IRREFUTABLE VERSES DI MARCELLO DIOTALLEVI.IL MIO COMMENTO IN INGLESE

 

“Irrefutable verses” by Marcello Diotallevi

 

The premise to this comment of mine is already included in the precedent POST.
There is an important element to precise though: one thing is to “comment “ the editorial story of the book one other is to judge the content of it.

I am referring to both of them.

THE VOLUME
The  print run which is of many hundreds of thousands of copies would leave breathless even the most famous Italian author in the world; printing location: PAPUA NEW GUINEA.
The circulation of the book takes place in several countries in the world except Italy
where the author lives.
Italian test with facing translation ( by Milli
Depalma). All that leaves me perplexed and curious but here I stop.
Let us come to the written part, heart, soul, the book nerve system.
Marcello writes: “This is not a book of memories but of recollections. Memories may be tricking because they imply feelings, the recollection is clear and does not indulge nostalgy.

Whatever reference to events and persons is not casual at all but belongs to moments of life lived by the author or others, and lasts more than fifty years”.

After he tells of himself:

“Marcello Diotallevi was born. He has been involved in art for over than half a century and is exempt from success anxiety. He was young actor of French speaking photo novels and amateur motor-cyclist during the roman period. Pontifical  restorer  in  the pay of Pope Paolo VI. Expert of etruscan philology, as well as groin poet and historian of chicken (from the Indian forests to the Kentucky fried chicken).He has never tried to reproduce to win over the benevolence of the gods. Now, he is dancing.  Since 1974 he has been dwelling in Fano but he does not live there. He will die in this century. The never ending life does not interest him because he knows that the Gods envy the mortals this peculiarity of theirs. After his death he’ll be remember as a sheer artist dead from fame”.

Therefore, simplifying, a diary which comprehends half century of his life, taking more than three hundred pages.
Though it is not a traditional diary in fact the importance of this book does not depend on that.
Be them poetry, be them tales, be them memory, be them aphorisms, the author’s
pen keeps provoking in a way sometimes
heavy and violent which nothing forgives
even going beyond unimaginable limits.
He tells about Rome then abuses the Pope, remembers a few friends then he provokes everyone and back to Rome he returns

and so on.
Very many pages are focused on sex but not in a normal way: even in this case he pushes himself towards very rough horizons.
Male sex, female sex, mixed sex, paid sex, masturbation.
Without any concern of judgement.
I have liked very many pages written by Marcello and  stricken with great interest.
His provocation is not an end in itself but
a means to open the readers’ eyes, a cold water bucket to save them.
And to conclude I add I have found  tender poems and delicate verses to witness that the artist is also a poet and viceversa.
I one of the last pages Marcello hands the reader his will:

“To the survivors:
let the vultures
strip my flash away

from my body,
so I will be able

to fly at last”.

 I dare say ... “so be it.”