Io non ho paura. The end of innocence

Niccolò Ammaniti is growing up well. He could have remained forever one of the many "cannibali" in the Einaudi anthology of the same name, or just the author of the grotesque apocalypses in Fango (1996). Instead, he preferred to experiment, and the bildungsroman Ti prendo e ti porto via (1999) is a first and pretty creditable illustration of this.
With Io non ho paura (Einaudi, p.220, L.16.000), the 35 year old Roman writer now moves into territory previously unexplored, for him. The book cover mentions Clive Barker, Mark Twain and the Calvino of Fiabe italiane / Italian Fables (we would have said more the Calvino of The Baron in the Trees), but the obvious comparison is with Stephen King.
To be precise, with the King of The Body, the superb short story - on which the film Stand by me was based - in Different Seasons: Here, just like there, the story tells the adventure of a group of children who, during one long, hot summer, say goodbye to childhood games and innocence in a confrontation with the harsh realities of the adult world.
Set in 1978 in Acqua Traverse, an imaginary village in Southern Italy, the tale begins with a trip into the country taken by several children, including nine-year-old Michele Amitrano. Out on this scorched land, in the middle of a sea of corn, there is hidden a terrible and unspeakable secret; something that will compel the young protagonist to come to terms with himself, find the strength to comprehend and - driven by the course of events - to grow up.
E’ Ammaniti, here at his best, manages to find just the right interplay between the tenderness and light-heartedness of childhood and the harsh revelation of pain and injustice. There is true brilliance in several episodes - for example, the impaling of a hen - where the cruelty of innocence is so accurately described in its every detail, as to leave you pleasantly amazed.
And if the dénouement seems a little predictable, one must acknowledge the thoughtful and perceptive style, which strives for a delicate simplicity and in the end achieves it, without indulging in any kind of sentimental easy way out. All in all, a first class result, stylishly obtained by an author with a very promising future.

Io non ho paura. The end of innocence

Niccolò Ammaniti is growing up well. He could have remained forever one of the many "cannibali" in the Einaudi anthology of the same name, or just the author of the grotesque apocalypses in Fango (1996). Instead, he preferred to experiment, and the bildungsroman Ti prendo e ti porto via (1999) is a first and pretty creditable illustration of this.
With Io non ho paura (Einaudi, p.220, L.16.000), the 35 year old Roman writer now moves into territory previously unexplored, for him. The book cover mentions Clive Barker, Mark Twain and the Calvino of Fiabe italiane / Italian Fables (we would have said more the Calvino of The Baron in the Trees), but the obvious comparison is with Stephen King.
To be precise, with the King of The Body, the superb short story - on which the film Stand by me was based - in Different Seasons: Here, just like there, the story tells the adventure of a group of children who, during one long, hot summer, say goodbye to childhood games and innocence in a confrontation with the harsh realities of the adult world.
Set in 1978 in Acqua Traverse, an imaginary village in Southern Italy, the tale begins with a trip into the country taken by several children, including nine-year-old Michele Amitrano. Out on this scorched land, in the middle of a sea of corn, there is hidden a terrible and unspeakable secret; something that will compel the young protagonist to come to terms with himself, find the strength to comprehend and - driven by the course of events - to grow up.
E’ Ammaniti, here at his best, manages to find just the right interplay between the tenderness and light-heartedness of childhood and the harsh revelation of pain and injustice. There is true brilliance in several episodes - for example, the impaling of a hen - where the cruelty of innocence is so accurately described in its every detail, as to leave you pleasantly amazed.
And if the dénouement seems a little predictable, one must acknowledge the thoughtful and perceptive style, which strives for a delicate simplicity and in the end achieves it, without indulging in any kind of sentimental easy way out. All in all, a first class result, stylishly obtained by an author with a very promising future.