But who he is, what it is, "Amalgrab? Maybe an anagram or a charade in the language of Bela Lugosi or at least the Balkans, which makes encryption Transylvanian sudacchiare blood fat and sticky that even the most skilled players who look at the figures - a book with pictures, like a fable old, mid-season , a red cap who dine together with the wolf and then massaging the gums sore, paintings by Francis Bacon and Dali, the persistent memory, or Lucien Freud, each sign a dream or a nightmare, masturbation pedophile perversions of Balthus - fascinated, players, stunned, fascinated by the language of witchcraft: they wanted or not wanted, especially the more than able, to hear live the real "voice" of a witch, or maybe it's a beautiful woman from ivory fangs greedy for blood or a seductive teenager who knows everything there is more than a mirror or in the middle layers of a quilt warm? A witch, a jana sardesca, a witch, including the language of the city that walks and talks - in a mastery of the vernacular-Vernacoliere surprising in a writer "migrant" - and the extraordinary range of Italian shades, uses a Write intelligent, original and fantastic. Who is, where does Guergana shaved, in whose name the trace, such as trace was Spartacus, there is an omen of alchemy, of mixtures of menstrual fluid and semen, of metamorphosis, of good, evil, and especially of what is in between good and evil? A new writer, "alternative" (and is not an election slogan Old: it really is), as electronic engineering (but you see that dominates the computer language), can do the pizzas el'irish coffee and also read as no domestic workers has never been able to do: read for yourself. And if the reader "alternative" because such a book and a writer who really loves that suits the shade of rouge et noire word gutter gastric juices and / or orange flowers, is the irrepressible desire to know Italian-Bulgarian writer - who lives among mentally Livorno (and its Medici-transgressive spirit folk) and Sofia (by definition, Seat of Wisdom) - face a trip out to the slopes of Mount Amiata anarchist and not dodge even by mistake Scansano, in the countryside and in the history of centuries, where the bark Dogs and cats meowing will be presented to a lady who is anything but a witch, the smile intriguing as his first novel. But of course that has already written and that knows how to work the word as in his erotic poems where, as in many pages of the book debut fiction, illuminates the mind of new thrills and excitement and heart beats like a kid in sublime ecstasy of a woman, "the gift of childhood wonder. " The time "stale" by Amalgrab takes the reader on all sides and nowhere, certainly in the midst of traveling carnival of strange figures, in a city that moves and closes, populated by the most bizarre and perhaps a fantasy saga -horror: it is perhaps not the everyday, stale and unsteady in time, set the corner of divinity, light, life, children, grandchildren, incest, to "in principle erat Verbum," eternal children, all people who are and it is not, it does and who does not, he says and does not say ...? Is not this life, this is perhaps Amalgrab? Despite the almost obvious of these considerations stubborn, "ought" be so, how else?, will never cease to surprise the reader to the last page. You will hear twisted the words "death and love, passion and abandon, of escape and return to" the writer who wanted to be an alternative, and unlike some of the treacherous political slogan, it is. As is his city without a name - and it is useless and detrimental to identify one, a Livorno inhabited by the wind, from the masks, the dust of shops antique dolls and junk ... it is unnecessary and harmful - that has a smell, that smell ?, has the sound of jazz, has a color, a chess board and all things dark-pink-Arachnophobia-cabalistic demonstrating the writer's skill to dominate a seemingly inextricable tangle. Out of the maze is not easy, nor was it must not be shaved for Guergana. Paths that still fit into the common morality, would once have been called "bourgeois", avoid like - we would say in Sardinia - the horn of the gallows, was not even in these times "unsteady and stale" an easy choice. Come out with their virginity intact was even more difficult. But the writer fails because there can not be of interest to a detail like this "right" and so unleashes his imagination in his writing-dark-Transylvanian dream that has all the trappings of intellectual honesty, so little up-to-date in the sad days of conformity, and courage that abundat stultorum in hours but only in the pen of the fairies or witches. O true of females. Enrico Pili
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