Who were Walter Benjamin and Luigi Pirandello looking for in Sanremo in the 1930s? One took refuge at the Villa Verde guesthouse run by his ex-wife Dora, while the other pursued a dream of love named Marta Abba, owner of a pied-à-terre in the old town. But could Benjamin and Pirandello have met? And what would they have said to each other?

Walter Benjamin, German philosopher, literary critic and sociologist from a Jewish family (Berlin, 1892 – Port Bou, Spain, 1940). His philosophical reflection, marked by a strong anti-systematicity and oriented towards theological themes drawn from the Kabbalistic tradition, was initially focused on language, partly due to his work as a translator. He continued his literary essay writing, but then devoted himself more to aesthetic and sociological issues in art; his most significant contribution in this field is the famous essay Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner technischen Reproduzierbarkeit (The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction) from 1936.

Luigi Pirandello, playwright and novelist (Agrigento, 1867 – Rome, 1936). A highly regarded writer, he revolutionised 20th-century theatre, becoming one of the greatest playwrights of all time. Although inspired by Sicilian Verismo, his work reveals an anguished, relativistic view of life and the world, anticipating definitively modern themes. However, it was theatre that spread his fame far and wide: from his early bourgeois comedies, in his so-called second manner, the drama of being and appearing rose to become a symbol and allegory of existence.

Colonial ambitions generated imperial attitudes, theories and practices that remain embedded in botany and all the life sciences. Banu Subramaniam draws on fields as disparate as queer studies, indigenous studies and the biological sciences to explore the labyrinthine history of how colonialism transformed rich and complex plant worlds into biological knowledge. Botany of Empire demonstrates how fundamental theories and practices of botany were shaped and reinforced in favour of colonial rule and its extractive ambitions. We see how the colonisers erased the deep history of plants to create a reductionist system that imposed a Latin-based naming system, drew on the imagined sex lives of European elites to explain plant sexuality, and discussed foreign plants as foreign human beings. Subramanian thus focuses on imagining a more inclusive and capacious field of botany, untethered and decentralised from its origins in histories of racism, slavery and colonialism. This vision harnesses the power of scientific and feminist thought to chart a course towards more socially just experimental biology practices.

Banu Subramaniam is Professor of Women's, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Wellesley College. Trained as a plant evolutionary biologist, she writes about social and cultural aspects of science in relation to experimental biology. She is the author of Ghost Stories for Darwin. The Science of Variation and the Politics of Diversity (University of Illinois Press, 2014), Holy Science. The Biopolitics of Hindu Nationalism (University of Washington Press, 2019), Botany of Empire. Plant Worlds and the Scientific Legacies of Colonialism (University of Washington Press, 2024), his current work focuses on the decolonisation of botany, nativism in plant biology and the relationship between science and religious nationalism in India.

One of the most singular figures in Italian post-World War II art, ‘an artist who moves in a vacuum’ as Germano Celant defined him, Prini seems to elude, perhaps intentionally, any possible definition. Starting with over forty works from 1966 to 2016, the core of the first retrospective since his death, held at the Fondazione Merz from 28 October 2019 to 9 February 2020, this volume activates a critical and historical reflection on the experience of one of the most interesting and discussed representatives of Arte Povera. A transgressive position, that of Prini, or if we want orthodox towards artistic practice and the codes of the art system that teaches the possibility of grasping the value of contradiction and doubt. A passage of art and the artist into life, or rather as he himself defined ‘not action but biological extension of the self’, into contemporaneity that distinguishes a work of extreme topicality and ready for confrontation with the new generations.

The book, edited by Beatrice Merz, includes an unpublished text by Luca Lo Pinto, a historical and never published dialogue between the artist and Hans Ulrich Obrist, and a rich anthology with texts by Adachiara Zevi, Germano Celant and Lorenzo Benedetti. The book benefits from a rich iconographic apparatus, with over 150 images of works and documents.

Emilio Prini (Stresa, 1943 - Rome, 2016) was a leading figure in Arte Povera, one of the most influential and radical recent art movements, strongly connected to the political and social context of the second half of the 20th century.

