Malcolm

by James Purdy, Edward Albee (Introduction)

Long out of print, James Purdy's novel Malcolm , first published in 1959, established Purdy as "one of the greatest writers produced in America during the past hundred years" (Dame Edith Sitwell). Malcolm is the bizarre story of an innocent young man of 'exceptional beauty' who becomes involved in a series of comic and poignant adventures. Taken under the wing of a famous astrologer, an undertaker, a billionaire, a midget painter, a jazz queen, America's foremost chanteuse, and a tattoo artist, among others, Malcolm is led endlessly from protector to protector in search of his missing father, until the journey itself becomes his undoing.

Genres: Fiction, American, LGBT, Queer, Americana, Humor, Novels

190 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1959

About the author

James Otis Purdy was an American novelist, short-story writer, poet, and playwright who, from his debut in 1956, published over a dozen novels, and many collections of poetry, short stories, and plays. His work has been translated into more than 30 languages and in 2013 his short stories were collected in The Complete Short Stories of James Purdy.
He has been praised by writers as diverse as Edward Albee, James M. Cain, Lillian Hellman, Francis King, Marianne Moore, Dorothy Parker, Dame Edith Sitwell, Terry Southern, Gore Vidal (who described Purdy as "an authentic American genius"), Jonathan Franzen (who called him, in Farther Away, "one of the most undervalued and underread writers in America"), A.N. Wilson, and both Jane Bowles and Paul Bowles.
Purdy was the recipient of the Morton Dauwen Zabel Fiction Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters (1993) and was nominated for the 1985 PEN/Faulkner Award for his novel On Glory's Course (1984). In addition, he won two Guggenheim Fellowships (1958 and 1962), and grants from the Ford Foundation (1961), and Rockefeller Foundation.
He worked as an interpreter, and lectured in Europe with the United States Information Agency.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 4 out of 5]

James Purdy took French Candide and transplanted him to the American society in the middle of the twentieth century, on the way turning the famous Bildungsroman into the absurdist comedy.
So Malcolm – our clueless hero – finds himself in the thick of weird bohemians, artists, magnates, mystics, minxes and freaks.

…undertaking is perhaps the most aesthetic of all professions, and indeed the most universal.

And everything he sees around just makes him wonder…

Malcolm wrote down a statement original to him, which was found later among his effects: “Married love is the strangest thing of all.”

And to him, who stands at the beginning of his road of life everything appears new and strange…

“Before you go,” Kermit said in a low voice, his eyes looking away from Mr. Cox, “answer me one simple question: Does Malcolm have any mind at all?”
“I will answer your question with another one: Do you think he needs one?” Mr. Cox said…

“Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.” Matthew 6:26
God provides for birds… for a while.

[Mariel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hey, Lady Day, can you save my life again? My only
love has gone away will you be my only friend? Billie you're a genius
enough to be a fool a fool to gamble everything and never know the rules... - 'My Only Friend' by The Magnetic Fields (my third favorite band if anyone is counting)

Word on the street is that James Purdy's Malcolm is based on Billie Holiday. I don't know because I've had my ear too close to the sidewalk cracks again and break your mama's back. My Billie Holiday knowledge is steeped in years of Billie Holiday gifts on those occasions I tried to remind my mother of something she cared a lot about (oh yeah, and my cockatiel is named Lester Young. He'd make a good backup whistler, if I could whistle). Thinking too much about one is thinking too much about the other and that's something I try not to do. The Magnetic Fields song 'My Only Friend' about Billie Holiday is one of my favorites (picking a favorite song of theirs is as difficult as picking an all-time favorite book). I know that it moves me. It is company in the ache to deny hope against the inevitable. Will you be my only friend? The rumors are probably true.

