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Le otto montagne
La montagna non è solo neve e dirupi, creste, torrenti, laghi, pascoli. La montagna è un modo di vivere la vita. Un passo davanti all'altro, silenzio, tempo e misura. Lo ha imparato Paolo Cognetti, che tra una vetta e una baita ambienta questo potentissimo romanzo. Una storia di amicizia tra due ragazzi - e poi due uomini - così diversi da assomigliarsi, un viaggio avventuroso e spirituale fatto di fughe e tentativi di ritorno, alla continua ricerca di una strada per riconoscersi.
208 pages, Paperback
First published November 1, 2016
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February 13, 2018
Bovenop de stapel boeken die ik heel goed vind, liggen er een paar die nog bijzonderder zijn dan de andere heel goede boeken. Naar die boeken ben ik ook nog eens hevig blijven verlangen terwijl ik iets anders moest doen, zoals eten of de mailbox te lijf gaan.
Vanochtend werd ik om halfzeven wakker. Ik had me nog een halfuur op mijn andere zij kunnen draaien, maar het was al te laat: ik had aan Paolo Cognetti’s ‘De acht bergen’ op het nachtkastje gedacht.
Met de slaap nog in mijn ogen knipte ik de bedlamp aan en verheugde me al op het weerzien. Het duurde maar een paar regels of ik bevond me in de berghut die door Pietro en zijn beste vriend Bruno van een bouwval in een bewoond huis is veranderd. De plek, die Pietro’s moeder en vader ‘barma drola’ noemden, de ‘vreemde rots’ op tweeduizend meter hoogte, met uitzicht op een lager gelegen bergmeer en de zonnekant van het dal, is voor hen allebei van grote betekenis.
De laatste bladzijden van heel goede boeken waarnaar ik hevig ben blijven verlangen zijn de mooiste en de moeilijkste. Na de allerlaatste bladzijde word ik altijd getroffen door een soort verdriet, maar al gauw neemt dan het gevoel van voldoening de overhand, omdat ik nieuwe mensen heb leren kennen, in dit geval: een paar levens heb zien langskomen. Dan vind ik het weer schitterend, al dat vuur dat kan blijven smeulen.
Ik doe ‘De acht bergen’ onrecht als ik het samenvat als een verhaal over een boezemvriendschap, over de erfenis die we van onze ouders krijgen, over het feit dat ‘niemand voor anderen kan zorgen, voor jezelf zorgen is al een hele onderneming,’ zoals Bruno ergens zegt.
Wat namelijk niet samen te vatten of na te vertellen valt, is de manier waarop Cognetti leven tussen de bladzijden blaast. Hij zet de Italiaanse Alpen vanaf bladzijde een om je heen, laat het winter of lente worden in een dal of op een alm, stuurt je achter Pietro’s vader de puinhellingen op, en als de rotsen grommelen, dan begrijp je het gevaar. Deze schrijver krijgt de status van een tovenaar, want betoveren doet hij.
Na de laatste bladzijde van ‘De acht bergen’ overkwam me wat me al heel lang niet meer overkomen is. Doordrongen van de winter van 2014, die in de Westerse Alpen een van de meest sneeuwrijke van de laatste vijftig jaar is geweest, en met Bruno en Pietro en Lara in gedachten liep ik vanochtend naar de keuken om koffie te zetten, en toen ik de hoek omkwam, bleef ik enigszins geschrokken staan. Achter het raam had ik de winter verwacht, een berglandschap, en ik dacht geen koffie te zetten als deel van mijn ochtendritueel, maar omdat ik van buiten kwam, koude handen had en me aan de kachel zou warmen.
‘De acht bergen’ is uit het Italiaans vertaald door Yond Boeke en Patty Krone.
Deze bespreking en andere tips vindt u onder BLOG op www.bartmoeyaert.com.
Vanochtend werd ik om halfzeven wakker. Ik had me nog een halfuur op mijn andere zij kunnen draaien, maar het was al te laat: ik had aan Paolo Cognetti’s ‘De acht bergen’ op het nachtkastje gedacht.
Met de slaap nog in mijn ogen knipte ik de bedlamp aan en verheugde me al op het weerzien. Het duurde maar een paar regels of ik bevond me in de berghut die door Pietro en zijn beste vriend Bruno van een bouwval in een bewoond huis is veranderd. De plek, die Pietro’s moeder en vader ‘barma drola’ noemden, de ‘vreemde rots’ op tweeduizend meter hoogte, met uitzicht op een lager gelegen bergmeer en de zonnekant van het dal, is voor hen allebei van grote betekenis.
De laatste bladzijden van heel goede boeken waarnaar ik hevig ben blijven verlangen zijn de mooiste en de moeilijkste. Na de allerlaatste bladzijde word ik altijd getroffen door een soort verdriet, maar al gauw neemt dan het gevoel van voldoening de overhand, omdat ik nieuwe mensen heb leren kennen, in dit geval: een paar levens heb zien langskomen. Dan vind ik het weer schitterend, al dat vuur dat kan blijven smeulen.
Ik doe ‘De acht bergen’ onrecht als ik het samenvat als een verhaal over een boezemvriendschap, over de erfenis die we van onze ouders krijgen, over het feit dat ‘niemand voor anderen kan zorgen, voor jezelf zorgen is al een hele onderneming,’ zoals Bruno ergens zegt.
Wat namelijk niet samen te vatten of na te vertellen valt, is de manier waarop Cognetti leven tussen de bladzijden blaast. Hij zet de Italiaanse Alpen vanaf bladzijde een om je heen, laat het winter of lente worden in een dal of op een alm, stuurt je achter Pietro’s vader de puinhellingen op, en als de rotsen grommelen, dan begrijp je het gevaar. Deze schrijver krijgt de status van een tovenaar, want betoveren doet hij.
Na de laatste bladzijde van ‘De acht bergen’ overkwam me wat me al heel lang niet meer overkomen is. Doordrongen van de winter van 2014, die in de Westerse Alpen een van de meest sneeuwrijke van de laatste vijftig jaar is geweest, en met Bruno en Pietro en Lara in gedachten liep ik vanochtend naar de keuken om koffie te zetten, en toen ik de hoek omkwam, bleef ik enigszins geschrokken staan. Achter het raam had ik de winter verwacht, een berglandschap, en ik dacht geen koffie te zetten als deel van mijn ochtendritueel, maar omdat ik van buiten kwam, koude handen had en me aan de kachel zou warmen.
‘De acht bergen’ is uit het Italiaans vertaald door Yond Boeke en Patty Krone.
Deze bespreking en andere tips vindt u onder BLOG op www.bartmoeyaert.com.
January 17, 2023
STORIA DI CHI FUGGE E DI CHI RESTA
L’immagine sulla copertina del libro.
Qui si narra di un’amicizia maschile che abbraccia tre decenni nella quale il narratore è quello che gira il mondo, anche se si tiene lontano dallo studio così come l’amico montanaro.
Perfino la fine della storia potrebbe avere analogie con quell’altra più celebre, ma non mi addentro per non incorrere in spoiler.
C’è una figura genitoriale controversa e ostica, anche se qui man mano viene recuperata alla grande, il conflitto si stempera e trova il suo corso verso l’accettazione.
Il tutto avviene al nord, e non al sud, come nell’altra.
E qui per me le analogie si fermano.
Ma in realtà non sono neppure cominciate, ho soluto voluto partecipare a un gioco di società.
Era come se, attaccando lo stesso vecchio sentiero una volta all’anno, si addentrasse tra i ricordi e risalisse il corso della propria memoria.
Cognetti voleva che questo romanzo (il suo primo vero romanzo, essendo Sofia si veste sempre di nero ancora una raccolta di racconti pur se con protagonista unica) fosse il suo personale Gente del Wyoming, il suo In mezzo scorre il fiume, e secondo me raggiunge l’obiettivo e lo scopo prefisso.
[Per la cronaca, Cognetti dice che avrebbe voluto fosse anche il suo Due di due e Narciso e Boccadoro, ma io credo che i primi due riferimenti siano più degni del suo talento].
È un libro bello, per me molto bello. Senza se e senza ma. Non appartiene alla categoria ‘o si ama o si odia’, mi pare impossibile odiare un libro così: si può non amarlo, come invece ho fatto io, o non amarlo così tanto com’è successo a me, ma odiarlo mi sembra davvero impossibile.
È compatto nella sua breve estensione.
Parla una lingua levigata come i sassi arrotondati, smussati, lisciati dallo scorrere dell’acqua, asciutta e parsimoniosa, senza spreco di parole. Come non si sprecano passi per salire in cima alla montagna.
Una lingua semplice, risultato di vera conoscenza, di un lavoro stratificato (pure se nella citazione che riporto in basso Cognetti mi smentisce in pieno).
Non amo le montagne e ci vado raramente, ma Paolo Cognetti descrive un panorama interiore che mi suona familiare, in cui mi riconosco, perché sa essere universale, sa accogliere e non escludere.
In questa storia maschile, dove i personaggi al centro del racconto sono tre uomini, un padre, il figlio e il suo amico, la figura femminile della mamma del narratore è magnifica, spicca luminosa e profonda.
Ho trovato in questo Cognetti molteplicità di lettura: sono pagine che propongono interpretazioni diverse, che offrono ampia scelta di chiavi di lettura, suggeriscono opzioni e alternative anche quando sembrano chiudersi tra due opposti, spaziano oltre la cima e al di là del cerchio.
Qual è la montagna più alta, la più ardua da salire, quella al centro del mandala, o le otto intorno al cerchio? Quella di Bruno o quelle di Pietro?
Il centro della storia è l’amicizia o il rapporto filiale?
Futuro e passato possono scambiarsi, essere a monte o a valle, a seconda che si segua il percorso dell’acqua o si assuma la prospettiva del pesce che cerca nutrimento.
Il dritto di una montagna è il lato esposto al sole, il rovescio quello a nord che vive di luce riflessa. La casa che gli amici ricostruiscono affaccia all’envers: scelta di vita?
Romanzo moderno e romanzo classico, che racconta dell’oggi e dello ieri.
Per arrivare in cima occorre un lungo tempo d’ascensione: ma si rimane in vetta lo spazio di una sigaretta, e poi si torna a valle in meno della metà del tempo.
Muoversi in montagna richiede conoscenza: ma la vita di montagna non porta benessere.
Storia fisica e di avventure, ma impregnata di spiritualità.
Vicenda di viaggio e di staticità.
Centro e periferia.
Libertà del viaggio, del salire, dell’esplorare, o prigione?
Potenza della natura che però tutto rovina.
Occidente e Oriente.
Andare o restare. Partire o tornare.
Il dialogo, la comunicazione sembra passare soprattutto attraverso silenzi.
Il rapporto padre e figlio, la simbolica uccisione del padre è la molla del viaggio, lo scatto verso la crescita, la morte che genera vita, la solitudine accomuna più dell’amicizia, la famiglia non è quella di sangue che ci genera ma è grande quanto otto montagne...
Ecco alcune delle mie personali chiavi di lettura di questo breve ricco denso magnifico libro.
Varietà di possibilità. Sta a noi lettori scegliere.
Come nella migliore letteratura la soluzione non è imposta, non è certa, non sbarra il cammino e non blocca la vista.
Da tempo volevo scrivere una storia di montagna, di padri e figli e di amicizia maschile…Sapevo che ci sarebbe stata una montagna intorno alla mia storia, un padre all'inizio di tutto, e due amici al centro; e sapevo che il suo respiro sarebbe stato più ampio del solito, per i modelli che avevo in mente e per la scrittura che volevo ottenere…Questa storia è uscita così com'è, non ho riscritto quasi niente, non ho fatto prove ed errori, non ho buttato pagine su pagine, non mi sono mai sentito in crisi per non sapere dove andare, e a metà del lavoro ho addirittura abbandonato i miei amati quaderni perché non servivano più, potevo scrivere direttamente in bella. È una sensazione magnifica quando succede così. La scrittura esce dalle mani e non hai che da seguire la storia fino alla fine.
dal blog dell’autore, Capitano mio Capitano
L’immagine sulla copertina del libro.
Qui si narra di un’amicizia maschile che abbraccia tre decenni nella quale il narratore è quello che gira il mondo, anche se si tiene lontano dallo studio così come l’amico montanaro.
Perfino la fine della storia potrebbe avere analogie con quell’altra più celebre, ma non mi addentro per non incorrere in spoiler.
C’è una figura genitoriale controversa e ostica, anche se qui man mano viene recuperata alla grande, il conflitto si stempera e trova il suo corso verso l’accettazione.
Il tutto avviene al nord, e non al sud, come nell’altra.
E qui per me le analogie si fermano.
Ma in realtà non sono neppure cominciate, ho soluto voluto partecipare a un gioco di società.
Era come se, attaccando lo stesso vecchio sentiero una volta all’anno, si addentrasse tra i ricordi e risalisse il corso della propria memoria.
Cognetti voleva che questo romanzo (il suo primo vero romanzo, essendo Sofia si veste sempre di nero ancora una raccolta di racconti pur se con protagonista unica) fosse il suo personale Gente del Wyoming, il suo In mezzo scorre il fiume, e secondo me raggiunge l’obiettivo e lo scopo prefisso.
[Per la cronaca, Cognetti dice che avrebbe voluto fosse anche il suo Due di due e Narciso e Boccadoro, ma io credo che i primi due riferimenti siano più degni del suo talento].
È un libro bello, per me molto bello. Senza se e senza ma. Non appartiene alla categoria ‘o si ama o si odia’, mi pare impossibile odiare un libro così: si può non amarlo, come invece ho fatto io, o non amarlo così tanto com’è successo a me, ma odiarlo mi sembra davvero impossibile.
È compatto nella sua breve estensione.
Parla una lingua levigata come i sassi arrotondati, smussati, lisciati dallo scorrere dell’acqua, asciutta e parsimoniosa, senza spreco di parole. Come non si sprecano passi per salire in cima alla montagna.
Una lingua semplice, risultato di vera conoscenza, di un lavoro stratificato (pure se nella citazione che riporto in basso Cognetti mi smentisce in pieno).
Non amo le montagne e ci vado raramente, ma Paolo Cognetti descrive un panorama interiore che mi suona familiare, in cui mi riconosco, perché sa essere universale, sa accogliere e non escludere.
In questa storia maschile, dove i personaggi al centro del racconto sono tre uomini, un padre, il figlio e il suo amico, la figura femminile della mamma del narratore è magnifica, spicca luminosa e profonda.
Ho trovato in questo Cognetti molteplicità di lettura: sono pagine che propongono interpretazioni diverse, che offrono ampia scelta di chiavi di lettura, suggeriscono opzioni e alternative anche quando sembrano chiudersi tra due opposti, spaziano oltre la cima e al di là del cerchio.
