Radju Rokku, a hyperacustic odyssey.
A traġikummiedja in six books.

Five, nearly six years of my crazy life, as narrated to my dog Rokku. Bedtime stories, walks by the sea, chilling on the avlí (front yard), driving around Itháki in the bibliomobile. Or at the desk, while he relaxes on the inside doormat or by my feet.

Rokku is deaf, so the language I speak is irrelevant. I often narrate in silence. He understands the vibrations, the emotional waves, and obviously senses when I’m sad, singing or laughing.

So which or how many languages am I writing in? Just one. It’s all Twanniż. A Mediterranean English backbone, with increasingly diverse vocab and convoluted grammar. As with Camilleri’s vigatèse, the reader will learn Twanniż as they go along. The book will even contain language lessons, including ‘twanuzzjonijiet’ – adaptations of poems and lyrics into my own idiolect. And there will be plenty of musical notes, chords, notation in the right places.

Much of Books α-δ is already written, but I’m starting from scratch. Rokku’s arrival in November 2024, when he adopted me in Marathókampos, Samos, changed everything. He was the missing piece of the jigsaw, but was there from the very start.

Writing this novel will take years. No rush. I might publish extracts on this blog from time to time. I would consider serialising it, maybe trying to publish the chapters as ‘faxxikli’, like Maltese novels a hundred years ago. Yet memory works by association. The writing process will go back and forward according to weather or whim.

Rokku mou, páme vólta, let’s go for a walk in the town. Burrokrazija u kafè. Let’s see what song comes on in the jeep, and what episode it might remind me of.

This is going to be painful. This is going to be great fun.

Rokku mou Homer & Pitagora Joyce & Itháki Palestine, Oujda, Bonnevoie (the Mediterranean quartier of Luxembourg) Driving down France and Italy during the first covid summer. A two-day journey that took a whole month Santa Cesarea, Salento, bang on la Linea di San Michele (SE from Ireland to Jerusalem) Crossing the Ionio, earbreak in Pálairos, finding refuge in Exogí (NW Itháki) Exogí-Luxembourg-Malta … and back to Exogí, via Cartagena Athens-Aegina-Agistri-Ródos-Sámos-Turkey … and after picking up Rokku in Sámos, an aborted journey towards a book launch in Luxembourg. Life with Rokku in Limourata – on Homer’s path under Exogí – begins