Word from room to room in the hotel to the bench Malcolm is unseasoned on through March, June, October to bells and buzzers in apartments and bedrooms and unscented in their mood setting candles and potpourri pots. He's a king, the prince and our dear pied pauper. I sat in their kitchens as if the lights never came on, like sneaking a midnight snack. I only wanted a glass of water. Malcolm is their little cypher for all intents and purposes. Purposes be damned! When I loved Malcolm it was when he was trying to find that romantic ideal between all of their different rooms. Kermit the midget not-midget and the prostitute wife who didn't love him. Madam Girard and husband Girard Girard who could not share. Jerome the honey-tongued ex-con cum evangelist self styler of others and his wife, Eloisa. Styled, not self. I don't think he really tried to figure out marriages. (Who could?) Will you be my only friend? If he was killed, the light in the eyes so to speak, or did he really die (who could know?), it was when he stopped moving his eyes from other rooms. He got married and stopped visiting his friends. The hands above his haloed crown trying to polish it up didn't matter to me. I do this cheap trick of avoiding eye contact by flitting back from person to person. More than one person is easier to talk to and not look like a weirdo (I wish I had never seen what someone else looked like avoiding eye contact). Malcolm made me think of being face to face with just one person and what would happen if you couldn't have the guts or sit still long enough to lift your face. I think he just couldn't remember what people looked like when he wasn't with them. He forgot his beloved missing father's face. So what if Purdy had things to say about the fake shit people put on to avoid remembering what each other looked like. I could remember what Malcolm looked like because I know he wanted to have all of those eyes to look into. Losing touch with trying matters more than that there are false parts. He was happy just visiting them. I liked that odd kind of sweetness in Malcolm visiting them, no matter how awful those friends could sometimes be. It was kind of happy, in a strange way. I liked how, after he was gone for all intents and purposes, Madame Girard would read all of the conversations that Malcolm tried to record in his notes. Malcolm was just trying to remember and that's why he sits on those benches. Billie Holliday would have slumped on her bench with more meaning, though. No forgetting. Maybe Purdy saw hands pulling too hard on the branches of her poplar tree? I don't know if I really believe that wholeheartedly. I wanna believe wholeheartedly! Or halfheartedly. The other half is in a locket somewhere for something else. Be my friend and allow me to believe. Damn, I was trying not to think too much about that... I think what I liked the most about Malcolm is that it's not that crying. It's a space between two tears on the sidewalk, maybe.

Come back in twenty years to see mortician Estel Blanc. He's too young. It has not been twenty years.... In twenty years you will have a friend and he'll look like a freaking mortician. Can't say I'm counting the days for that one. Word on the street talks too much.

I really liked this book, anyway. I'm reading Purdy's Eustace Chisholm and the Works now. I think me and Purdy are going to be friends, anyway.

P.s. Norman Mailer was on to something about Gore Vidal and Susan Sontag and their two peas in a podness. Somewhere and somehow the Susan Sontag hyperbolic quotes that don't really mean anything to me but are most vocal have changed into Gore Vidal quotes that do the same. According to Vidal, Purdy is "an authentic American genius". They have great taste, anyway. (Not sure I liked Sontag, anyway.)

[Eddie Watkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just saw that Mr. Purdy has died, after a long productive and contrary life. Long live his novels! A true feisty independent and fantastic writer. He may be gone but it's never to late to discover him.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/14/boo...


* * * *


This has the classic premise of an innocent being introduced to the vast variety of the world. Malcolm is a boy with the mysterious quality of a Kaspar Hauser-type figure. He has been abandoned by his father and left in what I assume is New York City, set up in a hotel, where he spends all his days sitting on a bench. Unlike Kaspar Hauser he knows how to talk, and he's obviously received some education, but his experience beyond his father is virtually nil. He is then taken under the wing of a benefactor who promises to introduce him to society.

What follows is basically a series of encounters that allow Purdy to vent his cynicism regarding conventional behavior and "society". It's a picaresque novel that has the feel of an allegorical journey, but an allegory with no consistent key; and that's what I like so much about Purdy's novels - they seem to employ what could be considered symbols and allegories, but instead of being used in a pre-calculated over-determined way, they're used in a more dream-like fashion so the deep mystery of it all is left intact. He's clearly interested in the deeper reality that lies beneath the surface of people, as the title of a late novel of his makes clear - Garments the Living Wear.

This is probably Purdy's most famous novel, with blurbs by Dorothy Parker and John Cowper Powys, and I've heard it's been consistently assigned in college lit programs, but it's not my favorite work of his. I prefer his more overtly extravagant novels, which came later.