Qual è la montagna più alta, la più ardua da salire, quella al centro del mandala, o le otto intorno al cerchio? Quella di Bruno o quelle di Pietro?
Il centro della storia è l’amicizia o il rapporto filiale?
Futuro e passato possono scambiarsi, essere a monte o a valle, a seconda che si segua il percorso dell’acqua o si assuma la prospettiva del pesce che cerca nutrimento.
Il dritto di una montagna è il lato esposto al sole, il rovescio quello a nord che vive di luce riflessa. La casa che gli amici ricostruiscono affaccia all’envers: scelta di vita?
Romanzo moderno e romanzo classico, che racconta dell’oggi e dello ieri.
Per arrivare in cima occorre un lungo tempo d’ascensione: ma si rimane in vetta lo spazio di una sigaretta, e poi si torna a valle in meno della metà del tempo.
Muoversi in montagna richiede conoscenza: ma la vita di montagna non porta benessere.
Storia fisica e di avventure, ma impregnata di spiritualità.
Vicenda di viaggio e di staticità.
Centro e periferia.
Libertà del viaggio, del salire, dell’esplorare, o prigione?
Potenza della natura che però tutto rovina.
Occidente e Oriente.
Andare o restare. Partire o tornare.
Il dialogo, la comunicazione sembra passare soprattutto attraverso silenzi.
Il rapporto padre e figlio, la simbolica uccisione del padre è la molla del viaggio, lo scatto verso la crescita, la morte che genera vita, la solitudine accomuna più dell’amicizia, la famiglia non è quella di sangue che ci genera ma è grande quanto otto montagne...
Ecco alcune delle mie personali chiavi di lettura di questo breve ricco denso magnifico libro.
Varietà di possibilità. Sta a noi lettori scegliere.
Come nella migliore letteratura la soluzione non è imposta, non è certa, non sbarra il cammino e non blocca la vista.
Da tempo volevo scrivere una storia di montagna, di padri e figli e di amicizia maschile…Sapevo che ci sarebbe stata una montagna intorno alla mia storia, un padre all'inizio di tutto, e due amici al centro; e sapevo che il suo respiro sarebbe stato più ampio del solito, per i modelli che avevo in mente e per la scrittura che volevo ottenere…Questa storia è uscita così com'è, non ho riscritto quasi niente, non ho fatto prove ed errori, non ho buttato pagine su pagine, non mi sono mai sentito in crisi per non sapere dove andare, e a metà del lavoro ho addirittura abbandonato i miei amati quaderni perché non servivano più, potevo scrivere direttamente in bella. È una sensazione magnifica quando succede così. La scrittura esce dalle mani e non hai che da seguire la storia fino alla fine.
dal blog dell’autore, Capitano mio Capitano
March 21, 2022
Quiet, introspective, first person narrative, things that I am always drawn to in a book, combined with beautiful writing that had me highlighting passages right from the start. This along with characters I cared about made for a five star book for me . The mountains, the Dolomites in northern Italy and later the Himalayas, the landscape that affects the landscape of the lives of the characters both individually and in their relationships with each other . Husband and wife, father and son , two young boys forging a friendship and a bond that remains unbreakable in spite of years of separation. Pietro, raised in Milan, doesn’t always understand the pull of the mountains on his father, or the hold that they have on his friend Bruno. It is years later after his father’s death that Pietro connects with his father, with Bruno’s help . It is when he experiences the pull of the mountains and learns his father’s story that father and son become bound in a way that is poignant and heartbreaking. A beautifully written story. A short book and a short review, but a book full of depth of loss, friendship and love.
I received an advanced copy of this book from Atria through NetGalley.
September 3, 2023
A great story of two boys, a city boy and a country boy, growing up in the dolomite mountains in northern Italy - the Italian Alps. This book won the 2017 Strega Prize, Italy’s highest literary honor.
The city boy lives in Milan but spends summers with his parents in the mountains. They turn him loose and every year he spends his time with a local farm boy who shows him another side of life exploring the mountains and rummaging through abandoned buildings.
The city boy’s father is a Type-A who “conquers” mountains and takes his son with him. With him, it’s all about distance, endurance and speed. They don’t climb mountains in the sense of using ropes and pitons; rather they take day-long hikes, sometimes with the farm boy when he’s free from his incessant chores. We’re told the boys were 11 in 1984, so that gives us an idea of the time frame of the coming-of-age part of the novel. Later chapters follow the boys into adulthood.
I’ll put my wrap-up paragraphs next so the spoilers that follow are at the end of my review.
I liked the story – it’s a bit like a travelog and talks a lot about nature so, theme-wise, it reminds me a lot of Thoreau’s work like Cape Cod or A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. And a lot is about solitude.
The mountains are featured so much, they are like characters in the novel. I’ve described this type of book in other reviews as an “environmental novel.” The best example I think of is Annie Proulx’s novel The Shipping News where her characters seem to be small specks against the giant backdrop of rock, sea and storms in Newfoundland. Man and woman against nature. Interestingly, Annie Proulx wrote the blurb that is featured on the cover of my edition of The Eight Mountains!
SPOILERS FOLLOW
A good story. I’m giving it a ‘5’ and adding it to my favorites.
The Italian author (B. 1978) has written a half-dozen novels but this appears to be the only one translated into English. It's his best-know work on GR and relatively highly rated at 4.1. The author also produces documentaries. He lives in the Italian mountains alone for several months each year.
The Italian Alps from britannica.com
The author's mountain chalet from culturaal.com
The author from penguin.com.au
[Edited for clarity and typos 1/12/22 and 9/3/23]
The city boy lives in Milan but spends summers with his parents in the mountains. They turn him loose and every year he spends his time with a local farm boy who shows him another side of life exploring the mountains and rummaging through abandoned buildings.
The city boy’s father is a Type-A who “conquers” mountains and takes his son with him. With him, it’s all about distance, endurance and speed. They don’t climb mountains in the sense of using ropes and pitons; rather they take day-long hikes, sometimes with the farm boy when he’s free from his incessant chores. We’re told the boys were 11 in 1984, so that gives us an idea of the time frame of the coming-of-age part of the novel. Later chapters follow the boys into adulthood.
I’ll put my wrap-up paragraphs next so the spoilers that follow are at the end of my review.
I liked the story – it’s a bit like a travelog and talks a lot about nature so, theme-wise, it reminds me a lot of Thoreau’s work like Cape Cod or A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. And a lot is about solitude.
The mountains are featured so much, they are like characters in the novel. I’ve described this type of book in other reviews as an “environmental novel.” The best example I think of is Annie Proulx’s novel The Shipping News where her characters seem to be small specks against the giant backdrop of rock, sea and storms in Newfoundland. Man and woman against nature. Interestingly, Annie Proulx wrote the blurb that is featured on the cover of my edition of The Eight Mountains!
SPOILERS FOLLOW
A good story. I’m giving it a ‘5’ and adding it to my favorites.
The Italian author (B. 1978) has written a half-dozen novels but this appears to be the only one translated into English. It's his best-know work on GR and relatively highly rated at 4.1. The author also produces documentaries. He lives in the Italian mountains alone for several months each year.
The Italian Alps from britannica.com
The author's mountain chalet from culturaal.com
The author from penguin.com.au
[Edited for clarity and typos 1/12/22 and 9/3/23]
March 19, 2018
I will struggle with this review because the small novel did not say anything to me. I did not feel anything, only a bit of impatience to finish so I can read something else. I cannot fault the Paolo Cognetti, the novel felt well written and the story, of 2 friends who found themselves in the mountains, should have been endearing. Only that it wasn’t for me. Maybe if I loved mountains more and had warm memories of trekking, I would have enjoyed this more. I like the look of mountains and being on top of them but I prefer getting there by car. I admit I am not a fan of climbing. The main character isn’t either so I should have sympathized with him. Only that I didn’t care about him at all.
This is the story of two friends, Pietro and Bruno. They meet when Pietro’s parents rent a cottage in the mountains, in a small forgotten village. Bruno is the only child in the village and the two children soon begin to spend time together. Each year, Pietro and his mum (and sometimes the dad) spend the summer holidays in this village and the friendship is resumed. When Pietro grows up, he stops visiting and tries to make his life away from his parents in Milan and the mountains. However, he will return to the village due to an unpleasant circumstance and he will get the chance to spend more time with his old friend. It is a simple story, of joy of life and the beauty of friendship but, as I said, it failed to touch me, do not know exactly why.
Thanks to Netgalley and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is the story of two friends, Pietro and Bruno. They meet when Pietro’s parents rent a cottage in the mountains, in a small forgotten village. Bruno is the only child in the village and the two children soon begin to spend time together. Each year, Pietro and his mum (and sometimes the dad) spend the summer holidays in this village and the friendship is resumed. When Pietro grows up, he stops visiting and tries to make his life away from his parents in Milan and the mountains. However, he will return to the village due to an unpleasant circumstance and he will get the chance to spend more time with his old friend. It is a simple story, of joy of life and the beauty of friendship but, as I said, it failed to touch me, do not know exactly why.
Thanks to Netgalley and Random House UK, Vintage Publishing for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
May 20, 2025
الجبال الثمانية لباولو كونيّتي
رواية صديقة للذاكرة تظل تومض في مرتفعات ممتدة بين الوعي السطحي والوعي المتخفي في الكهف البعيد
تحقق معادلة المزج الرائق الصافي بين القصة والسرد والأفكار
خط أبيض هنا تبدأ الحياة
مع كل ميراثنا الجيني والبيئي نحن في درجة الصفر
مرتفعات أمامنا تراود البصر وتغزو الخيال
تنادينا تجارب كنداهة تخرج من نهر الحواديت
النهر يرتفع في مسار شاهق
يصبح جبالا مرسومة بغموض دقيق
بداخلها طرق غير ممهدة مع كثرة من مروا في جسدها الصخري الذي كثيرا ما انهار
لينزل إلى النهر السحري
نصعد ونتشبث ونقف ونواصل ونكتب أسماءنا
ونروي ذكرياتنا
أسرارنا التي لم تخرج حتى بيننا
لعبة تدربنا عليها مع الآباء
واختار أصدقاؤنا خطط آبائنا
واخترنا عالما يجمعنا بهم بعيدا عن متاهة الرحلة
هناك في مشاعرنا منابع تجري تحت اللحظات المتعلّقة بصخور الوقت
ركام الثلج ينهار إلى أسفل والزمن ينصب من عل بمباهج وأحزان
هنا لم يعرف الآخرون ما عرفناه
لم يروا ما نراه
لم يلتقطوا إشارات الصيف والشتاء
لم يخرجوا في رحالاتنا الصاعدة
لم يصنعوا بيتا مثل بيتنا في قلب الألب
وفي الهيمالايا كنا نخاطبهم وكأننا هناك
رواية لن تنساها
إذا كان العقّاد يرى أن القراءة تمنحه حيوات إضافية
فالكتابة تمنحنا صناعة المعرفة في نسيج الجمال
المبدع يستخلص من نفسه شخصية يتمنّاها
يتركها ويعود إليها حين يفتقد المودة في العالم
في الوقت ذاته يمنح نفسه صيغة أخرى للتعايش الشعوري الرائع
حين تتشكّل له هويّة تناسب وجوده مع الآخر الذي تخيّله
سيظل بيترو وبرونو صورتين من قلب باولو كونيّتي
المقيم في الجبال
والعابر إليها
ويبقى الرمز هناك في أنهار تحت الصخور
تحمل الأسرار التي تركتها الرواية في بنيتها السردية الجبلية الصاعدة
التي اتخذت نسقا معرفيا من رقة الصلابة المانحة في النفوس والطبيعة
رائع أن يلمس الكاتب مساحات كانت شبه فارغة في أذهاننا
أن يلقي الضوء على صمت العلاقات الثرية
التي لا تقتنع بالسذاجة الغافلة
فتضرب في كراسة رسم المدركات
خطوطا لحركة المشاعر الهائمة
والأفكار التي تنو صغيرة
فتصبح شجرة في دوران أجوائنا
التي اتخذت من لوحة الصعود مجالا لمسارات معقدة
تكثر بها المنحنيات والمنحدرات
المجاز الحيوي الشاهق الماثل في خيال دائري محيط
يطرح أمامنا محركا لمتواليات المدركات المتشابكة
الرؤى ليست محددة مسبقا وفقا لمقياس رسم خريطة وجودنا الروحي
إننا تستكشف ملامحها في أعوام طويلة
حافلة بالمد والجزر ونحن نرقى في سبل المعرفة
أيها الصديق الجديد المرتقي جبل السرد
لقد منحتنا لوحة يتعلّق بها وعينا
وهو يلم بأبجدية الجمال
الكتابة صعود جبل له تعاريجه ومنحنياته
السرد له طرق تعلو بالحدث وتتوغل في الشخصية
وتقيم حبالا تصل الداخل بالخارج
وتنقل مشاعر المخيّلة وتصوّرات الذهن
للكلمات المساعدة على التمسّك بالاستمرار
والانتقال بين الأحوال والأفكار
ثمانية جبال يصعدها الكاتب
الشكل بحكايته وروابطه وصوره وصيغه
والمعنى بدقائقه واستنباطه من الشكل ووضوحه واحتمالاته الغامضة
النفس المتدفقة الدافعة الملهمة التي تعلن عن طاقتها وتفعّل وجودها
الطبيعة ذاك العالم الحافل الذي يستوعبنا في جسده الكبير ونستوعبه في معجمنا الإشاري
الآخر الذي يشاركنا الآن والمكان واللسان ونسعى لتلامس روحي في أرض نعرفها بدرجة ما
الإنسان البعيد الذي لم نره ولم يرنا وستصله خريطة وجودنا الروحي بلغة أخرى في زمان ممتد
اللغة التي نطوّعها لصعودنا الوجودي بمشاعرنا وأفكارنا واكتشافاتنا الصغيرة
الجمال الذي يحركنا لإنجاز ذاتنا الكامنة العميقة الجارية كنهر خلف صخور الألفة
في العالم يكون لنا شيء نتعلّق به
شخص نجد وجودنا في لقائه
مكان مثل موضع في جبل سامق ممتد
يتساقط الوقت من أعلاه
من المستقبل ليحتضنه الماضي
كخزانة شعورية لعلاقتاتنا بالكون
نستدعيه وحدنا ونستقطر عبير تكويننا
فنستخلص عطر الحب من ذكرى حبيب
ونطلقه في خيط السرد العالق
بالقمة التي لا نعلم من وصل إليها
فكل الآثار التي ألقاها الصاعدون في الطريق
تنقطع بعد اختفاء أصحابها
حين يجدون الطريق نحو القمم
فكرة تذكّرني بمتون الأهرام للغيطاني
ونهاية مصطفى سعيد في موسم الهجرة إلى الشمال
لكن الأثر عند باولو كونيتي
يظل معلقا بحبل لم يمسه سوى اثنين
المقيم الذي عبر والعابر الذي أقام صديقه في في قلبه الشاهق
رواية صديقة للذاكرة تظل تومض في مرتفعات ممتدة بين الوعي السطحي والوعي المتخفي في الكهف البعيد
تحقق معادلة المزج الرائق الصافي بين القصة والسرد والأفكار
خط أبيض هنا تبدأ الحياة
مع كل ميراثنا الجيني والبيئي نحن في درجة الصفر
مرتفعات أمامنا تراود البصر وتغزو الخيال
تنادينا تجارب كنداهة تخرج من نهر الحواديت
النهر يرتفع في مسار شاهق
يصبح جبالا مرسومة بغموض دقيق
بداخلها طرق غير ممهدة مع كثرة من مروا في جسدها الصخري الذي كثيرا ما انهار
