The book begins with the humble Dust, a song by Last paradox (Einaudi, 1985). It reads, inter alia: "I want to know instead of them because they were , since, apparently, it's like they were not. I wonder if, indeed, each of them could be considered interchangeable with other units of exactly the same, since none of them had a character that save it from oblivion. I wonder if their indifference to history - and the indifference of the story to them - are a consequence or a cause of their humility, of their being the edge of large currents.
Assunta and Alessandro are the parents of Alberto Asor, who here tells the story, separate first - with a brief digression in the lives of their families, a little further back than the birth of the protagonists -; together, then marriage and child. The author's intention is clear and explicit: to tell and listen to those "who see you every day." The reader is also moments in the book of the official Italian history, the one common to all, but mainly about the size of its creeping, peeping into the most intimate stories of individuals and families, to mess up lots, or enrichment, or casually ignored. But most of all the reader of today - and I hope there is some young player among them - can rediscover the profound sense of the dignity of existence, the common good, the decor of living and thinking, reasonable hope in the future that marked the long the clerical class and lower middle classes of our country, and now seems to have lost. And that could lead - albeit briefly - a deeply happy moments: "In that little bunch of years in history there are only them, Assunta, Alexander and the small. Assunta, mend and washed up from room to room in the house, throated sings opera arias [...] Sandro falls every day at home running as a brave young man and smiling, always with a new beam of "magazines" under his arm [...] are calendar years, caressed by a gentle spring breeze, suspended in a limbo of the soul, which is fine, before being, alas, tried and sent. E ', in short, an exemplary case of diffraction era: the world, whether we know it or not, runs, just then, for the worse, but three of them, just then, they are happy. "
Asor had told them The dawn of a new world (2002) his story of a boy in Rome during the years 1933 to 1945, a way to enrich the memory with the substance of things, facts, people: loved and lived with him wonder and innocence of a child who is at the center della narrazione perché è stato appunto al centro della vita di una famiglia e dei suoi luoghi (l'appartamento, il "casermone", il paese della vacanze...). Il libro si concludeva proprio con l'"alba del mondo nuovo" radiosamente presente nel racconto della festa del primo maggio 1945 al Deposito locomotive di Roma Prenestino - il padre dell'autore era ferroviere -, col canto de L'internazionale e poi con il ballo al suono di melodie popolari: un futuro che si apriva con fondali di luce, con capitali di speranza. La storia di Assunta e di Alessandro si chiude, invece, al presente. Il presente di chi, "fermando" nella scrittura un mondo, o meglio un uomo e una donna, afferma una sua piccola, ma fondamentale verità: "ogni giorno li rivediamo".
Un libro da leggere, davvero, questo. E, a chi non l'avesse ancora letto, consigliamo anche il precedente.
Alberto Asor Rosa, L'alba di un mondo nuovo , Einaudi 2002
Alberto Asor Rosa, Assunta e Alessandro , Einaudi 2010.
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