"Nebbia" by Andrea Veronese

Thu, 22 Jul 2010 09:23:40 +0000
Num. 32

Love defeated by political fervour in Ferrara through the 1950 s.

The novel Nebbia [Fog] by Andrea Veronese held me enthralled from its very first pages, encouraging me to have it published as part of the Corbo literature series. The book makes an impact right from the very first scenes, where the focus gradually narrows down onto the events that unfolded in Ferrara between 22 October and 8 December 1954, when

the blinding white of the snow seemed to carry the Istria-born native, Stefan, back to the crystal light of Trieste. It is a novel interwoven with the suspense of a mystery, a good story that can be read at one sitting. It plunges the reader into the difficult, but beloved atmosphere of the Po valley which is brought to life by the texture of the relationships between the characters that lived in Ferrara between October and December 1954, where the human takes precedence over the political. Before he began writing Nebbia about ten years ago, Andrea Veronese had re-read the Ferrara newspapers from those long past days, skimming through the reports of the time. It takes place against the background of a country still traumatised by the war and the subsequent attempt to takeover the government by the power-hungry Togliatti Communists, railing against a middle class still entrenched in its privileges but capable of living with its enemy in decency and style. The description of the list of names of the townspeople at the municipal stadium stand for the Sunday Spal game is particularly effective: it just takes a few lines to evoke post-war Italy with its political classes adjusting to the idea of democracy, the tendency to form political left-wing fronts barely appeased, and the class hatred between communists and fascists about to take shape. The love story between Paola, the daughter of the communist councillor, and Stefan, the exile from Trieste, the crystal air city, who was attracted by the Ferrara fog, is the lyrical highlight of the story. Which emerges from the underground fight between Ghisiglieri, a typical communist in the style of Morselli, and Capurso, the weak, indecisive notary, the symbol of a wounded middle class, but still capable of curbing the maximalist, revolutionary boldness through the power of its laws. The characters of Gaio, Lele, Farina, Ghisiglieri and Pocaterra are well drawn. Andrea Veronese's depiction of them shows how he can mould the mind of a character from their habits, whims, gestures and dialect. The plot never loses its common thread of esteem for an enemy worthy of being hard-fought. A plot that paints the underground struggle as epic, but always fought to the last drop of blood. And it ends with a classic tragic catharsis, where all the ferocious idealism of the political fight is displayed, echoing the Machiavelli concept of Bad servicing Good, with the three figures of Massarenti, Livio and Ghisiglieri illuminated by a sinister greatness. We finish the book on a melancholic note due to the setback suffered by love and passion, which surrenders to the interest of the bigger historic picture in the clash between the classes.