لينزل إلى النهر السحري
نصعد ونتشبث ونقف ونواصل ونكتب أسماءنا
ونروي ذكرياتنا
أسرارنا التي لم تخرج حتى بيننا
لعبة تدربنا عليها مع الآباء
واختار أصدقاؤنا خطط آبائنا
واخترنا عالما يجمعنا بهم بعيدا عن متاهة الرحلة
هناك في مشاعرنا منابع تجري تحت اللحظات المتعلّقة بصخور الوقت
ركام الثلج ينهار إلى أسفل والزمن ينصب من عل بمباهج وأحزان
هنا لم يعرف الآخرون ما عرفناه
لم يروا ما نراه
لم يلتقطوا إشارات الصيف والشتاء
لم يخرجوا في رحالاتنا الصاعدة
لم يصنعوا بيتا مثل بيتنا في قلب الألب
وفي الهيمالايا كنا نخاطبهم وكأننا هناك
رواية لن تنساها
إذا كان العقّاد يرى أن القراءة تمنحه حيوات إضافية
فالكتابة تمنحنا صناعة المعرفة في نسيج الجمال
المبدع يستخلص من نفسه شخصية يتمنّاها
يتركها ويعود إليها حين يفتقد المودة في العالم
في الوقت ذاته يمنح نفسه صيغة أخرى للتعايش الشعوري الرائع
حين تتشكّل له هويّة تناسب وجوده مع الآخر الذي تخيّله
سيظل بيترو وبرونو صورتين من قلب باولو كونيّتي
المقيم في الجبال
والعابر إليها
ويبقى الرمز هناك في أنهار تحت الصخور
تحمل الأسرار التي تركتها الرواية في بنيتها السردية الجبلية الصاعدة
التي اتخذت نسقا معرفيا من رقة الصلابة المانحة في النفوس والطبيعة
رائع أن يلمس الكاتب مساحات كانت شبه فارغة في أذهاننا
أن يلقي الضوء على صمت العلاقات الثرية
التي لا تقتنع بالسذاجة الغافلة
فتضرب في كراسة رسم المدركات
خطوطا لحركة المشاعر الهائمة
والأفكار التي تنو صغيرة
فتصبح شجرة في دوران أجوائنا
التي اتخذت من لوحة الصعود مجالا لمسارات معقدة
تكثر بها المنحنيات والمنحدرات
المجاز الحيوي الشاهق الماثل في خيال دائري محيط
يطرح أمامنا محركا لمتواليات المدركات المتشابكة
الرؤى ليست محددة مسبقا وفقا لمقياس رسم خريطة وجودنا الروحي
إننا تستكشف ملامحها في أعوام طويلة
حافلة بالمد والجزر ونحن نرقى في سبل المعرفة
أيها الصديق الجديد المرتقي جبل السرد
لقد منحتنا لوحة يتعلّق بها وعينا
وهو يلم بأبجدية الجمال
الكتابة صعود جبل له تعاريجه ومنحنياته
السرد له طرق تعلو بالحدث وتتوغل في الشخصية
وتقيم حبالا تصل الداخل بالخارج
وتنقل مشاعر المخيّلة وتصوّرات الذهن
للكلمات المساعدة على التمسّك بالاستمرار
والانتقال بين الأحوال والأفكار
ثمانية جبال يصعدها الكاتب
الشكل بحكايته وروابطه وصوره وصيغه
والمعنى بدقائقه واستنباطه من الشكل ووضوحه واحتمالاته الغامضة
النفس المتدفقة الدافعة الملهمة التي تعلن عن طاقتها وتفعّل وجودها
الطبيعة ذاك العالم الحافل الذي يستوعبنا في جسده الكبير ونستوعبه في معجمنا الإشاري
الآخر الذي يشاركنا الآن والمكان واللسان ونسعى لتلامس روحي في أرض نعرفها بدرجة ما
الإنسان البعيد الذي لم نره ولم يرنا وستصله خريطة وجودنا الروحي بلغة أخرى في زمان ممتد
اللغة التي نطوّعها لصعودنا الوجودي بمشاعرنا وأفكارنا واكتشافاتنا الصغيرة
الجمال الذي يحركنا لإنجاز ذاتنا الكامنة العميقة الجارية كنهر خلف صخور الألفة
في العالم يكون لنا شيء نتعلّق به
شخص نجد وجودنا في لقائه
مكان مثل موضع في جبل سامق ممتد
يتساقط الوقت من أعلاه
من المستقبل ليحتضنه الماضي
كخزانة شعورية لعلاقتاتنا بالكون
نستدعيه وحدنا ونستقطر عبير تكويننا
فنستخلص عطر الحب من ذكرى حبيب
ونطلقه في خيط السرد العالق
بالقمة التي لا نعلم من وصل إليها
فكل الآثار التي ألقاها الصاعدون في الطريق
تنقطع بعد اختفاء أصحابها
حين يجدون الطريق نحو القمم
فكرة تذكّرني بمتون الأهرام للغيطاني
ونهاية مصطفى سعيد في موسم الهجرة إلى الشمال
لكن الأثر عند باولو كونيتي
يظل معلقا بحبل لم يمسه سوى اثنين
المقيم الذي عبر والعابر الذي أقام صديقه في في قلبه الشاهق
January 15, 2022
“We believe that at the center of the earth there is a tremendously high mountain, Sumeru. Around Sumeru there are eight mountains and eight seas. This is the world for us.”
A very subtle, quiet and meditative work of Italian contemporary fiction, The Eight Mountains won both Italy’s Premio Strega and the French Prix Médicis étranger prize.
It is a book for lovers of descriptive, but not overly lyrical nature-writing, and even though Ferrante’s writing does not revolve around nature, Cognetti has a writing style somewhat similar to her in strong, but not overwritten, simple, a bit withdrawn sentences. This is a book for readers who like to sink into a calm, reflective state while reading the melancholic book with vivid imagery, not a book for readers who read for plot and action-packed fast pacing.
The story is told through the first-person narration of the main character Pietro, a lonely boy from Milan. His parents are becoming more and more distant and the only thing that connects them as a family is their love for the mountains that surround Italy. Every summer they go to Italian Alps, and there Pietro forms a friendship with an adventurous local boy Bruno, a relationship that makes him feel less alone in an estranged family. A lot of the book is about coming of age and male friendship, but the determining factor in life and future for both Pietro and Bruno is their relationship with their fathers.
Bruno’s father sets Bruno's future by not allowing him to continue with his education, inevitably tying his fate with a mountain. And Pietro is haunted by their relationship with his father rest of his life in a notion similar to what Karl Ove Knausgård described in My Struggle: Book 1. Pietro’s father is an authoritarian, detached, irascible and rigid person, enamored with the solitude he finds through hiking, with who Pietro forms his relationship solely through exploring the mountains’ meadows and peaks. Pietro's father has some traits of schizoid personality structure and mountain climbing is the only way Pietro can get a glimpse of his father, and the only coldness of the mountain is the only place where the coldness of father melts and where Pietro can see his father as a warm and loving person.
“He was only partly the man that I knew, and partly another—the one that I was discovering through my mother’s letters. I was intrigued by this other side to him. It brought to mind a certain fragility that I had only glimpsed before, certain moments of confusion which he would immediately attempt to conceal. When I would lean out over a rock and he would instinctively make a grab for my trouser belt. When I was sick on the glacier and he would be more worried about it than I was myself. It occurred to me that perhaps this other father had always been there at my side, and that I had failed to notice him, however difficult the first one was; and I began to think that in the future I should—or could—make an attempt to build bridges with him.”
After his father's death, he becomes even more attached to the mountains, spreading his trips around the world, on the great eight peaks. For Pietro, who becomes unable to form a warm loving relationship with a woman, mountains become the symbol of consolation and love, the only source through which he can connect with his father and the medium to get to the place in himself he finds tolerable. His bond to nature tightens as his fate is inescapably tied to the fate of his father, and therefore to the mountains.
"And I knew once and for all that I had two fathers: the first had been the stranger with whom I had lived for twenty years in the city, and then burnt my bridges with for another ten; the second was my father as he was in the mountains, the one I had only glimpsed but still knew better than the first: the man who walked behind me on the paths, the lover of glaciers. This other father had left me a ruin to rebuild. So I decided to forget all about the first, and to complete that work to remember him by.”
In a quest for better understanding and connecting to the father after his death, Pietro becomes his mirror image. A lot of underlying themes have to do with the great importance of which the psychological functioning of our parents has on our lives, as we are on one hand set to repeat their emotional patterns. Like his father, Piero becomes a stubborn man, unable to freely express his emotions, and his feelings are inseparably entailed to the mountains, as he can conduct conversations with his soul only in mountain massifs. Sometimes, a man can only find himself in the solitude of nature.
“The lake was a nocturnal sky in motion; the wind was pushing flurries of small waves from one side to another, and as it changed direction it extinguished and rekindled along its lines of force the gleams of stars reflected in the black water. I stood still, watching these patterns. It seemed to me to recall the life of the mountain before mankind. I did not disturb it; I was a welcome guest. I realized again that in this company I would never be alone.”
The influence of the philosphy of transcendentalism is also evident but Cognetti has done an interesting thing in the characterization of the main figures of the story. The portrait of the characters is almost completely done through learning about the quality of relationship that characters have with nature, and the mountain is oftentimes a bridge and the point of connection of our protagonists. The reflection on nature is used to dive into the introspection and learn about the desires, fears, longing and motives of characters. The restrained voice of the first person narration correlates perfectly with the personality traits of the main character. The psychological profile of the characters is intentionally unfinished because there is a lot of emotional distancing and inability to express emotions in the characters and it determines the fact we can’t explore them outside the mountain, the only point of their partial opening to feelings. That is why the narrative is a bit disjointed, as characters don't exist to a reader when they are not under the auspices of the mountains.
Exploring the meaning of the intricate relationship of men with nature, Cognetti created a heartwarming story. I don't know to which extent is the story autobiographical, but Cognetti himself has a strong bond with mountains and as the main character of the story, spends his time in between the city and his residence in Italian Alps.
Recommended to misfits, loners, individualists, transcendentalists and lovers of mountains.
A very subtle, quiet and meditative work of Italian contemporary fiction, The Eight Mountains won both Italy’s Premio Strega and the French Prix Médicis étranger prize.
It is a book for lovers of descriptive, but not overly lyrical nature-writing, and even though Ferrante’s writing does not revolve around nature, Cognetti has a writing style somewhat similar to her in strong, but not overwritten, simple, a bit withdrawn sentences. This is a book for readers who like to sink into a calm, reflective state while reading the melancholic book with vivid imagery, not a book for readers who read for plot and action-packed fast pacing.
The story is told through the first-person narration of the main character Pietro, a lonely boy from Milan. His parents are becoming more and more distant and the only thing that connects them as a family is their love for the mountains that surround Italy. Every summer they go to Italian Alps, and there Pietro forms a friendship with an adventurous local boy Bruno, a relationship that makes him feel less alone in an estranged family. A lot of the book is about coming of age and male friendship, but the determining factor in life and future for both Pietro and Bruno is their relationship with their fathers.
Bruno’s father sets Bruno's future by not allowing him to continue with his education, inevitably tying his fate with a mountain. And Pietro is haunted by their relationship with his father rest of his life in a notion similar to what Karl Ove Knausgård described in My Struggle: Book 1. Pietro’s father is an authoritarian, detached, irascible and rigid person, enamored with the solitude he finds through hiking, with who Pietro forms his relationship solely through exploring the mountains’ meadows and peaks. Pietro's father has some traits of schizoid personality structure and mountain climbing is the only way Pietro can get a glimpse of his father, and the only coldness of the mountain is the only place where the coldness of father melts and where Pietro can see his father as a warm and loving person.
“He was only partly the man that I knew, and partly another—the one that I was discovering through my mother’s letters. I was intrigued by this other side to him. It brought to mind a certain fragility that I had only glimpsed before, certain moments of confusion which he would immediately attempt to conceal. When I would lean out over a rock and he would instinctively make a grab for my trouser belt. When I was sick on the glacier and he would be more worried about it than I was myself. It occurred to me that perhaps this other father had always been there at my side, and that I had failed to notice him, however difficult the first one was; and I began to think that in the future I should—or could—make an attempt to build bridges with him.”
After his father's death, he becomes even more attached to the mountains, spreading his trips around the world, on the great eight peaks. For Pietro, who becomes unable to form a warm loving relationship with a woman, mountains become the symbol of consolation and love, the only source through which he can connect with his father and the medium to get to the place in himself he finds tolerable. His bond to nature tightens as his fate is inescapably tied to the fate of his father, and therefore to the mountains.
"And I knew once and for all that I had two fathers: the first had been the stranger with whom I had lived for twenty years in the city, and then burnt my bridges with for another ten; the second was my father as he was in the mountains, the one I had only glimpsed but still knew better than the first: the man who walked behind me on the paths, the lover of glaciers. This other father had left me a ruin to rebuild. So I decided to forget all about the first, and to complete that work to remember him by.”
In a quest for better understanding and connecting to the father after his death, Pietro becomes his mirror image. A lot of underlying themes have to do with the great importance of which the psychological functioning of our parents has on our lives, as we are on one hand set to repeat their emotional patterns. Like his father, Piero becomes a stubborn man, unable to freely express his emotions, and his feelings are inseparably entailed to the mountains, as he can conduct conversations with his soul only in mountain massifs. Sometimes, a man can only find himself in the solitude of nature.
“The lake was a nocturnal sky in motion; the wind was pushing flurries of small waves from one side to another, and as it changed direction it extinguished and rekindled along its lines of force the gleams of stars reflected in the black water. I stood still, watching these patterns. It seemed to me to recall the life of the mountain before mankind. I did not disturb it; I was a welcome guest. I realized again that in this company I would never be alone.”
