Author: | Manu Bazzano | ISBN: | 9788895145990 |
Publisher: | IPOC Italian Path of Culture | Publication: | October 1, 2011 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Manu Bazzano |
ISBN: | 9788895145990 |
Publisher: | IPOC Italian Path of Culture |
Publication: | October 1, 2011 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
"Truthful and full of passion." Eva Hoffman
"During one sleepless night, the night of All Saints Day, the protagonist of this powerful novella wrestles with a cast of inner demons. The ghosts of the dead are never far away – whether dead relatives or dead philosophers. How far they can help him resolve the existential pain occasioned by lost love we find out,
as we go through the night with him, witnessing his struggle to understand his experience. This is a beautifully written, uncompromising piece of fiction, in the best European tradition." Carole Satyamurti
I look for you through the mazes of the virtual world, through the hyper-active, desolate hysteria of second life. I look for your avatar and mourn the loss of the human face. I am in mourning for the disappearance of the human face in relationships. I weep for the concealment of the body, this inconvenient, late-Romantic artifact, once sovereign of love before the advent of global capitalism.
"Truthful and full of passion." Eva Hoffman
"During one sleepless night, the night of All Saints Day, the protagonist of this powerful novella wrestles with a cast of inner demons. The ghosts of the dead are never far away – whether dead relatives or dead philosophers. How far they can help him resolve the existential pain occasioned by lost love we find out,
as we go through the night with him, witnessing his struggle to understand his experience. This is a beautifully written, uncompromising piece of fiction, in the best European tradition." Carole Satyamurti
I look for you through the mazes of the virtual world, through the hyper-active, desolate hysteria of second life. I look for your avatar and mourn the loss of the human face. I am in mourning for the disappearance of the human face in relationships. I weep for the concealment of the body, this inconvenient, late-Romantic artifact, once sovereign of love before the advent of global capitalism.