I Hadn't Understood (9781609458980) (34 page)

 

A
t last. This is where I can say at last, since we've come to the end.
I'd like to thank Gianfranco Marziano, whose speculations about modernity and the unstoppable neo-oafishness of our miserable times can be found sprinkled throughout this book; Counselor Massimo Ancarola of the bar of Salerno for a pointer in criminal law that would never have occurred to me, and Aldo Vigorito for his gift of an off-the-cuff piece of advice during a reading at which he was accompagnying me on the double bass. Thanks also to Paolo Nori, Hamid Ziarati, and Uncle Flash. And to Dalia, as always.

Now, it hardly seems necessary to point this out, but this is a novel, so the first and last names, the events and circumstances found in this novel have no actual or intended connection with people who happen to share those names and who might happen to have been involved in events and circumstances even remotely resembling those described and recounted.

While we're on the subject, let me take this opportunity to say that there are lots of people you meet every day whose lives would make a good novel. The thing is that you can't just sit down at your desk and write other people's lives. Or at least, that's what I would say, if anyone were ever to ask me.

D. D. S.

 

 

Diego De Silva was born in Naples in 1964. He is the author of plays, screenplays, and six novels.
I Hadn't Understood
was a finalist for the Strega Prize, Italy's most prestigious literary award, and winner of the Naples Prize for fiction. His books have been translated into eight languages. He currently lives in Salerno.