The influence of the philosphy of transcendentalism is also evident but Cognetti has done an interesting thing in the characterization of the main figures of the story. The portrait of the characters is almost completely done through learning about the quality of relationship that characters have with nature, and the mountain is oftentimes a bridge and the point of connection of our protagonists. The reflection on nature is used to dive into the introspection and learn about the desires, fears, longing and motives of characters. The restrained voice of the first person narration correlates perfectly with the personality traits of the main character. The psychological profile of the characters is intentionally unfinished because there is a lot of emotional distancing and inability to express emotions in the characters and it determines the fact we can’t explore them outside the mountain, the only point of their partial opening to feelings. That is why the narrative is a bit disjointed, as characters don't exist to a reader when they are not under the auspices of the mountains.
Exploring the meaning of the intricate relationship of men with nature, Cognetti created a heartwarming story. I don't know to which extent is the story autobiographical, but Cognetti himself has a strong bond with mountains and as the main character of the story, spends his time in between the city and his residence in Italian Alps.
Recommended to misfits, loners, individualists, transcendentalists and lovers of mountains.
January 16, 2022
“ Sometimes I forget what living's for
And I hear my life through my front door
And I'll breathe it in
Oh I'm home again
"All the empty disappears
I remember why I'm here
Just surrender and believe
I fall down on my knees
Oh hello world
Hello world
Hello world”
-- “Hello World” – Lyrics by Tom Douglas, Tony Lane, David Lee
Pietro’s father, an orphan of the war, would seem to never take in the world around him when he climbed the mountains, he was more concerned with achieving some unspoken, unknown goal. When he was old enough to climb the mountains with his father, he was rarely alongside him. A mountain was a goal to be achieved, a notch on his belt. No whining, no complaining. If he saw someone up ahead, his pace quickened with the goal of overtaking them.
His mother liked to say that it was only her strong legs that had brought them together, had seduced him. She liked to soak it all in, the vistas that went beyond a single point of focus ahead.
A priest had once taken them up into the mountains when they were still young, and that same priest would, in turn, marry them many years later on a lovely morning in October of 1972. An autumnal wedding, in front of a chapel at the foot of the Tre Cime di Lavaredo. In a sense, he was there, a silent, unseeing witness to the beatings of her heart.
The next day, they headed for a new life in Milan, the two of them, soon to be three.
It is in the mountains of Pietro’s childhood, that he befriends Bruno, a boy who lives nearby. A boy his mother had wanted to take under her, their, wing. She wished for him to have a childhood that included attending school rather than herding cows. And so Bruno becomes a fixture in their lives. A friendship that will see years pass with little contact, yet a lifelong friendship takes root.
This tale of lives intertwined, each one with unique, perhaps with even somewhat stubbornly held, views but nevertheless there is that bond that keeps it from unraveling completely. Beautiful in its simplicity, the writing reflects this ease in this ode to a friendship, an ode to the beauty of the mountains, to this life, and even to the gifts received through the love our parents instilled in us of a simpler way of life.
An ode to life.
Published: 20 Mar 2018
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Atria Books
November 14, 2019
Lamberto Dini è bruttissimo. Dice: sì, ma si veste bene. Porca puttana, brutto com’è ci mancherebbe altro che si vestisse male.
Paolo Hendel
Ognuno ha i maestri che si merita e io, sia detto senza falsa modestia, Paolo Hendel me lo merito tutto. Così, mentre leggevo Le otto montagne, riflettevo sul pensiero dell’istrione fiorentino e lo malleavo alla bisogna: che sia, questo libro, equivalente letterario del succitato dirigente d’azienda, economista e politico italiano (fonte: Wikipedia) dai lineamenti non così gradevoli ma che, tuttavia, indossa capi di pregevole fattura? Per rispondere a tale domanda, c’è bisogno di uscir di metafora e affrontare la vexata quaestio che tanto fa tribolare i critici più scafati: si può scrivere bene una brutta storia? E, specularmente, si può scrivere male un bel romanzo?
Partendo dalla fine, direi che la risposta all’ultima domanda non può che essere negativa. Non esiste un bel romanzo scritto male perché la buona scrittura – le parole, le frasi, lo stile, il tono, il suono, le virgole, etc. - è condizione necessaria per raccontare una storia. Non può esistere una bella casa costruita male, perché mi casca sulla testa. Non può esistere un bel piatto cucinato male, perché non riesco a mandarlo giù. Non può esistere un bel libro scritto male, perché non riesco a leggerlo. Quindi, se un libro è scritto male, allora è un brutto libro. A prescindere da quello che vorrebbe raccontare, perché se è scritto male io non ci capisco niente, mi stanco, e invece di leggere vado a fare una passeggiata. Fermato ciò, il passo per rispondere alla prima domanda – si può scrivere bene una brutta storia? - è breve: se è vero che la buona scrittura è condizione necessaria per un buon romanzo, è altrettanto vero che non è condizione sufficiente. Una casa costruita bene non per forza è una bella casa, un piatto cucinato bene non per forza è un bel piatto (mi sto incartando con le metafore, bisogna che mi dia una calmata), e così un romanzo scritto bene non è per forza un buon romanzo.
Con un po’ di sudore sulla fronte, sono arrivato dove pressappoco volevo arrivare, e cioè a dire che Le otto montagne sono come Lamberto Dini, un libro bruttissimo. Dice: sì, ma è scritto bene. Porca puttana, brutto com’è ci mancherebbe altro che fosse scritto male. Anzi, a dirla tutta, il fatto che sia scritto bene è un’aggravante. Tutte quelle belle parole, quelle frasi che scorrono, il gergo montanaro così preciso, le descrizioni da far impazzire zia Savina, leggete un po’:
Solo un oggetto si riscattava dalla mediocrità ed era una stufa nera, di ghisa, massiccia e severa, con la maniglia di ottone e quattro fuochi su cui cucinare.
Io non sono mica buono a fare frasi del genere. Se avessi dovuto dire io, quella roba là, avrei scritto c’era una stufa. Anzi, nemmeno l’avrei detto, io le stufe nemmeno le colgo, tantomeno massicce e severe. Una stufa severa. Vedi come fa rigare dritto i fuochi, la stufa severa. A casa mia c’ho la stufa anarcomollacciona: i fuochi fanno quel che gli pare a loro. Quello medio, in basso a sinistra, per tenerlo acceso bisogna fargli le moine, anche se mia moglie dice che va solo con un colpo secco. Io non ci credo, io sono per la persuasione, non sono severo come la stufa di Cognetti. Quello grande, per la pentola dell’acqua, non conosce mezze misure: o pompa al massimo oppure si spegne, offeso, con la conseguenza che per fare una pastasciutta servono sette metri cubi di gas. Comunque, la frase di Cognetti è davvero bella. Ci sono un sacco di frasi così e il rimpianto mio è quello solito: non avere la Smemoranda per segnarle tutte e farle leggere alla compagna di banco facendo la faccia di chi la sa lunga.
Ma comunque, dicevo dell’aggravante. Cognetti scrive bene, davvero bene, e ogni frase è un invito a proseguire. Solo che… solo che… solo che racconta una storiella banale, noiosa, un soggetto buono per una fiction su Rai Uno, in prima serata, mentre noi scafati guardiamo Trapped in streaming (;-)). L’insieme di segni di interpunzione appena superato sarebbe il tentativo non so quanto riuscito di mettere una faccina con occhiolino tra parentesi. C’è l’ambientazione montanara (a proposito della fiction, farebbe un figurone la scritta con il patrocinio dell’amministrazione comunale di...), ci sono lunghe passeggiate, ci sono persone che parlano poco e poi si sciolgono davanti a un buon bicchiere di vino. C’è la storia di un’amicizia tra bambini/adolescenti che sembra scritta da uno che da bambino/adolescente non abbia mai avuto un amico, montanaro o no. Ci sono vite che vanno avanti come nel peggior incubo andreadecarliano: gente che legge Hemingway (mannaggia! Hemingway! Io la gente che legge Hemingway l’ho conosciuta solo nei romanzi), va in Nepal, fa documentari sulle popolazioni dell’Himalaya che mentre lo leggi ti immagini Jovanotti che sorride compiaciuto mentre sottolinea quel passo. Poi c’è gente che è nata in montagna e dalla montagna non può andare via, costruisce case a gratis tutto a mano, tipo MacGyver, non parla, pascola le mucche (che parli con le mucche, tipo i personaggi di Garcia Marquez sì mirabilmente berlinati da Efraim Medina Reyes?) e altre amenità simili.
Io andrei avanti a parlare di Cognetti, otto montagne, Jovanotti, Andrea De Carlo e cose del genere, ma la mia bimba domenica ha il saggio di ginnastica e ho promesso che la portavo da Decathlon a comprare le calze apposta, che sarebbero quelle che non si vede la cucitura nel sedere, o qualcosa di simile. Va a finire che torno con la canotta di LeBron James.
Ma soprattutto, la ginnastica si fa con le calze?
Paolo Hendel
Ognuno ha i maestri che si merita e io, sia detto senza falsa modestia, Paolo Hendel me lo merito tutto. Così, mentre leggevo Le otto montagne, riflettevo sul pensiero dell’istrione fiorentino e lo malleavo alla bisogna: che sia, questo libro, equivalente letterario del succitato dirigente d’azienda, economista e politico italiano (fonte: Wikipedia) dai lineamenti non così gradevoli ma che, tuttavia, indossa capi di pregevole fattura? Per rispondere a tale domanda, c’è bisogno di uscir di metafora e affrontare la vexata quaestio che tanto fa tribolare i critici più scafati: si può scrivere bene una brutta storia? E, specularmente, si può scrivere male un bel romanzo?
Partendo dalla fine, direi che la risposta all’ultima domanda non può che essere negativa. Non esiste un bel romanzo scritto male perché la buona scrittura – le parole, le frasi, lo stile, il tono, il suono, le virgole, etc. - è condizione necessaria per raccontare una storia. Non può esistere una bella casa costruita male, perché mi casca sulla testa. Non può esistere un bel piatto cucinato male, perché non riesco a mandarlo giù. Non può esistere un bel libro scritto male, perché non riesco a leggerlo. Quindi, se un libro è scritto male, allora è un brutto libro. A prescindere da quello che vorrebbe raccontare, perché se è scritto male io non ci capisco niente, mi stanco, e invece di leggere vado a fare una passeggiata. Fermato ciò, il passo per rispondere alla prima domanda – si può scrivere bene una brutta storia? - è breve: se è vero che la buona scrittura è condizione necessaria per un buon romanzo, è altrettanto vero che non è condizione sufficiente. Una casa costruita bene non per forza è una bella casa, un piatto cucinato bene non per forza è un bel piatto (mi sto incartando con le metafore, bisogna che mi dia una calmata), e così un romanzo scritto bene non è per forza un buon romanzo.
Con un po’ di sudore sulla fronte, sono arrivato dove pressappoco volevo arrivare, e cioè a dire che Le otto montagne sono come Lamberto Dini, un libro bruttissimo. Dice: sì, ma è scritto bene. Porca puttana, brutto com’è ci mancherebbe altro che fosse scritto male. Anzi, a dirla tutta, il fatto che sia scritto bene è un’aggravante. Tutte quelle belle parole, quelle frasi che scorrono, il gergo montanaro così preciso, le descrizioni da far impazzire zia Savina, leggete un po’:
Solo un oggetto si riscattava dalla mediocrità ed era una stufa nera, di ghisa, massiccia e severa, con la maniglia di ottone e quattro fuochi su cui cucinare.
Io non sono mica buono a fare frasi del genere. Se avessi dovuto dire io, quella roba là, avrei scritto c’era una stufa. Anzi, nemmeno l’avrei detto, io le stufe nemmeno le colgo, tantomeno massicce e severe. Una stufa severa. Vedi come fa rigare dritto i fuochi, la stufa severa. A casa mia c’ho la stufa anarcomollacciona: i fuochi fanno quel che gli pare a loro. Quello medio, in basso a sinistra, per tenerlo acceso bisogna fargli le moine, anche se mia moglie dice che va solo con un colpo secco. Io non ci credo, io sono per la persuasione, non sono severo come la stufa di Cognetti. Quello grande, per la pentola dell’acqua, non conosce mezze misure: o pompa al massimo oppure si spegne, offeso, con la conseguenza che per fare una pastasciutta servono sette metri cubi di gas. Comunque, la frase di Cognetti è davvero bella. Ci sono un sacco di frasi così e il rimpianto mio è quello solito: non avere la Smemoranda per segnarle tutte e farle leggere alla compagna di banco facendo la faccia di chi la sa lunga.
Ma comunque, dicevo dell’aggravante. Cognetti scrive bene, davvero bene, e ogni frase è un invito a proseguire. Solo che… solo che… solo che racconta una storiella banale, noiosa, un soggetto buono per una fiction su Rai Uno, in prima serata, mentre noi scafati guardiamo Trapped in streaming (;-)). L’insieme di segni di interpunzione appena superato sarebbe il tentativo non so quanto riuscito di mettere una faccina con occhiolino tra parentesi. C’è l’ambientazione montanara (a proposito della fiction, farebbe un figurone la scritta con il patrocinio dell’amministrazione comunale di...), ci sono lunghe passeggiate, ci sono persone che parlano poco e poi si sciolgono davanti a un buon bicchiere di vino. C’è la storia di un’amicizia tra bambini/adolescenti che sembra scritta da uno che da bambino/adolescente non abbia mai avuto un amico, montanaro o no. Ci sono vite che vanno avanti come nel peggior incubo andreadecarliano: gente che legge Hemingway (mannaggia! Hemingway! Io la gente che legge Hemingway l’ho conosciuta solo nei romanzi), va in Nepal, fa documentari sulle popolazioni dell’Himalaya che mentre lo leggi ti immagini Jovanotti che sorride compiaciuto mentre sottolinea quel passo. Poi c’è gente che è nata in montagna e dalla montagna non può andare via, costruisce case a gratis tutto a mano, tipo MacGyver, non parla, pascola le mucche (che parli con le mucche, tipo i personaggi di Garcia Marquez sì mirabilmente berlinati da Efraim Medina Reyes?) e altre amenità simili.
Io andrei avanti a parlare di Cognetti, otto montagne, Jovanotti, Andrea De Carlo e cose del genere, ma la mia bimba domenica ha il saggio di ginnastica e ho promesso che la portavo da Decathlon a comprare le calze apposta, che sarebbero quelle che non si vede la cucitura nel sedere, o qualcosa di simile. Va a finire che torno con la canotta di LeBron James.
Ma soprattutto, la ginnastica si fa con le calze?
