questa conclusione?
June 20, 2024
This is going to sound bad, but I simply couldn’t wait to finish this novel and move on. If you know, you know. My sentiment has nothing to do with the themes it presents, but rather how superficially they are explored. I wouldn’t say I hated this book with a passion, but I just know I’ll be forgetting about it soon.
December 10, 2013
"Dei souvenir ce n'erano in ogni paese di ogni angolo del pianeta, la mia stanza che viaggio dopo viaggio diventava il mappamondo della tua assenza quotidiana".
I souvenir e le telefonate, che ogni giorno diventano più rade, sono l'unico contatto e legame che Lorenzo, un bambino cresciuto troppo in fretta, ha dalla madre. Una madre che lo ha abbandonato per un nuovo lavoro e un uomo in Romania.
Lorenzo dovrà intraprendere un viaggio che lo porterà in Romania alla ricerca dei sapori, dei luoghi, di un vissuto di una madre che on ha vissuto quanto avrebbe voluto.
una storia che lascia solchi profondi, che lascia il cuore a brandelli e il senso di un vuoto a un bambino, ormai adulto, che ha imparato sin dalla più tenera età cosa sia il dolore e come sia possibile superarlo.
I souvenir e le telefonate, che ogni giorno diventano più rade, sono l'unico contatto e legame che Lorenzo, un bambino cresciuto troppo in fretta, ha dalla madre. Una madre che lo ha abbandonato per un nuovo lavoro e un uomo in Romania.
Lorenzo dovrà intraprendere un viaggio che lo porterà in Romania alla ricerca dei sapori, dei luoghi, di un vissuto di una madre che on ha vissuto quanto avrebbe voluto.
una storia che lascia solchi profondi, che lascia il cuore a brandelli e il senso di un vuoto a un bambino, ormai adulto, che ha imparato sin dalla più tenera età cosa sia il dolore e come sia possibile superarlo.
January 11, 2021
Era sempre più difficile trovare degli spazi liberi in cui mettere i souvenir che mi avevi portato senza coprirne qualcun altro. Ce n’erano di ogni paese, di ogni angolo del pianeta, la mia stanza che viaggio dopo viaggio diventava il mappamondo della tua assenza quotidiana.
Italia e Romania, madre e figlio, ricordi, passato, futuro e opportunità, ma anche assenze, attese, silenzi, e parole non dette. Bajani non scrive ogni minimo dettaglio, e fa bene. I dettagli sono sospesi nell’aria, tra i ricordi del protagonista Lorenzo e l’immaginazione del lettore.
Una lettura toccante e un grande lavoro di immedesimazione del protagonista da parte di Bajani.
Italia e Romania, madre e figlio, ricordi, passato, futuro e opportunità, ma anche assenze, attese, silenzi, e parole non dette. Bajani non scrive ogni minimo dettaglio, e fa bene. I dettagli sono sospesi nell’aria, tra i ricordi del protagonista Lorenzo e l’immaginazione del lettore.
Una lettura toccante e un grande lavoro di immedesimazione del protagonista da parte di Bajani.
July 19, 2021
This novel about a young man's relationship with a mother who grew increasingly distanced from him when he was still a boy, eventually leaving him and her native Italy forever, is one that builds on sharply delineated scenes, rendered in spare, taut prose. The emotional tension is carried throughout the son's account of his trip to Romania for her funeral, and the memories that accompany him there.
A longer review can be found here: https://roughghosts.com/2021/07/19/a-...
A longer review can be found here: https://roughghosts.com/2021/07/19/a-...
August 30, 2020
La historia entre un hijo y su madre que se ven separados por distintas cuestiones de la vida que son difíciles de comprender cuando eres un infante pero que después ves en retrospectiva y lo entiendes todo.
Un duro y realista relato de la importancia de una madre en la vida del hijo y como impacta en su desarrollo. Viéndose separados geográficamente por fronteras y metafóricamente por un río.
Un duro y realista relato de la importancia de una madre en la vida del hijo y como impacta en su desarrollo. Viéndose separados geográficamente por fronteras y metafóricamente por un río.
May 21, 2021
Amazing writing/translation. The story of a boy whose mother leaves the family in Italy to become an entrepreneur in Romania. Gradually she falls out of touch, then when she dies the boy, now a young man, goes to Romania and struggles to piece together what happened to her. As you can imagine, the emotional quotient is high.
June 23, 2025
Read this book because the author was my Creative Writing professor a couple years ago. I loved the simple prose, though I did think similes were slightly overused. The author has a wonderful ability to make the mundane sound so beautiful through his prose. The second person really elevated the book — the narrator was addressing his mother as “you,” so the entire novel felt like a somewhat informal conversation between the narrator and his mother. It almost felt as if the reader were intruding on an intimate conversation.
The reader is able to pick up on small details that the narrator misses; the narrator is in slight denial of his mother’s indifference toward him, but it is through the cold hard facts and anecdotes that the speaker remembers that listeners connect the dots. This was a beautiful story of indifference and abandonment, with a slow moving plot.
My favorite quotes: “You were a thought I never had anymore, that only occurred to me now and then, like something having to do with someone else’s life.” — the narrator gradually forgetting his own mother, emphasizing how unimportant she was in his life, and yet a huge contrast with the second person “you” and how much he worshipped and cared about his mother by remembering all the details of the memories he had of her.
“It grew harder and harder to find any space to put the new souvenirs you'd brought without burying the old. They were from every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence.” — one of my favorite quotes of all time
The reader is able to pick up on small details that the narrator misses; the narrator is in slight denial of his mother’s indifference toward him, but it is through the cold hard facts and anecdotes that the speaker remembers that listeners connect the dots. This was a beautiful story of indifference and abandonment, with a slow moving plot.
My favorite quotes: “You were a thought I never had anymore, that only occurred to me now and then, like something having to do with someone else’s life.” — the narrator gradually forgetting his own mother, emphasizing how unimportant she was in his life, and yet a huge contrast with the second person “you” and how much he worshipped and cared about his mother by remembering all the details of the memories he had of her.
“It grew harder and harder to find any space to put the new souvenirs you'd brought without burying the old. They were from every country, every corner on earth, my room, trip after trip, becoming the world map of your absence.” — one of my favorite quotes of all time
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