[Simon A. Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this book! What a fascinating story by such a fascinating author. Malcolm is an orphaned boy who meets a man named Mr. Cox who leads him on a wild odyssey throughout a nameless city. The predominantly wealthy and extravagent characters Malcolm meets along the way fight for his affection and struggle to capture his youth. In the end, the weary and drastically affected Malcolm discovers that the father he's been waiting and searching for, the source of all his confusion and angst, may never have existed to begin with.

Purdy is a master of dialogue and does a wonderful job illustrating the miscommunication that takes place between adults and children, between artists and their subjects.

[JLS · Rating 4 out of 5]

whenever i start a new book i use a fragment of myself as a page mark,
it can either be a picture or a receipt or a note a friend had written.
whenever i go through my bookshelves, lots of memories resurface
from the moment i was reading a specific book.

in this one, lives the tiny piece of paper that i ripped off of the joke calendar
my grandparents have, that sits above the chimney.
it says 16 of july 2021

[Alvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A hilarious high camp oddity. Utterly original, and thoroughly enjoyable.

[Stef Smulders · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not really funny to my taste. Reminds one of Alice in Wonderland but without the fantasy. Could become an entertaining Disney movie maybe but as a read, no.

[Matteo Celeste · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Malcolm" di James Purdy non tradisce nemmeno di un poco le aspettative che i libri di Purdy possono generare in un lettore già uso al suo stile narrativo: storie nelle quali ogni tema presente pare non prevalere su un altro e in cui i protagonisti sperimentano una sofferta mancanza - che risulta in una tensione sotterranea ma palpabile fino all'ultimo punto - che potrebbe essere colmata da qualcuno o qualcosa, se non fosse ch'egli o esso non si rende mai disponibile.
E Malcolm è così: giovane e innocente come nessuno dei personaggi del romanzo può essere e da essi desiderato, in un modo o nell'altro, tanto da volerlo, mi verrebbe da dire, possedere. E Malcolm, che ancora deve scoprire la vita - un quindicenne che ha perso il padre, morto o scomparso, non si sa bene, e che lo attende su una panchina fino all'incontro con l'astrologo Mr Cox, che, fornendogli degli indirizzi, lo introdurrà proprio alla vita -, pare essere proprio lo specchio dentro al quale si riflettono i personaggi che incontrerà - essi oramai sin troppo abituati all'esistenza -; anzi, m'è parso che Malcolm, in questo testo caratterizzato anche da un'amara comicità, tiri fuori dalle persone che incontra ciò che loro desiderano e non possono avere, non da Malcolm certamente, come s'egli avesse un potere speciale che giovinezza e innocenza gli donassero. E in questo "gioco" che scava nel profondo - involontariamente, per quanto riguarda Malcolm, il cui unico desiderio è ritrovare il padre (altra mancanza; neanche Malcolm pare essere risparmiato, alla fine, dallo stesso destino degli altri) - ecco che vengono messe in luce le crepe della società americana (e non solo, probabilmente) il cui modello è tutto legato alle classi sociali, al riconoscimento, al denaro, al matrimonio - tutte cose di cui Malcolm pare non essere completamente consapevole -, con una particolare "messa in discussione" di quest'ultimo nel tono di una comicità cinica tipica di Purdy: «Se c'è una cosa che è fatale alla maggior parte degli uomini, diceva sempre Mr Cox ai suoi seguaci, questa è il matrimonio».
Quindi, di che parla "Malcolm", prima opera pubblicata da Purdy nel 1959? Io ci ho visto appunto una critica sociale e un'analisi di quella particolare condizione in cui le persone possono trovarsi di avere desideri e di non poterli soddisfare. Ma forse, come ha fatto notare Jon Michaud in un articolo sul The New Yorker, c'è anche molta "autobiografia"...
Mi piacciono le parole con cui, nel 1959, Dorothy Parker recensì "Malcolm", e che Jon Michaud ricorda: «Non so se "Malcolm" aumenterà di molto il numero dei lettori di James Purdy. [...] Potrebbe essere, come si dice, solo per gli speciali». Eppure, non si può non esprimere lo stesso desiderio che un passeggero della metropolitana rivolse a Jon Michaud, mentre felice si accorse che il giornalista del The New Yorker leggeva “The Complete Short Stories of James Purdy”: «Vorrei che più persone lo leggessero». E mentre scrivo queste righe finali mi accorgo che tale desiderio potrebbe rimanere insoddisfatto e che io potrei essere senza problemi solo un altro personaggio di un riuscito romanzo di James Purdy...