March 29, 2018
5 stars to the enchanting and quietly-written, The Eight Mountains! ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
Pietro and his parents are from the metropolitan city of Milan, and they vacation in the Dolomites of Italy in a remote village. Pietro’s father is consumed with climbing the tallest peaks, which is difficult for Pietro to understand. While in the shadow of his father, he forms a friendship with Bruno, another child from the village.
Over time, the mountains and his friendship with the steadfast Bruno help to keep Pietro grounded. His life experiences many changes, but the mountains and Bruno are always there for him, unwavering.
Cognetti’s prose, even through translation, is alluring. The mountains themselves become a character in the novel with symbolism to be deciphered.
A story of friendship and family relationships in a glorious alpine setting, The Eight Mountains is a quiet book worthy of a re-read and more reflection.
This book came highly recommended by my friends, Cheri and Angela M. Thank you both for an unforgettable read!
For this and other Traveling Sister Reviews, please visit Brenda and Norma’s fabulous blog: https://twosisterslostinacoulee.com
Thank you to Paolo Cognetti, Atria, and Netgalley for the ARC.
Pietro and his parents are from the metropolitan city of Milan, and they vacation in the Dolomites of Italy in a remote village. Pietro’s father is consumed with climbing the tallest peaks, which is difficult for Pietro to understand. While in the shadow of his father, he forms a friendship with Bruno, another child from the village.
Over time, the mountains and his friendship with the steadfast Bruno help to keep Pietro grounded. His life experiences many changes, but the mountains and Bruno are always there for him, unwavering.
Cognetti’s prose, even through translation, is alluring. The mountains themselves become a character in the novel with symbolism to be deciphered.
A story of friendship and family relationships in a glorious alpine setting, The Eight Mountains is a quiet book worthy of a re-read and more reflection.
This book came highly recommended by my friends, Cheri and Angela M. Thank you both for an unforgettable read!
For this and other Traveling Sister Reviews, please visit Brenda and Norma’s fabulous blog: https://twosisterslostinacoulee.com
Thank you to Paolo Cognetti, Atria, and Netgalley for the ARC.
April 26, 2023
L'UNITÀ PRIMORDIALE DEI DISSIMILI
L'impressione che ho avuto leggendo questo romanzo è stata quella di rileggere Pavese in un contesto non più situato nelle Langhe, ma nelle montagne del Nord Italia. E questo lo dico perché apprezzo molto Pavese, così come ho apprezzato moltissimo Cognetti.
La trama è semplice e simbolica, come l'immagine delle otto montagne, a significare le scelta fatta da chi scappa costantemente da una condizione di stabilità (di per sé ideale ed impossibile da raggiungere) contro la scelta di chi, invece, decide ostinatamente di rimanere immobile.
Due modi di vivere incarnati dai due protagonisti del romanzo, Pietro e l'amico Bruno, descritti con grande sensibilità e attenzione per la loro psicologia. Il rapporto con la montagna e con la natura in generale viene descritto in parallelo al rapporto con i genitori, in una reiterazione di dualità relazionali che, pur polarizzati, non possono fare a meno di venirsi incontro e convivere.
Perché così è la vita: siamo dissimili, addirittura antipodici, ma uniti da un'umanità di fondo e da una primordiale e direi imprescindibile appartenenza alla natura.
L'impressione che ho avuto leggendo questo romanzo è stata quella di rileggere Pavese in un contesto non più situato nelle Langhe, ma nelle montagne del Nord Italia. E questo lo dico perché apprezzo molto Pavese, così come ho apprezzato moltissimo Cognetti.
La trama è semplice e simbolica, come l'immagine delle otto montagne, a significare le scelta fatta da chi scappa costantemente da una condizione di stabilità (di per sé ideale ed impossibile da raggiungere) contro la scelta di chi, invece, decide ostinatamente di rimanere immobile.
Due modi di vivere incarnati dai due protagonisti del romanzo, Pietro e l'amico Bruno, descritti con grande sensibilità e attenzione per la loro psicologia. Il rapporto con la montagna e con la natura in generale viene descritto in parallelo al rapporto con i genitori, in una reiterazione di dualità relazionali che, pur polarizzati, non possono fare a meno di venirsi incontro e convivere.
Perché così è la vita: siamo dissimili, addirittura antipodici, ma uniti da un'umanità di fondo e da una primordiale e direi imprescindibile appartenenza alla natura.
February 27, 2020
Harmony
Paolo Cognetti has written a pleasant story of family, lifelong friendship and an insight into the Alps region, particularly around Monte Rosa. The two aspects of friendship and landscape, are always present throughout the book in an enduring partnership.
The main storyline is the lifelong undiminished friendship between Pietro and Bruno. They first meet at the age of thirteen when Pietro’s family visit Grana village as summer residents. Bruno is a likeable teenager, open, respectful and appreciative. With no great family support, he is invited into Pietro's family circle. Pietro’s mother educates him to read and write, his father takes him on hikes into the mountain and the two boys become like brothers.
The friendship isn’t intense but it is genuine and unshakeable. Through the years Pietro tends to go off travelling around the world spending the majority of time in the Himalayas and when he returns the friendship resumes as normal. It is one of those friendships that have no prejudices, no judgements and no egotism. Bruno lives his whole life in Grana and the surrounding mountains. As the years' progress, he becomes more and more remote from society, living in a cabin high in the mountains until deep winter drives him down to the village. This change in his character is really well portrayed and there is a vulnerability about Bruno regardless of his robust and capable physique.
The other facet of the book is the vivid imagery of a region in the Alps where eight mountains circle a specific location like 'the spokes of a wheel'. I used Google street view to remotely walk some of the paths around Monte Rosa and the Matterhorn and it’s just awesome. I have always loved hiking and I know the feeling of reaching a summit, where the sudden vista is just spectacular. To just stand perfectly still, trying not to allow your breathing to interrupt the moment. It can be emotional because you have committed a lot of effort and the overwhelming panoramic view is a personal sense of achievement. There is also the appreciation of just how small you are in the immense surrounding and majesty of nature. Unfortunately, I didn’t get enough of that sense of wonderment or appeal from Pietro’s journeys, yet they were in the Alps.
There is a quote from Pietro’s father relating to the grandeur of the Alps compared with other mountain ranges, it’s like
I have to say that I enjoyed the book and would recommend it, especially if the Alps region is of interest but it did lack a passionate edge from Pietro. All the relationship interactions were very safe and while events happened in their lives, they were dealt with as a matter of fact with no real examination. The father expressed his love for the Alps quite well but Pietro who tells the story seems to have a lacklustre sense of describing his thoughts and feelings. Where was your passion, Pietro?
A nice break from more typical genres to enjoy an inspiring landscape and friendship story. Many thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing and NetGalley, for an ARC version of the book in return for an honest review.
Paolo Cognetti has written a pleasant story of family, lifelong friendship and an insight into the Alps region, particularly around Monte Rosa. The two aspects of friendship and landscape, are always present throughout the book in an enduring partnership.
The main storyline is the lifelong undiminished friendship between Pietro and Bruno. They first meet at the age of thirteen when Pietro’s family visit Grana village as summer residents. Bruno is a likeable teenager, open, respectful and appreciative. With no great family support, he is invited into Pietro's family circle. Pietro’s mother educates him to read and write, his father takes him on hikes into the mountain and the two boys become like brothers.
The friendship isn’t intense but it is genuine and unshakeable. Through the years Pietro tends to go off travelling around the world spending the majority of time in the Himalayas and when he returns the friendship resumes as normal. It is one of those friendships that have no prejudices, no judgements and no egotism. Bruno lives his whole life in Grana and the surrounding mountains. As the years' progress, he becomes more and more remote from society, living in a cabin high in the mountains until deep winter drives him down to the village. This change in his character is really well portrayed and there is a vulnerability about Bruno regardless of his robust and capable physique.
The other facet of the book is the vivid imagery of a region in the Alps where eight mountains circle a specific location like 'the spokes of a wheel'. I used Google street view to remotely walk some of the paths around Monte Rosa and the Matterhorn and it’s just awesome. I have always loved hiking and I know the feeling of reaching a summit, where the sudden vista is just spectacular. To just stand perfectly still, trying not to allow your breathing to interrupt the moment. It can be emotional because you have committed a lot of effort and the overwhelming panoramic view is a personal sense of achievement. There is also the appreciation of just how small you are in the immense surrounding and majesty of nature. Unfortunately, I didn’t get enough of that sense of wonderment or appeal from Pietro’s journeys, yet they were in the Alps.
There is a quote from Pietro’s father relating to the grandeur of the Alps compared with other mountain ranges, it’s like
“arriving from the mountains of men to find yourself in the mountains of giants. And naturally, he fell in love with them at first sight.”
I have to say that I enjoyed the book and would recommend it, especially if the Alps region is of interest but it did lack a passionate edge from Pietro. All the relationship interactions were very safe and while events happened in their lives, they were dealt with as a matter of fact with no real examination. The father expressed his love for the Alps quite well but Pietro who tells the story seems to have a lacklustre sense of describing his thoughts and feelings. Where was your passion, Pietro?
A nice break from more typical genres to enjoy an inspiring landscape and friendship story. Many thanks to Random House UK, Vintage Publishing and NetGalley, for an ARC version of the book in return for an honest review.
April 1, 2018
A beautiful, contemplative toned novel, about the relationships between father's and sons, and the friendship between two very different boys. Piedro is even when his family takes a holiday cottage at the foot of Italy's Grand Rosa Mountain. His father has a love of mountains, their paths, hiking through different passages and seeing what he can find, experiencing nature. An experience Piedro does not cherish as much as his father, which will eventually become a fissure in their relationship. Piedro meets Bruno, a boy who herds cows, his mother a true mountain woman, s father with whom he will have his own difficulties.
So many books about mother, daughter relationships, female friendships, it was a welcome relief to come upon a book that featured male relationships. Gorgeous and lengthy descriptions of mountains, touching scenes between friends as they grow older and try to find x new way to define their friendship. Bruno, staying put in the mountains he has made his home, and Piedro, who wants to explore other areas, do different things. The fracture between both fathers and sons and the reason for these. A touching, quiet book, but one that quietly weaved its way into my heart.
ARC from Edelweiss.
So many books about mother, daughter relationships, female friendships, it was a welcome relief to come upon a book that featured male relationships. Gorgeous and lengthy descriptions of mountains, touching scenes between friends as they grow older and try to find x new way to define their friendship. Bruno, staying put in the mountains he has made his home, and Piedro, who wants to explore other areas, do different things. The fracture between both fathers and sons and the reason for these. A touching, quiet book, but one that quietly weaved its way into my heart.
ARC from Edelweiss.
December 17, 2017
L'altro giorno in metropolitana ho pensato che se un libro mi fa dimenticare dove sono (e non è facile) dopo neanche una fermata merita cinque stelle.
E' sicuramente un giudizio dato a caldo, magari d'impulso, ma sono di parte, amo la montagna, amo quei luoghi e questo libro mi ha fatto stare bene.
Non aggiungo molto altro, sapevo già che la scrittura di Cognetti mi piace molto, e la casina in mezzo alla neve da raggiungere dopo ore da camminata è in un angolo della mia mente, serve per riposarmi quando non ne posso più del grigio uggioso della città, della folla, dell'ansia.
E' sicuramente un giudizio dato a caldo, magari d'impulso, ma sono di parte, amo la montagna, amo quei luoghi e questo libro mi ha fatto stare bene.
Non aggiungo molto altro, sapevo già che la scrittura di Cognetti mi piace molto, e la casina in mezzo alla neve da raggiungere dopo ore da camminata è in un angolo della mia mente, serve per riposarmi quando non ne posso più del grigio uggioso della città, della folla, dell'ansia.
April 1, 2021
Well written but The Eight Mountains didn't hit the heart for me
The good...
I found the first part of this book really strong in conjuring the feeling of youth, the slow passing of time in relation to the uncertainty (and freedom) of not knowing where to go. It gave me a sense of melancholy to my own childhood.
The childhood of the main character, and in the end the life long friendship between Bruno and the narrator, is also beautifully told. In that sense the book reminds me of A Home at the End of the World of Michael Cunningham.
The nature and environment depiction in The Eight Mountains is very strong as well: I wanted to start rock climbing, live more simple and go to the alps by reading this book, a rare experience.
...and the less good
The pacing of the book, zooming in on little events and zooming out (and sometimes killing characters off) in a few pages unsettled me a bit while reading. Also the last part of the book I found less compelling. Not much really happens, its a kind of a slow car crash you and the narrator just witness, while he was so sharp and relentless in relation to the observations of his parents behaviour earlier. The main character himself didn't, for me, really felt there and present in this part of the book, with his unnamed girlfriends, fleeting observations on Nepal and seemingly no internal reflection on what is unfolding around him.
What also struck me about the end is that it all felt a bit overtly hipster to me, with "find yourself trips" to Nepal, revolts against “normal” society, organically farming on a godforsaken mountain; it felt a bit doctored and deterred from the pureness of the first section.
All in all this book feels a bit overhyped despite the strong start: three stars.
The good...
I found the first part of this book really strong in conjuring the feeling of youth, the slow passing of time in relation to the uncertainty (and freedom) of not knowing where to go. It gave me a sense of melancholy to my own childhood.
The childhood of the main character, and in the end the life long friendship between Bruno and the narrator, is also beautifully told. In that sense the book reminds me of A Home at the End of the World of Michael Cunningham.
The nature and environment depiction in The Eight Mountains is very strong as well: I wanted to start rock climbing, live more simple and go to the alps by reading this book, a rare experience.
...and the less good
The pacing of the book, zooming in on little events and zooming out (and sometimes killing characters off) in a few pages unsettled me a bit while reading. Also the last part of the book I found less compelling. Not much really happens, its a kind of a slow car crash you and the narrator just witness, while he was so sharp and relentless in relation to the observations of his parents behaviour earlier. The main character himself didn't, for me, really felt there and present in this part of the book, with his unnamed girlfriends, fleeting observations on Nepal and seemingly no internal reflection on what is unfolding around him.
What also struck me about the end is that it all felt a bit overtly hipster to me, with "find yourself trips" to Nepal, revolts against “normal” society, organically farming on a godforsaken mountain; it felt a bit doctored and deterred from the pureness of the first section.
All in all this book feels a bit overhyped despite the strong start: three stars.
August 7, 2017
Padri e figli
Una storia di padri, di figli, di amicizia e di montagne.
Un padre autoritario e indifferente che si incammina instancabile per i sentieri montani cercando di raggiungere in ogni modo la vetta, anche lontana. Forse per dimenticare i problemi che ci sono al piano, a casa, in città.
