A review by casparb
The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

ZOOMEd thru this one which has a lovely seesawiness to it di Lampedusa breezes you along. I warmed up to it the deeper I was (maybe I was less tired then
perhaps it's his aristocratic thing but it's a novel shot thru & scored with time I'm sure it's much commented on. Permanent end-of-the-party atmosphere, I was trying to resist making a comparison to La Dolce Vita since I worry I was just leaping to whatever in my limited Italians (BCH text I read lately had a nice analysis of the last LDV scene also). to explain this, looking at the chapter A BALL set in 1862, where we are informed that the partygoers 'thought themselves eternal; but a bomb manufactured in Pittsburgh, Penn., was to prove the contrary in 1943'. gorgeous! heartbreaking too, as I say, aristocratic. I think also of Marquez.

half-remembered Lydia Davis' The Language of Things in the House:
Soup bowl on counter: Fabrizio!