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Una forma di vita di Amélie Nothomb

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I follow the authors that I like and I get in their way, as they are published, their work. So yesterday afternoon I came home with "a form of life," the latest novel by Amelie Nothomb. For those not familiar, is a Belgian writer. He spent several years of his life in Japan and elsewhere in the world (his father is been a diplomat ) And since childhood has become familiar with writing activities through correspondence, at first induced ( mother made her write a letter to her grandfather away a week) then, gradually, sought, desired.

Rare are the individuals whose company is enjoyable for me than it would be their letter - assuming, of course, who possess a minimum of epistolary talent. For most people such a statement constitutes an admission of weakness, a lack of energy, inability to face reality. "She does not like people in the flesh" I have often said. Arise. Why should individuals be more true when you have them in front? (...)

However, even when I love someone to the point of living with him, I need you to write to me: a link does not seem complete unless it involves a matching share. There are people I know only by letter. Sure, I'd be curious to see them, but it is not indispensable. And meet them would not be without consequences ... In this, the correspondence is linked to an 'important literary question: you know the writers?

There is no answer because there are too many. (...)

with the corresponding reigns' identical lawlessness. By nature I tend not to meet them, not to care but for the reason expressed in a sublime way in a Proustian preface: reading allows you to discover the other retaining the depth that you only when you are alone.

I spent a pleasant evening in his company ...

La sequenza in corsivo è tratta da Una forma di vita di Amelie Nothomb ed. Voland

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