Un figlio, Pietro e un amico, Bruno, così diversi: Pietro cittadino, silenzioso e spinto dal padre verso le montagne e Bruno, montanaro di nascita, genitori assenti. Sono figli di due mondi agli antipodi, uno immerso nel caos cittadino e l'altro nella rarefazione montana. Uno è instabile, non sa quello che vuole e gira il mondo. L'altro non sa ciò che vuole ma è troppo piantato nel luogo dove è nato. L'unico punto in comune è la loro amicizia.
E poi la montagna, aspra, affascinante, dura, faticosa; un luogo silenzioso e rarefatto dove il tempo rallenta consentendoci di riflettere sulla nostra vita, sull'amicizia, sull'amore, sulle cose importanti.
Pietro gira il mondo, mentre Bruno rimane. Ma il rapporto tra i due rimane inalterato e quando Pietro ritorna, il passato riaffiora. I rituali ripetuti ravvivano il senso di appartenenza alla vita:
"Un uomo con due grandi baffi bianchi mi raccontò che per lui era un modo per ripensare alla sua vita. Era come se, attaccando lo stesso vecchio sentiero una volta all'anno, si addentrasse tra i ricordi e risalisse il corso della propria vita"
Pietro, il cui rapporto col padre era difficoltoso fintanto questi era in vita, inizia a capire il genitore solo dopo la sua morte, percorrendone i sentieri, addentrandosi nei ricordi. Un padre severo ma fragile, incapace di affrontare un discorso col figlio, imperfetto ma anche per questo umano. Un padre abbandonato, ma poi, in un secondo tempo e troppo tardi riconosciuto e valorizzato.
Sarà perché ho trascorso lunghi periodi in montagna, nell'infanzia, tra Catinaccio e Cime di Lavaredo. O che ho passato la vita combattendo con un padre autoritario, testardo e poco propenso ai rapporti umani; un padre che ho iniziato a capire solo troppo tardi, dopo l'inevitabile separazione. Sarà per tutto questo che la storia raccontata in questo bel libro mi ha colpito e affondato.
Il romanzo è scritto benissimo. Nessuna forzatura, nessuna violenza, nessun cellulare, nessuna parolaccia, niente sesso, nessuna concessione al linguaggio "odierno", niente citazioni o riferimenti colti. Solo una storia semplice, profonda, malinconica, raccontata con intelligenza. Solo?
July 31, 2018
You might say this is a novel about men who are rubbish with women. The narrator, his father and his childhood friend, the three main protagonists, all prefer mountains to women. There's something ruggedly masculine about mountains - the solitude and absence of domestic comforts, the demands they make on physical strength and endurance. It's perhaps one of the places men go to prove to themselves they are men.
The most poignant part of this book for me was the narrator's troubled relationship with his father. This was very moving. I was sorry it was dropped half way through in favour of re-establishing the childhood friendship as adults which I found altogether less compelling and convincing. As a novel it veered close to sentimentality at times. I wasn't entirely convinced two men could be content together in a single room far removed from every vestige of civilisation. I kept thinking one of them must be gay. But the author was determined to keep namedropping girlfriends even though, bar one, these girls made no appearance in the book. Surely to share a room in the mountains is an oxymoron? Claustrophobia in deep space.
There's a lot of description of mountainous terrain. Too much for my liking. But then I'm not a great fan of mountains. I prefer hills.
The most poignant part of this book for me was the narrator's troubled relationship with his father. This was very moving. I was sorry it was dropped half way through in favour of re-establishing the childhood friendship as adults which I found altogether less compelling and convincing. As a novel it veered close to sentimentality at times. I wasn't entirely convinced two men could be content together in a single room far removed from every vestige of civilisation. I kept thinking one of them must be gay. But the author was determined to keep namedropping girlfriends even though, bar one, these girls made no appearance in the book. Surely to share a room in the mountains is an oxymoron? Claustrophobia in deep space.
There's a lot of description of mountainous terrain. Too much for my liking. But then I'm not a great fan of mountains. I prefer hills.
January 17, 2019
صداقة رائعة بين شخصين جمعهما حب الجبال.
احدهما يعيش في المدينة ويتجول في العالم، والآخر لم يخرج من قريته وفينا بعد من جبله.
التعلق في حب الجبال وتسلقها واستكشاف أوديتها وانحداراتها لا يتعلق به الا من جربها او عاش في تلك المناطق.
احداث القصة تجري في منطقة الآلب الإيطالية حيث يزرع الأب والأم حب الجبال في ابنهم الصغير والذي يصادق احد ابناء القرية وتستمر الصداقة لما يقارب الثلاثين عاما .
وصف الطبيعة رائع ولاني احب الجبال وأعشقها استمتعت بهذه الرواية جدا.
جميل ان تعشق شيئا تجده دائما وتعود اليه لتجد الجبال في انتظارك مهما غبت او تجولت تكون الجبال لها جمالها الخارق الذي يخلب الألباب.
أناس يعيشون حياتنا عادية لا تختلف عن اَي أناس يسيرون في الشارع ولا شيء مميز في حياتهم او حتى طموحهم ولكن القصة تجعلك انهم يصارعون للحفاظ هلى ما أحبوه وعشقته منذ الطفولة.
الترجمة ايضا رائعة
ممتعة
احدهما يعيش في المدينة ويتجول في العالم، والآخر لم يخرج من قريته وفينا بعد من جبله.
التعلق في حب الجبال وتسلقها واستكشاف أوديتها وانحداراتها لا يتعلق به الا من جربها او عاش في تلك المناطق.
احداث القصة تجري في منطقة الآلب الإيطالية حيث يزرع الأب والأم حب الجبال في ابنهم الصغير والذي يصادق احد ابناء القرية وتستمر الصداقة لما يقارب الثلاثين عاما .
وصف الطبيعة رائع ولاني احب الجبال وأعشقها استمتعت بهذه الرواية جدا.
جميل ان تعشق شيئا تجده دائما وتعود اليه لتجد الجبال في انتظارك مهما غبت او تجولت تكون الجبال لها جمالها الخارق الذي يخلب الألباب.
أناس يعيشون حياتنا عادية لا تختلف عن اَي أناس يسيرون في الشارع ولا شيء مميز في حياتهم او حتى طموحهم ولكن القصة تجعلك انهم يصارعون للحفاظ هلى ما أحبوه وعشقته منذ الطفولة.
الترجمة ايضا رائعة
ممتعة
November 21, 2018
The Eight Mountains is a beautifully and simply written coming of age story that explores relationships and connections not only between the characters but with the mountains and a tiny Alpine Village. We were taken from our sheltered coulee and were emerged into the Foothills of Italy’s Monte Rosa Mountains. We were taken on a journey with our main character Pietro along at times with his father or best friend Bruno though the village, jumping from rock to rock, wading in the river, taking us to summits and glaciers and hiking and climbing through the mountains. The descriptions so vivid that we felt like we were there with them.
Paolo Cognetti does a good job creating two very different complex characters here with Pietro and Bruno. Both living very different lives and but joined together by a deep complex bond.
Written is such a quiet way that allowed me to think of the connections between the characters and the land around them while they found their place in the world. I loved how this story made me feel and think of my own connections to the land around me.
The ending left me thinking long after finishing. It left me thinking along with the peace, adventure or journey in the mountains they come with danger, secrets and mystery. I highly recommend for those times when you need a beautifully written quiet story.
Published on March 20, 2018
Thank you, NetGalley, Atria and Paolo Cognetti for a copy to read and review.
Review written and posted on our themed book blog Two Sisters Lost In A Coulee Reading.
https://twosisterslostinacoulee.com
Paolo Cognetti does a good job creating two very different complex characters here with Pietro and Bruno. Both living very different lives and but joined together by a deep complex bond.
Written is such a quiet way that allowed me to think of the connections between the characters and the land around them while they found their place in the world. I loved how this story made me feel and think of my own connections to the land around me.
The ending left me thinking long after finishing. It left me thinking along with the peace, adventure or journey in the mountains they come with danger, secrets and mystery. I highly recommend for those times when you need a beautifully written quiet story.
Published on March 20, 2018
Thank you, NetGalley, Atria and Paolo Cognetti for a copy to read and review.
Review written and posted on our themed book blog Two Sisters Lost In A Coulee Reading.
https://twosisterslostinacoulee.com
April 3, 2018
4 terrific writing stars
This was a wonderfully written story about friendship, that between two young boys Bruno and Pietro, who meet and develop their relationship over many years. They both share the love of the mountains, the Dolomites in Italy in this case. They bring their thrill and love for this area together as they explore the lush beautiful and often dangerous environs of this area. Their parents although not in what seems to be loving relationships do love the mountains as well.
As the boys reach maturity they each go their separate ways, one to stay upon his beloved mountains and the other to travel the world. Even though they are separated by many miles, they come together often to reestablish both their friendship nurtured by age, and their enduring love of the mountains.
This was a lovely coming of age story told with a background of beauty and compassion. The boys' camaraderie, their friendship grows into something special something hard to find in the days where so many things tend to separate us from each other.
Many thanks to Paolo Cognetti, Atria Books, and NetGalley for allowing this reader to have an advacned copy of this novel.
Thanks are also extended to the Traveling Sisters who read this book along with me.
This was a wonderfully written story about friendship, that between two young boys Bruno and Pietro, who meet and develop their relationship over many years. They both share the love of the mountains, the Dolomites in Italy in this case. They bring their thrill and love for this area together as they explore the lush beautiful and often dangerous environs of this area. Their parents although not in what seems to be loving relationships do love the mountains as well.
As the boys reach maturity they each go their separate ways, one to stay upon his beloved mountains and the other to travel the world. Even though they are separated by many miles, they come together often to reestablish both their friendship nurtured by age, and their enduring love of the mountains.
This was a lovely coming of age story told with a background of beauty and compassion. The boys' camaraderie, their friendship grows into something special something hard to find in the days where so many things tend to separate us from each other.
Many thanks to Paolo Cognetti, Atria Books, and NetGalley for allowing this reader to have an advacned copy of this novel.
Thanks are also extended to the Traveling Sisters who read this book along with me.
January 20, 2018
Paolo Cognetti (n. 1978)
”As Oito Montanhas” é um romance que abre com o capítulo As Oito Montanhas e está dividido em três partes: Montanha da Infância, A Casa da Reconciliação e Inverno de Um Amigo; com cada uma das partes a estar subdividida em quatro capítulos.
Paolo Cognetti (n. 1978)
”As Oito Montanhas” tem como protagonista principal a montanha ou as montanhas, que nos fala de uma amizade entre dois amigos – Pietro e Bruno - que perdura para a vida, das complexas relações entre pais e filhos, da decepções da vida, do amor, nas suas múltiplas variantes, pela montanha, pela natureza, pelos familiares, pelos amigos,…; mas também sobre a vida e sobre a morte.
”As Oito Montanhas” é uma obra literária em que a cada página conseguimos visualizar com uma nitidez crescente os pensamentos e as sensações de um período e de uma vida que nos aproximam do que é genuíno, do que é importante; das relações e dos relacionamentos que devemos preservar, da forma como a natureza e o meio ambiente nos influência, construindo um olhar que a qualquer momento se torna mais nítido, numa reflexão sobre a nossa existência e sobre a história da nossa formação intelectual e sentimental. A forma como Paolo Cognetti nos expõe as sensações e as experiências que vamos adquirindo na infância e na adolescência, o modo como se vão agrupando em camadas existenciais, procurando respostas para as nossas incertezas e para as nossas indecisões - é magnífica; a vida é feita, fundamentalmente, de alegria e dor, e de muito, muito mais…, e também de ler livros como ”As Oito Montanhas”.
"As Oito Montanhas" numa ilustração da Alice Rebolino
January 17, 2020
"You cannot go back to the mountain that is the center of all others, and the beginning of your own history"
This is simply one of the best written stories I read in recent years. The tone of narrator Pietro, even though it is a bit restreined, is spot on from start to finish. His eye for details, especially in the descriptions of nature in the mountains, is phenomenal and not just random, but always with an underlying layer. The structure of the book is perfectly balanced, with first a coming of age section very similar to Mark Twain, a surprising middle section in which friendship is central, and the perhaps somewhat predictable final section that still appeals through the sophisticated alternation of episodes. The book is remarkably accessible, no modernist experiments with Cognetti, giving it the space that is typical for a classic story.
Many readers think that this book is only about the beautiful, though unlikely friendship between "professional mountain dweller" Bruno and the city boy Pietro. Or about Pietro's difficult relationship with his inscrutable father Gianni. Or that it’s just an ode to the beauty and power of the mountain nature, specifically the mountains in the north-west of Italy (not the Dolomites, as I see wrongly mentioned in many reviews). And of course, this book is about all these themes, and Cognetti has processed them cleverly. In some ways, this book is similar to that of Nan Shepherd’s The Living Mountain; her ode to the Scottish Cairn Mountains shows, just like this one by Cognetti, how the landscape itself gives meaning to our lives at least as much as vice versa.
But according to me the central theme of this book is actually Pietro's search for himself. In that sense, this book is another version of the Everyman- or Peer Gynt quest, a beautiful 21st century version of it. The final paragraph in particular summarizes it nicely: “Long after I had stopped following my father's paths, I had learned from him that in some lives there are mountains that you cannot return to. That in lives like mine and his, you cannot go back to the mountain that is the center of all others, and the beginning of your own history. And that people like us, who have lost a friend on the first and highest mountain, have no choice but to wander about the eight mountains.”
Perhaps almost all of us spend our entire lives wandering on those eight mountains, yearning for that one big, inaccessible peak in the middle. Cognetti did a great job in reminding us of this.
This is simply one of the best written stories I read in recent years. The tone of narrator Pietro, even though it is a bit restreined, is spot on from start to finish. His eye for details, especially in the descriptions of nature in the mountains, is phenomenal and not just random, but always with an underlying layer. The structure of the book is perfectly balanced, with first a coming of age section very similar to Mark Twain, a surprising middle section in which friendship is central, and the perhaps somewhat predictable final section that still appeals through the sophisticated alternation of episodes. The book is remarkably accessible, no modernist experiments with Cognetti, giving it the space that is typical for a classic story.
Many readers think that this book is only about the beautiful, though unlikely friendship between "professional mountain dweller" Bruno and the city boy Pietro. Or about Pietro's difficult relationship with his inscrutable father Gianni. Or that it’s just an ode to the beauty and power of the mountain nature, specifically the mountains in the north-west of Italy (not the Dolomites, as I see wrongly mentioned in many reviews). And of course, this book is about all these themes, and Cognetti has processed them cleverly. In some ways, this book is similar to that of Nan Shepherd’s The Living Mountain; her ode to the Scottish Cairn Mountains shows, just like this one by Cognetti, how the landscape itself gives meaning to our lives at least as much as vice versa.
