Books about the dead are their only chance to come back.
It is rather joyful to see a friend resurrected.
Violette d'Urso, 23, wrote her first novel to get to know her father.
She was 6 years old when Luigi's heart stopped beating on a staircase in rue Montalivet.
Luck: Me, I had to put up with his nonchalant hat, his white sneakers, his fitted jackets, his snobbish scholarship, his chic accent and his Charvet shirts for two decades.
He never wanted to go to bed;
maybe that's why he always looked tired.
What we took for sprezzatura
(
casualness, in Italian) was a dignified melancholy, the pride of the stoned, the ghost of his drugged mother, who died when he was 9 years old.
Violette investigated to understand why her father imposed the same childhood on her.
The scene where she learns that her father will not pick her up on the station platform is a splendor.
Urso's style is the ellipse...
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