Approximately where the 44th parallel North intersects the 8th meridian East, there is a place of memory that Marco Drago brings to life on the page with masterly skill. Drago summons his human beings into a kind of living nativity scene that has a Brewery instead of the Child. As much as this author's writing has an immediate grasp on the reader, skimming in its snappy journeys, concrete to the point of being decoded first by bodies and only later by minds, the outcome of each of his texts contains a compressed and compact worldview and a vision of life that is painful but amused, desolate but sumptuous, sarcastic but passionate - desperate and mystical.

Drago (like all those with a pure talent for writing) is inimitable in many ways. In particular, he has a mysterious ability that allows him to totally overturn the relationship between what we mean by ‘person’ and what we mean by ‘character’, i.e. between his pages live and meet people who everything suggests were in real life (beautiful) characters. Each one with a tic, or a fantasy, or an unmentionable disappointment, or a weakness, or a stigma, or an identity adherence to transient social roles, or an invincible drive, an artistic talent to dissipate, a falling in love.

In his nativity scene, people of beautiful interiority coexist with the more drifting outcasts. All in the bowl of life and time shredder. All loved and mocked in a single gesture by the author. We readers also converge around the brewery, because we feel that there is a buried pulsation there and perceive that only a writer like Marco Drago can make it so immediate.

Dry, poignant, definitive is the finale of this small and universal Bohème.

Marco Drago is a writer, translator and radio presenter. He has published: L'amico del pazzo e altri racconti (Feltrinelli, 1998), Cronache da chissà dove (Minimum Fax, 2000), Domenica sera (Feltrinelli, 2001), Zolle (Feltrinelli, 2005), La vita moderna è rumenta (Feltrinelli, 2012), La prigione grande quanto un paese (Barbera Editore, 2013), Baladin, la birra artigianale è tutta colpa di Teo, with Teo Musso (Feltrinelli, 2013), Sesso calcio e rock and roll (Feltrinelli, 2014) and Innamorato (Bollati Boringhieri, 2023). He has translated many books from English for major Italian publishers. Between 2000 and 2025 he wrote and hosted radio programmes with Gaetano Cappa for RadioRai, Radio24 and RSI. He is part of the artistic factory Istituto Barlumen.

This is the enchanting story of a friendship between an adult and a child that begins with a shared love of comic books (Asterix, Alan Ford, Tex Willer). The adult is the author, the child is Bill Clinton, i.e. his first name is Bill Clinton (surname is another).

The story told here already in itself attracts the reader's sympathy: it is curious, original in its quiet everydayness, simultaneously and inseparably funny and serious. But since (we always tend to forget) no story exists if it is not told, it is especially important to say that it is Ugo Cornia's way of narrating that generates the enchantment. His voice, inimitable, sounds in every sentence, in every juxtaposition, in every concealed burst of intelligence. His writing, in all his texts, is a kind of song that resonates with discretion but infinite precision in our literature. It is made up of such personal timbres, melodies, prosodic trends and rhythms that this author is more identifiable than his fingerprints. It grabs you without you realising it, lulls you, leads you, bamboozles you.

Writing and voice are one and the same in Cornia, the same breath, and always when read at the same time heard. With an absolute degree of subtlety and purity, an indefinable humour little by little, unhurriedly, even wistfully, he offers us a further lens through which to observe life and experience, as if it were the precious gift of a gentle hypnotist.

Ugo Cornia was born in Carpi and lives in Modena. A graduate in philosophy from Bologna, he has taught in various high schools and has taught Italian for many years at I.I.S. Venturi in Modena. His debut novel Sulla felicità a oltranza, published in 1999 with Sellerio, placed him among the most interesting contemporary Italian narrators. His works include: Modena è piccolissima, illustrated by Giuliano Della Casa (EDT, 2009); Autobiografia della mia infanzia (Topipittori, 2010); Il professionale. Avventure scolastiche (Feltrinelli, 2012); Sono sociavole fino all'eccesso. Vita di Montaigne (Marcos y Marcos, 2015); La vita in ordine alfabetico (La Nave di Teseo, 2021) and Le storie di mia zia (Quodlibet, 2023).