But according to me the central theme of this book is actually Pietro's search for himself. In that sense, this book is another version of the Everyman- or Peer Gynt quest, a beautiful 21st century version of it. The final paragraph in particular summarizes it nicely: “Long after I had stopped following my father's paths, I had learned from him that in some lives there are mountains that you cannot return to. That in lives like mine and his, you cannot go back to the mountain that is the center of all others, and the beginning of your own history. And that people like us, who have lost a friend on the first and highest mountain, have no choice but to wander about the eight mountains.”
Perhaps almost all of us spend our entire lives wandering on those eight mountains, yearning for that one big, inaccessible peak in the middle. Cognetti did a great job in reminding us of this.
July 10, 2022
3/5 Estrellas
Pues tenía muchas expectativas puestas sobre este libro y la verdad tampoco me ha parecido nada especial.
Me gusta la naturaleza, pero ni soy montañero, ni alpinista, ni necesito alimentar mi espíritu con salidas periódicas a la montaña, como los protagonista de este libro, quizá por eso no me ha llegado lo suficiente.
Me he criado en un entorno rural, he vivido en y del campo y no tengo para nada idealizado este modo de vida, duro y poco gratificante donde los haya, quizá por esto tampoco me ha llegado.
La historia fraternal entre dos amigos tan distintos, ambos amantes de las montañas pero provenientes de mundos casi antagónicos, tiene su punto tierno y nostálgico, pero tampoco me ha parecido nada excepcional
Quizá la figura del padre y la relación paterno-filial me ha parecido la más interesante del libro, ese quiero y no puedo, esa falta de comunicación nunca resuelta, esa incompatibilidad de caracteres por ser demasiado iguales, esa reconciliación que nunca se produjo, esa conversación que se queda en el tintero y que nunca acaba sucediendo, esos remordimientos que permanecen cuando ya nada tiene solución......
También me ha gustado que habla de la montaña desde el punto de vista de sus habitantes. Un entorno que debe ser conservado, pero también aprovechado mediante usos y costumbres tradicionales. Los urbanitas visualizan los bosques, las reservas naturales, como una especie de parque de atracciones que deben permanecer intocados e inviolados, sin darse cuenta que si le impides a los habitantes un mínimo aprovechamiento, le plantan cerilla al día siguiente, o los fuerzas a irse y el despoblamiento ocasiona consecuencias similares por abandono del campo y su entorno. En fin, lo vemos todos los años en nuestro país.
Escritura tierna y evocadora que te encantará si amas la montaña y el alpinismo. Si esto te interesa poco o nada, como a mi, pues puede dejarte un poco indiferente. Mi opinión claro.
Pues tenía muchas expectativas puestas sobre este libro y la verdad tampoco me ha parecido nada especial.
Me gusta la naturaleza, pero ni soy montañero, ni alpinista, ni necesito alimentar mi espíritu con salidas periódicas a la montaña, como los protagonista de este libro, quizá por eso no me ha llegado lo suficiente.
Me he criado en un entorno rural, he vivido en y del campo y no tengo para nada idealizado este modo de vida, duro y poco gratificante donde los haya, quizá por esto tampoco me ha llegado.
La historia fraternal entre dos amigos tan distintos, ambos amantes de las montañas pero provenientes de mundos casi antagónicos, tiene su punto tierno y nostálgico, pero tampoco me ha parecido nada excepcional
Quizá la figura del padre y la relación paterno-filial me ha parecido la más interesante del libro, ese quiero y no puedo, esa falta de comunicación nunca resuelta, esa incompatibilidad de caracteres por ser demasiado iguales, esa reconciliación que nunca se produjo, esa conversación que se queda en el tintero y que nunca acaba sucediendo, esos remordimientos que permanecen cuando ya nada tiene solución......
También me ha gustado que habla de la montaña desde el punto de vista de sus habitantes. Un entorno que debe ser conservado, pero también aprovechado mediante usos y costumbres tradicionales. Los urbanitas visualizan los bosques, las reservas naturales, como una especie de parque de atracciones que deben permanecer intocados e inviolados, sin darse cuenta que si le impides a los habitantes un mínimo aprovechamiento, le plantan cerilla al día siguiente, o los fuerzas a irse y el despoblamiento ocasiona consecuencias similares por abandono del campo y su entorno. En fin, lo vemos todos los años en nuestro país.
Escritura tierna y evocadora que te encantará si amas la montaña y el alpinismo. Si esto te interesa poco o nada, como a mi, pues puede dejarte un poco indiferente. Mi opinión claro.
April 29, 2018
This was a beautifully written story about the friendship of two young Italian boys, Pietro and Bruno – both of whom come from different backgrounds, yet from the moment they meet, they develop a closeness akin to two brothers. Their friendship is indeed a special one, as Pietro is from the city and though he shares an almost immediate love for the Dolomites – the mountains located in the northeastern border of Italy where his family travels for vacation – he does not fully understand the deep relationship that his friend Bruno has with these mountains where he grew up, nor does he understand the inexplicable pull that these same mountains have on his own parents, especially his father. Despite the divergent paths that their lives end up taking and the many months, even years, they often spend apart, the friendship between Pietro and Bruno endures over the course of several decades and later it is through Bruno that Pietro eventually comes to appreciate and connect to the late father with whom he had grown distant over the course of his life. More than just a coming of age story, this is also one that emphasizes the bonds of family, especially that between father and son….at its core, this is a story about relationships in its many forms – between friends, various members of the family, love relationships, and of course, relationship with nature and its surrounding landscape.
There were so many things I loved about this atmospheric yet quietly written book: the beautiful descriptions of the mountains and its surrounding landscape, rendered in a way that made the mountains an important character in the story; the lyrical, contemplative prose, writing so full of depth and meaning, yet uncomplicated in its execution – I found myself highlighting extensively throughout my reading and even stopping at various points just to absorb and reflect upon what I had just read; the characters whom I grew to really care about and root for, characters created by the author Paolo Cognetti so meticulously and presented with obvious care, yet were still realistically portrayed with personalities and flaws that we can all relate to -- characters that, by story’s end, made me feel a little saddened knowing that I would not be able to continue the journey with them. I also loved the way all the different relationships were portrayed, especially the enduring friendship between Pietro and Bruno as well as the strenuous one between Pietro and his father…both relationships were poignantly drawn – touching, yet at the same time also heartbreaking.
This was a book that captivated me from the beginning, found its way into my heart, and after that wouldn’t let go -- a short book, yet one packed with so much depth and meaning. This was a lovely read, one that I won’t soon forget. Definitely highly recommended!
Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.
There were so many things I loved about this atmospheric yet quietly written book: the beautiful descriptions of the mountains and its surrounding landscape, rendered in a way that made the mountains an important character in the story; the lyrical, contemplative prose, writing so full of depth and meaning, yet uncomplicated in its execution – I found myself highlighting extensively throughout my reading and even stopping at various points just to absorb and reflect upon what I had just read; the characters whom I grew to really care about and root for, characters created by the author Paolo Cognetti so meticulously and presented with obvious care, yet were still realistically portrayed with personalities and flaws that we can all relate to -- characters that, by story’s end, made me feel a little saddened knowing that I would not be able to continue the journey with them. I also loved the way all the different relationships were portrayed, especially the enduring friendship between Pietro and Bruno as well as the strenuous one between Pietro and his father…both relationships were poignantly drawn – touching, yet at the same time also heartbreaking.
This was a book that captivated me from the beginning, found its way into my heart, and after that wouldn’t let go -- a short book, yet one packed with so much depth and meaning. This was a lovely read, one that I won’t soon forget. Definitely highly recommended!
Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.
April 24, 2017
#DozzinaStrega2017
“Forse è vero, come sosteneva mia madre, che ognuno di noi ha una quota prediletta in montagna, un paesaggio che gli somiglia e dove si sente bene. La sua era senz’altro il bosco dei 1500 metri, quello di abeti e larici, alla cui ombra crescono il mirtillo, il ginepro e il rododendro, e si nascondono i caprioli. Io ero piú attratto dalla montagna che viene dopo: prateria alpina, torrenti, torbiere, erbe d’alta quota, bestie al pascolo. Ancora piú in alto la vegetazione scompare, la neve copre ogni cosa fino all’inizio dell’estate e il colore prevalente è il grigio della roccia, venato dal quarzo e intarsiato dal giallo dei licheni. Lí cominciava il mondo di mio padre.”
Lucido, mimetico, evocativo.
Un bel romanzo italiano.
Pur senza avermi stravolto. [74/100]
“Forse è vero, come sosteneva mia madre, che ognuno di noi ha una quota prediletta in montagna, un paesaggio che gli somiglia e dove si sente bene. La sua era senz’altro il bosco dei 1500 metri, quello di abeti e larici, alla cui ombra crescono il mirtillo, il ginepro e il rododendro, e si nascondono i caprioli. Io ero piú attratto dalla montagna che viene dopo: prateria alpina, torrenti, torbiere, erbe d’alta quota, bestie al pascolo. Ancora piú in alto la vegetazione scompare, la neve copre ogni cosa fino all’inizio dell’estate e il colore prevalente è il grigio della roccia, venato dal quarzo e intarsiato dal giallo dei licheni. Lí cominciava il mondo di mio padre.”
Lucido, mimetico, evocativo.
Un bel romanzo italiano.
Pur senza avermi stravolto. [74/100]
June 11, 2021
Racconta un mito buddista che esiste una montagna molto alta, il Sumeru. Attorno ad essa, otto montagne e otto mari compongono il mondo come lo conosciamo. Ci sono quelli che tentano di raggiungere la cima del Sumeru, testardi, e ci sono quelli che si dedicano a viaggiare sulle altre montagne, vagando senza meta. Alla fine della vita, chi ha imparato di più? Chi ha raggiunto la cuspide della montagna sacra o chi ha vagato per la periferia?
Questo mito ha ispirato "Le otto montagne" (2016), Premio Strega e bestseller in diversi paesi, che ha consolidato Paolo Cognetti come uno degli scrittori italiani più interessanti, e non meno discusso, del momento.
Scrive con parole semplici, ma con significati profondi; uno stile temperato, fluido e sottile che penetra senza difficoltà nel lettore. Il problema principale è che cade troppe volte nei luoghi più comuni e arrivato a un punto stanca sentire parlare sempre della montagna in maniera artificiosa.
Si tratta di un romanzo sull'amicizia tra due uomini di carattere introverso, una relazione fatta di silenzi. Personaggi e amicizia però non tanto credibili, troppo naif.
L'altra questione rilevante è la paternità. L'importanza del ruolo del padre, così come la simbolica "eredità"; sia Pietro che Bruno, i protagonisti, ripetono lo schema dei rispettivi genitori, dal rifiuto istintivo alla ripetizione involontaria. In questo senso la storia è circolare, perché collega il passato con il presente.
Una lettura (senza aggettivo).
Questo mito ha ispirato "Le otto montagne" (2016), Premio Strega e bestseller in diversi paesi, che ha consolidato Paolo Cognetti come uno degli scrittori italiani più interessanti, e non meno discusso, del momento.
Scrive con parole semplici, ma con significati profondi; uno stile temperato, fluido e sottile che penetra senza difficoltà nel lettore. Il problema principale è che cade troppe volte nei luoghi più comuni e arrivato a un punto stanca sentire parlare sempre della montagna in maniera artificiosa.
"Quel che dovevo proteggere, in me, era la capacità di stare solo. C’era voluto del tempo per abituarmi alla solitudine, farne un luogo in cui potevo accomodarmi e stare bene; eppure sentivo che tra noi il rapporto era sempre difficile. Così me ne andavo verso casa come riprendendo confidenza con lei. Se il cielo non era coperto, ben presto spegnevo la frontale. Bastavano un quarto di luna e le stelle per intuire il sentiero tra i larici. Niente si muoveva a quell'ora tranne i miei passi e il torrente, che continuava a scrosciare e gorgogliare mentre il bosco dormiva. Nel silenzio la sua voce era chiara e potevo distinguere i toni di ogni ansa, rapida, cascata, attutiti dal folto della vegetazione e via via più nitidi sulla pietraia."
Si tratta di un romanzo sull'amicizia tra due uomini di carattere introverso, una relazione fatta di silenzi. Personaggi e amicizia però non tanto credibili, troppo naif.
L'altra questione rilevante è la paternità. L'importanza del ruolo del padre, così come la simbolica "eredità"; sia Pietro che Bruno, i protagonisti, ripetono lo schema dei rispettivi genitori, dal rifiuto istintivo alla ripetizione involontaria. In questo senso la storia è circolare, perché collega il passato con il presente.
"Se il punto in cui ti immergi in un fiume è il presente, pensai, allora il passato è l’acqua che ti ha superato, quella che va verso il basso e dove non c’è più niente per te, mentre il futuro è l’acqua che scende dall'alto, portando pericoli e sorprese. Il passato è a valle, il futuro a monte. Ecco come avrei dovuto rispondere a mio padre. Qualunque cosa sia il destino, abita nelle montagne che abbiamo sopra la testa.
Una lettura (senza aggettivo).
June 26, 2022
Да се разумемо, ова књига није ремек-дело, али је топла, питка, створена за читање у паузи од планинарења или шетње у природи.
Централне теме су однос оца и сина, као и однос између два мушкарца, пријатеља од детињства – Пјетра, „градског“ детета који у планину долази само на летњем распусту и Бруна, правог горштака којем је планина цео живот. Од дечачких несташлука и бесциљног летњег лутања, развиће се пријатељство, дубоко, али стишано, у коме се без много речи постиже разумевање. Пјетров однос са оцем је, пак, другачији, комплексан и у суштини се њих двојица никада неће разумети. Све ово уклопљено је у прелепи пејзаж италијанских Алпа, моћног планинског масива, чије лепоте, али и суровости писац успешно описује.
Коњети пише једноставно, успешно приказујући различите психолошке профиле својих јунака, без патетике, а морам рећи и да ме је позитивно изненадио изостанак хепи ендинга.
Баш сам уживао у читању.
Централне теме су однос оца и сина, као и однос између два мушкарца, пријатеља од детињства – Пјетра, „градског“ детета који у планину долази само на летњем распусту и Бруна, правог горштака којем је планина цео живот. Од дечачких несташлука и бесциљног летњег лутања, развиће се пријатељство, дубоко, али стишано, у коме се без много речи постиже разумевање. Пјетров однос са оцем је, пак, другачији, комплексан и у суштини се њих двојица никада неће разумети. Све ово уклопљено је у прелепи пејзаж италијанских Алпа, моћног планинског масива, чије лепоте, али и суровости писац успешно описује.
Коњети пише једноставно, успешно приказујући различите психолошке профиле својих јунака, без патетике, а морам рећи и да ме је позитивно изненадио изостанак хепи ендинга.
Баш сам уживао у читању.
