A particular game is packaged in ‘I due’ (The Two), in which an author and his translator clash and their miserable and admirable deeds are recounted.

An absurd and heated confrontation that germinates and proliferates in a scatological and foul-mouthed mixture: from the outset, they are opposites, yet at the same time inseparable. Two assholes desperately trying to separate, but ending up being each other's shadow, in dizzying duplications and gravitational collapses.

Dedicated by Moresco (with defenceless tenderness) to his French translator Laurent Lombard, the text, as scurrilous as it is metaphysically unrestrained, depicts the two through their relationship, publishing life, life in general and the afterlife, right up to the presence of an unforgettable creator, an arsehole like them, and like them grandiose in the dirty and childishly free setting that stinks and ferments here.

Antonio Moresco was born in Mantua in 1947. He is an internationally renowned author. He has been translated into numerous languages and has established himself as a truly unique author on the national scene. His vast body of work includes novels, essays and plays, notably his trilogy Giochi dell'eternità (Games of Eternity), consisting of Gli esordi (The Beginnings, Feltrinelli, 1998), Canti del caos (Songs of Chaos, Feltrinelli, 2001; 2003; 2009) and Gli increati (Mondadori, 2015). His latest works include Canto di D'Arco (SEM, 2019), Chisciotte (SEM, 2020) and Canto del buio e della luce (Feltrinelli, 2024).

It all begins with a trip to Latvia. An aeroplane, a wait, a very long sentence that does not stop, made of images and sounds, of places and thoughts, of uprooting and taking possession of the alien, this sentence that sings while it tells, that sees while it closes its eyes, that takes us with it and never leaves us alone, never behind, never distracted, that however relieves us from the present and invites us to the fun of the journey, of the unexpected encounter, in a Latvia that like a sphere reflects the whole universe on its chrome surface.

Sara Fruner, born in Riva del Garda, has lived in New York since 2017, where she teaches Italian at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Her articles on cinema, art and literature have appeared in La Voce di New York, CinematoGraphie, Magazzino 23, Brick. He has collaborated with the Center for Italian Modern Art and Magazzino Italian Art, and has recently translated works by Marie-Helene Bertino, Jane Hirshfield and W.S. Merwin. He is a Professional Member of the Authors Guild and a Bogliasco Fellow. L'istante largo, her debut novel (Bollati Boringhieri, 2020 and 2022), won her second place in the 2021 Severino Cesari Opera Prima National Prize. In poetry she alternates between volumes in Italian and English: Bitter Bites from Sugar Hills (2018), Fireflies in the Palm of the Night (2019), The Red Schooner (2023).

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).

The Pharaoh Amasi, XXVI dynasty, was a man of power whose models were neither the ‘golpe’ nor the ‘lion’, animals whose characteristics a prince should manifest, according to Niccolò Machiavelli's famous metaphor, to govern well. Amasi's model was another animal, according to the happy intuition of Giovanni Mariotti: the eel. Shifty, elusive, shifty, non-linear, cautious, slippery, elusive, the Pharaoh Amasi interpreted the role of the powerful in a decidedly unconventional manner, drawing on his own background as a grave robber. Even in death, Amasi remained as elusive as he had been in life. Instead, Mariotti manages to grasp him with this delightful, exquisite narration. In Amasi's interpretation of power and in the exercise he made of it, Mariotti sees a way, however fragile and imperfect, to keep the civilised life of his subjects within the realm of possible happiness: those who lived in Egypt under Pharaoh Amasi were able to experience la douceur de vivre. A power that was not aggressive, exercised more behind the scenes with intelligence than in the limelight with proclamations, anti-expansionist and attentive to the expansionist drifts of others, quiet in time: a breeze of spring blows from this period, recounted by Mariotti as a cast from Herodotus. And it is, mysteriously, the same fragrant breeze that passes through the perfect sentences of this prose that breathes, oxygenates, produces lightness and well-being in the reader.

Giovanni Mariotti was born in Versilia in 1936 and lives in Milan. He worked for many years at various publishing houses. He has translated works by Itard, Gobineau, Schwob, Denon and Nerval. Furthermore, he has collaborated with several newspapers such as L'Espresso, Corriere della Sera and with the art magazine FMR. His works include with Adeplhi Storia di Matilde (2003) and Piccoli addii (2021), with Franco Maria Ricci La carpa del sogno (2017) and La gatta, Borges e il foxterrier (2020) and with La Nave di Teseo the recent I manoscritti dei morti viventi (2023).