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

A funny if a bit bizarre and off-kilter, James Purdy's Malcolm feels like a deconstruction of the Innocent Mary Sue type from an era far before that sort of parody had been maimed and beleaguered beyond belief. The corruption of the innocent youth narrative is redolent of Candide and, to a certain extent according to some other readers, The Little Prince, but Malcolm feels less tethered to even the exaggerated reality of Candide.

And make no mistake: Malcolm, though not a novel rife with homosexual acts, is a gay book by a gay author. A very early premise in this book of episodic sketches is how a certain character handles his dwarfism as if it were a coming-out process of self-recognition. He had not known he was a dwarf; it never occurred to him that such a reality was possible; no one had mentioned it to him so it was out of his mind. It's a very sly, and early, riffing on the visibility of certain persecuted identities against others. Not to mention the fabulous drag queen diva-dom of Madame Girard, who gets to utter the fabulous line "You are too ugly to be in public, even a public as small as this room!", who insists on keeping the name after "her" divorce from Girard Girard. Madame Gerard/Girard is most certainly a cover-up as subtle as "Albertine" in Proust's world. Yes, my dear, we know you mean Albert.

Madame Girard absolutely steals the show in the middle of this novel, which makes it all worthwhile. The book is witty, snarky, goofy, darkly humorous, and rife with very bizarre yet comical set pieces about not just sexual initiation, but also that, erm, tried-and-true wellspring of hilarity known as pederasty. (The main pederast in the book is, you guessed it, Mr. Cox). Yes, the book actually pulls this off quite well.

All in all, an enjoyable read and a suitable introduction to Purdy that anticipates superior work to follow. This one's not as cohesive and it doesn't quite earn the absence of thematic or logical cohesion. Excited to read more of him, as he is clearly a funny and talented writer.

[Nik Maack · Rating 2 out of 5]

What the hell did I just read? An opening fascinating enough to make me buy the book quickly devolved into a series of unrelated events. It then finished up being somewhat interesting. The point of the entire book is lost on me.

The opening genuinely had me excited enough to think I'd found an author worth diving into more deeply. I ordered other books by him from the library. But about twenty pages into this book, I was bored out of my mind. A book of Purdy's short stories has a glowing introduction from John Waters, of all people. But I couldn't get into it. And then this novel, Malcom, soured so quickly that reading became a chore. I forced myself to keep reading, wondering where this could be possibly going.

The plot is entirely random. Malcolm meets people. They fawn over him. They fight over him. He meets other new people. Other things happen. It's all so random, there are no real stakes. And the witty conversations and melodramas that take place are dull. This is supposedly a "comic" novel, but nothing funny happens. Am I missing something? Is this a roman a clef? What's happening? What did I just read?

Dorothy Parker is quoted on the cover as saying, "The most prodigiously funny book to streak across these heavy-hanging times."

What did she see in this book? Perhaps it is incredibly dated. There are subtle suggestions of homosexuality that go nowhere. Maybe the tattoo section is shocking? I don't get it. That's what I'm left with. I do not get this book at all, and I don't think there is anything to get. It's a random, pointless, meandering book with occasional glimmers of brilliance that don't have enough power to make the book worth reading.

[EMM · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel was way more fun than I was led to believe. The gay content is pretty low though. The book is absurd and entertaining, surprisingly funny mostly because of the dialogue and the unbelievable characters starting with Malcolm himself. The main character is not a complete idiot, maybe 85 percent. Malcolm becomes a lighting rod for crazy possessiveness from a bunch of people that we could call eccentric if we wanted to be generous, but otherwise we would just call them lunatics, narcissists, and drunks. Many of them are ludicrously wealthy, typical of Purdy. All these improbable characters glommed together into one book don't help to ground the story. But then ordinary people are few and far between in Purdy's writing. Also, because Malcolm is so unreal, he is not easy to identify with, distancing the reader from him. His experience is a series instant, shallow but intense attachments followed by neglect and abandonment. A child but even more childlike than he should be, he is buffeted around by the whims of those who take an interest in him. Since they are profoundly self-centered and irresponsible, this is the best they can do for him. By the end, the novel gains surprising emotional kick. How can a book that more than half the time seems completely ridiculous be heartbreaking? But there it is. It starts out funny ends sad and is all kinds of crazy inbetween.

[Jeffrey Powanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

First published in 1959, Malcolm is a Candide- and jazz-inspired farce about a callow teenage orphan and his strange odyssey through a nameless city. He encounters a wild assortment of freakish characters who are plainly drawn to the boy's innocence and seek to defile him. However, Malcolm is clueless to everyone's sexual advances, a continuing source of comedy and suspense. I admired Purdy's wit, his stylish and sometimes archaic prose, the timeless quality of the story, the casual mix of races (daring for its time), and the poignancy of the ending. This was Purdy's debut novel. Edward Albee later adapted it into a stage play in 1966.

[Djrmel · Rating 4 out of 5]

The blurb on the back of the 1967 Avon Paperback edition says, "Malcolm is the bizarre story of an innocent young man of "exceptional beauty" discovered sitting on a park bench one day waiting for his father. He gets up and goes on a remarkable odyssey meeting improbable characters in situations that are strange, ribald, and poignant." What it doesn't say is how dark this story is, as the "improbable characters" treat Malcolm as a possession rather than a fifteen year old boy. It's a sad story, hard to read in places, but in the end, I loved every page of it.

[Hrothswitha · Rating 4 out of 5]

A recent re-read, and impressed by as much now as then (a rarity). Was introduced to Purdy somewhere in the '70's and was captivated by the story telling. Actually heard him read while at Ohio State -- a singular experience, equal parts uncomfortable (he seemed to be) and enthralling. What a tale teller.

[Borden · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought this book was hard to get into, but after about forty pages I was hooked. I love that character so much! I love all of the eccentrics that fill that book. I would have to throw out spoilers if I elaborated, but this is the best book I've read this year.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

this book was hilarious. i seriously loled. i agree with the other reviewer about the ending. i thought it was pretty weak. otherwise, i had such a grand time reading the meat of this book. curl up with a nice mimosa and read yourself fabulous.

[Chiyo · Rating 4 out of 5]

In questo romanzo i personaggi invece di progredire, regrediscono sempre più, fino a far crollare del tutto la maschera sociale che con tanto sforzo avevano costruito.
Il protagonista sembra una versione maschile di Alice nel paese delle meraviglie. La differenza sostanziale è nell'intelligenza: Malcolm è un ragazzino di quindici anni che non ha mai studiato – se non il poco che il padre gli ha insegnato durante i loro viaggi – e si trova in una condizione di completa ignoranza anche delle cose più elementari. Le uniche qualità che possiede sono bellezza e innocenza. Dopo l’abbandono del padre si ritrova catapultato da solo in un mondo che non capisce. Passa le giornate senza fare nulla seduto sulla sua panchina, finché non incontra Mr. Cox, il quale gli fornirà degli indirizzi di persone da incontrare per migliorare la sua situazione. Questi personaggi sono tutte caricature di persone dell’alta società, con vizi estremi di cui Malcolm non sarà mai del tutto consapevole; i quali si contenderanno il povero ragazzino per avere un minimo di bellezza e innocenza nella loro vita.
Un romanzo che con delicatezza apre una critica alla società americana degli anni Sessanta. Imperdibile realismo magico in salsa USA.

[(TraParentesi) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dell'educazione sentimentale - in forma allegorica - di un bellissimo, giovanissimo, stralunato fanciullo ad opera di un circo di personaggi uno più bizzarro dell'altro.
(Tra Alice in Wonderland e una pièce di Beckett, un romanzo licenzioso, ironico e elegante come un libello 700esco).

[Matthew Cullen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Strange / funny

[Jeffrey Canino]

Purdy's first and most popular novel, MALCOLM was later adapted by famed dramatist Edward Albee into a gigantic flop of a Broadway play in 1966 (lasting only seven performances!). As gleaned from a wonderful piece on the history of Purdy and Albee's fraught collaboration by Michael Snyder in the LA Review of Books, Albee's play sounds not particularly worth reading, but it's easy to see why MALCOLM would appear such a strong fit for the stage. Purdy's style in this early effort is like Beckett writing CANDIDE. He's crafted a perverse bildungsroman where the blank hero-- who openly describes himself as nothing more than a "cypher"-- flits through a series of strange rooms, seeking some connection and approval from their stranger inhabitants, while everyone he encounters uses him as a pawn in battles too petty to be comprehensible. It's scathing, it's funny, it's discomfiting, but, like most Purdy, it's mostly deeply sad.

[Colin N. · Rating 3 out of 5]

What a really bizarre novel. "Malcolm" follows the strange journey of the title character, a 15 year old kid whose father has disappeared and who sits on a bench in front of his hotel every day. Malcolm is very much a blank slate, yet everyone he meets is charmed and immediately taken by him. After meeting an astrologer, Mr. Cox, one day, Malcolm is gradually introduced to ever-increasingly bizarre characters who befriend him.

"Malcolm" is often quite funny, the people and situations he finds himself in are really odd and the conversations are strangely compelling, often seeming like a wild dream crossed with Waiting for Godot. Not sure what any of it meant, but entertaining nevertheless.

[Mimonni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Letto prima de “Il tamburo di latta” ma sotto certi aspetti i due personaggi si assomigliano. Sono unici, diversi e sovrastati dal mondo e nel mondo si buttano a capofitto (certo Malcolm è più sprovveduto, almeno al primo impatto).

Questa è un’altra piccola perla della collana Minimum Classics che propone sempre qualità e originalità da un passato piuttosto recente (questo è un romanzo pubblicato nel 1959) ma sconosciuto a noi lettori italiani di lingua italiana. In questo romanzo ho trovato quegli ingredienti che spesso vado cercando in un libro, cioè surrealismo nelle situazioni, ma verità nuda e cruda nella lettura di tali situazioni.

[Kyle · Rating 3 out of 5]

This 1959 novel was extemely weird. The cover blurbs portray it as so shocking and outre at the time, but it was way too tame for me. There was hardly any overt homosexuality in it, nor really any overt sexuality of any kind. There were a bunch of weird artists and musicians and the plot seemed to kind of wimp out on making any kind of conclusion by having the main character die. Still, it was so weird that I couldn't stop reading it to see what would happen, although if I had known that there would be so little gayness, and so little resolution/satisfaction, perhaps I would have.

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

A truly interesting and unusual book. Has an almost children's book like quailty. Its characters and their adventures can be taken at face value or as symbols and work effectively either way. I can understand why Albee was drawn to dramatize it because it also has an abstractness that is reflective of his sensabililty. Satirical without being biting. Reminded me vaguely of Ronald Firbank. Intriguing.

[Eve Howard · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a weird class of its own

One of those literary oddities, like Little Me, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Day of the Locust and Pritzzi’s Honor, a sort of fairytale satire, with overtones of lust, folly and vice. Charmingly artificial, engagingly freakish, this is David Lynch meets Wilkie Collins meets Cole Porter in Paris at its gayest.

[Jail Flanagain · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book has a great "huh?" quality to it. The bizzare overly literate dialogue, the complete lack of plot, sentimental feelings and the weird ending where it seems almost like Purdy just sort of ended it in a fit of pique. I really liked it.

[Andrew Chidzey · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an enjoyable novel that I picked up recently in the USA. I did not realise until the end of the book that it was written in 1959 - the chapters were short and the characters diverse and engaging. A quirky little story and a good way to finish my reading for the year.

[Kobe Bryant · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not that absurd nor funny

[Colin Buck · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wasn't quite sure what to make of this book. Its short length certainly worked in its favor. It was weird. Not surreal or outlandish, just weird.

[Federico Tommasi Zardini · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro che rispecchia le stesse caratteristiche del suo protagonista: bello e spontaneamente affascinante.