February 14, 2022
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این کتاب داستان بسیار زیبایی از یک نويسندهی معاصر ایتالیایی است. داستان پسری به نام پیترو که پدر و مادری کوهنورد و علاقمند به طبیعت دارد. از زمان کودکی پیترو، پسر مزرعهداری فقیر به نام برونو وارد زندگی آنها شده و با ورود او پیترو ابتدا حسادت کرده ولی بعد در سنین جوانی حضور برونو باعث گشایش درهایی از آنچه که او نمیداند، میشود.
🏔
اگر به کوهنوردی و گشت و گذار در طبیعت علاقه دارید این کتاب میتونه نقطهی عطفی باشه. چرا که داستان در عین سادگی واقعا زیبا و با احساس روایت شده است.
🏔
در زمان حیات پدر، پیترو نتوانسته با او ارتباط بگیرد و علت علاقهی او را به طبیعت و بخصوص کوهها درک کند ولی بعدها با دوستی دوباره و رفت و آمد با برونو، خیلی از مسائلی را که قبلا از درکشان عاجز بوده را میفهمد. در واقع کوهها تنها منبعی میشوند که پیترو میتواند از طریق آنها با پدرش ارتباط برقرار کند و او را بفهمد.
🏔
به طورکلی کوهها و طبیعت تنها چیزی بود که باعث همبستگی این خانواده شد و پل و نقطهی اتصال قهرمانان داستان است.
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کتاب برای یادآوری مفاهیمی از جمله لذت و فلسفهی زندگی، روابط پدر و پسری، عشق، محبت و دوستی خوب عمل کرده است.
🏔
از این کتاب به عنوان یک رمان روانشناختی هم یاد شده زیرا به وضوح مشخص است که برخی شخصیتها در بیان احساسات ناتوان هستند و این چقدر میتواند در زندگی آنها اثرگذار باشد.
این کتاب داستان بسیار زیبایی از یک نويسندهی معاصر ایتالیایی است. داستان پسری به نام پیترو که پدر و مادری کوهنورد و علاقمند به طبیعت دارد. از زمان کودکی پیترو، پسر مزرعهداری فقیر به نام برونو وارد زندگی آنها شده و با ورود او پیترو ابتدا حسادت کرده ولی بعد در سنین جوانی حضور برونو باعث گشایش درهایی از آنچه که او نمیداند، میشود.
🏔
اگر به کوهنوردی و گشت و گذار در طبیعت علاقه دارید این کتاب میتونه نقطهی عطفی باشه. چرا که داستان در عین سادگی واقعا زیبا و با احساس روایت شده است.
🏔
در زمان حیات پدر، پیترو نتوانسته با او ارتباط بگیرد و علت علاقهی او را به طبیعت و بخصوص کوهها درک کند ولی بعدها با دوستی دوباره و رفت و آمد با برونو، خیلی از مسائلی را که قبلا از درکشان عاجز بوده را میفهمد. در واقع کوهها تنها منبعی میشوند که پیترو میتواند از طریق آنها با پدرش ارتباط برقرار کند و او را بفهمد.
🏔
به طورکلی کوهها و طبیعت تنها چیزی بود که باعث همبستگی این خانواده شد و پل و نقطهی اتصال قهرمانان داستان است.
🏔
کتاب برای یادآوری مفاهیمی از جمله لذت و فلسفهی زندگی، روابط پدر و پسری، عشق، محبت و دوستی خوب عمل کرده است.
🏔
از این کتاب به عنوان یک رمان روانشناختی هم یاد شده زیرا به وضوح مشخص است که برخی شخصیتها در بیان احساسات ناتوان هستند و این چقدر میتواند در زندگی آنها اثرگذار باشد.
February 25, 2025
تو اون کوه بلندی که سر تا پا غروره
کشیده سر به خورشید غریب و بی عبوره
تو تنها تکیه گاهی برای خستگی هام
تو می دونی چی می گم
تو گوش می دی به حرفام
هشت کوه نوشته پائولو کنیهتی ایتالیایی داستانی است لطیف از روابط انسانی در دل کوههای پر برف ایتالیا. روایت داستان آرام و با نثری ساده و روان انجام شده. کتاب از ترجمه مناسبی برخورداره و فاصله شش ساله چاپ دوم اثر با چاپ نخستش و تعداد کم ریویوهای فارسی نشان دهنده عدم اقبال مخاطب فارسی به این اثر به زعم من خواندنی است...
پیترو محوریترین شخصیت داستان که راوی هم هست در خلال داستان زندگی خودش رو از کودکی تا بزرگسالی تعریف میکنه. زندگی که گره ناگسستنی با کوه و کوهنوردی داره. در دوران کودکی پدرش اصرار زیادی به کوهنوردی داره که با میل و رغبت پیترو همراه نیست. رابطه پدر و پسر یک رابطه سرد مثل کوهستان است که «سکوت» بازیگر اصلی این رابطه است. طرفین با هم کم حرف میزنند.این کم حرف زدن و غلبه و سایه افکندن سکوت بر کل رابطه بسیار زیبا نشون داده شده.بدون هیچ تردیدی یکی از بزرگترین اشتباهات روابط انسانی همین سکوت و رد و بدل نشدن کلام افراد با همدیگه است. سکوتی که منجر به نگفتنهای زیادی میشه. نگفتنهایی که شاید روزی انسان افسوسش رو بخوره و زمانی که این اتفاق بیفته راهی جز افسوس نیست و بیهوده مضری بیش از افسوس خوردن وجود نداره. رابطه پدر و پسر از جنس حداقل گفتوگو بود و احساسات زیادی در این وسط دفن شد. طرفین طبق یک قول و قرار ناگفته به این سطح از رابطه میرسند و نویسنده در نشون دادن این قضیه بسیار موفق عمل کرده.
البته بیشتر حجم داستان در مورد رابطه رفاقت پیترو و برونو است. رابطهای که در کوهستان آغاز میشه و با فراز و نشیبها و جداییهای ناخواسته تا آخر عمر ادامه پیدا میکنه. بعد از مدتی و رخ دادن اتفاقاتی طرفین تصمیم به ساخت یک خانه در دل کوه میگیرند.خانه ای که رابطه آنها را مستحکمتر میکنه. اساسا « رفاقت» در داستان کنیهتی نقش پررنگی داره. رفاقتی که مثل خود کوهنوردی آرام آرام شکل میگیره و بارها و بارها در سنین مختلف دو طرف به هم رجوع میکنند. داستان رو میشه از ابعاد گوناگون نگاه کرد ولی یکی از مهمترین مسائل ستایش رفاقت و دوستی است.رفاقتی که بعضا به گمشدهای در زندگی تبدیل میشه و جای خالیاش بدجور حس میشه و اذیت میکنه.
کوهها در داستان نقش مهمی دارند. جدای از حضور همیشگی در فضای داستان، جایی در داستان به نقل از افسانهای قدیمی فلسفه هشت کوه تعریف میشه.طبق این افسانه قدیمی، در مرکز زمین کوه بلندی به نام سومرو قرار گرفته و اطرافش با هشت کوه که توسط هشت دریا جدا شده احاطه شده.در ادامه سوال مهمی مطرح میشه: چه کسی بیشتر آموخته، آنکه به همه هشت کوه رفته یا آنکه به قلهی سومرو رسیده؟ پیترو و برونو هر کدومشون، یک طرف این سوال قرار میگیرند و مسیری رو طی میکنند و شاید نویسنده به توجه به سرانجام شخصیتها، روش انتخایی پیوتر رو مناسبتر دونسته. فکر کردن به این سوال میتونه سوغاتی این اثر برای مخاطب باشه.
هشت کوه داستانی است که هیجان و نقطه اوجی نداره و با یک ریتم آرام روایت میشه.پس انتظار یک داستان پرهیجان پر اتفاق نداشته باشید. ولی اگر دل به روایت لطیف نویسنده بدید، شاید تجربه مطالعاتی خوبی براتون باشه. .من به داستانهای ریتم کند علاقهای ندارم و سلیقهام نیست ولی با این وجود هشت کوه رو دوست داشتم.فکر میکنم نویسنده جاهایی از داستان دست گذاشت رو نقاطی که میتونه احساساتمو برانگیخته کنه و همین باعث شد دوستش داشته باشم.
کشیده سر به خورشید غریب و بی عبوره
تو تنها تکیه گاهی برای خستگی هام
تو می دونی چی می گم
تو گوش می دی به حرفام
هشت کوه نوشته پائولو کنیهتی ایتالیایی داستانی است لطیف از روابط انسانی در دل کوههای پر برف ایتالیا. روایت داستان آرام و با نثری ساده و روان انجام شده. کتاب از ترجمه مناسبی برخورداره و فاصله شش ساله چاپ دوم اثر با چاپ نخستش و تعداد کم ریویوهای فارسی نشان دهنده عدم اقبال مخاطب فارسی به این اثر به زعم من خواندنی است...
پیترو محوریترین شخصیت داستان که راوی هم هست در خلال داستان زندگی خودش رو از کودکی تا بزرگسالی تعریف میکنه. زندگی که گره ناگسستنی با کوه و کوهنوردی داره. در دوران کودکی پدرش اصرار زیادی به کوهنوردی داره که با میل و رغبت پیترو همراه نیست. رابطه پدر و پسر یک رابطه سرد مثل کوهستان است که «سکوت» بازیگر اصلی این رابطه است. طرفین با هم کم حرف میزنند.این کم حرف زدن و غلبه و سایه افکندن سکوت بر کل رابطه بسیار زیبا نشون داده شده.بدون هیچ تردیدی یکی از بزرگترین اشتباهات روابط انسانی همین سکوت و رد و بدل نشدن کلام افراد با همدیگه است. سکوتی که منجر به نگفتنهای زیادی میشه. نگفتنهایی که شاید روزی انسان افسوسش رو بخوره و زمانی که این اتفاق بیفته راهی جز افسوس نیست و بیهوده مضری بیش از افسوس خوردن وجود نداره. رابطه پدر و پسر از جنس حداقل گفتوگو بود و احساسات زیادی در این وسط دفن شد. طرفین طبق یک قول و قرار ناگفته به این سطح از رابطه میرسند و نویسنده در نشون دادن این قضیه بسیار موفق عمل کرده.
البته بیشتر حجم داستان در مورد رابطه رفاقت پیترو و برونو است. رابطهای که در کوهستان آغاز میشه و با فراز و نشیبها و جداییهای ناخواسته تا آخر عمر ادامه پیدا میکنه. بعد از مدتی و رخ دادن اتفاقاتی طرفین تصمیم به ساخت یک خانه در دل کوه میگیرند.خانه ای که رابطه آنها را مستحکمتر میکنه. اساسا « رفاقت» در داستان کنیهتی نقش پررنگی داره. رفاقتی که مثل خود کوهنوردی آرام آرام شکل میگیره و بارها و بارها در سنین مختلف دو طرف به هم رجوع میکنند. داستان رو میشه از ابعاد گوناگون نگاه کرد ولی یکی از مهمترین مسائل ستایش رفاقت و دوستی است.رفاقتی که بعضا به گمشدهای در زندگی تبدیل میشه و جای خالیاش بدجور حس میشه و اذیت میکنه.
کوهها در داستان نقش مهمی دارند. جدای از حضور همیشگی در فضای داستان، جایی در داستان به نقل از افسانهای قدیمی فلسفه هشت کوه تعریف میشه.طبق این افسانه قدیمی، در مرکز زمین کوه بلندی به نام سومرو قرار گرفته و اطرافش با هشت کوه که توسط هشت دریا جدا شده احاطه شده.در ادامه سوال مهمی مطرح میشه: چه کسی بیشتر آموخته، آنکه به همه هشت کوه رفته یا آنکه به قلهی سومرو رسیده؟ پیترو و برونو هر کدومشون، یک طرف این سوال قرار میگیرند و مسیری رو طی میکنند و شاید نویسنده به توجه به سرانجام شخصیتها، روش انتخایی پیوتر رو مناسبتر دونسته. فکر کردن به این سوال میتونه سوغاتی این اثر برای مخاطب باشه.
هشت کوه داستانی است که هیجان و نقطه اوجی نداره و با یک ریتم آرام روایت میشه.پس انتظار یک داستان پرهیجان پر اتفاق نداشته باشید. ولی اگر دل به روایت لطیف نویسنده بدید، شاید تجربه مطالعاتی خوبی براتون باشه. .من به داستانهای ریتم کند علاقهای ندارم و سلیقهام نیست ولی با این وجود هشت کوه رو دوست داشتم.فکر میکنم نویسنده جاهایی از داستان دست گذاشت رو نقاطی که میتونه احساساتمو برانگیخته کنه و همین باعث شد دوستش داشته باشم.
August 29, 2018
Come un mandala
Libro dall’indubbia matrice autobiografica al sapor di montagna, non lascia indifferenti tutti coloro che la amano o la praticano direttamente o indirettamente. Chi scrive abita in una pianura, la più estesa della Sardegna, Il Campidano, nel mezzo appunto, Il Medio Campidano, e la montagna è entrata nella sua vita attraverso la mediazione del suo uomo, prima il ragazzo dell’adolescenza poi il marito della faticosa vita adulta. Lui la pratica con più passione, è la sua passione come la mia è leggere, e io ne capisco di montagna quanto lui delle mie letture: qualche volta ci rimane avviluppato con un ingombro fisico, i libri per casa sparsi, altre volte con le suggestioni di lettura che entrano nel quotidiano delle conversazioni funzionali, quelle del comune vivere, altre ancora quando le nostre letture, per una strana alchimia si incrociano. Ed è stata la volta di Cognetti, lui ha acquistato il libro, io l’ho letto per prima. L’ho divorato perché si legge d’un colpo e la montagna è rientrata nella mia vita. Dopo le prime escursioni per le cale del nostro Supramonte di Baunei, dopo qualche incursione nel più vicino Linas, dopo i primi approcci con le Alpi, Trentino , Valle d’Aosta e le Orobie lombarde, dopo il Tirolo austriaco, dopo i resoconti più fotografici che orali dal Makalu, dal Masnatu e da altre regioni nepalesi, con alle pareti di casa mandala o ritratti di maternità/serenità coi volti felici di madri e figli, mi ritrovo a condividere tutto il contenuto di questo bel libro, io nel basso del Medio Campidano.
Sensazioni di camminata, ambienti che si susseguono, preferenze tra il bosco o la nuda roccia, fatica, malessere, pace, silenzio, rigenerazione .... il fissare l’ambiente che si vive pochi giorni all’anno e non pensare che l’inverno lo trasfigura rendendolo irriconoscibile. Il verde e il bianco, i prati o la neve, l’andare e lo stare, la vacanza, la vita quotidiana. La montagna è dura, non ci sono dubbi, per chi la disturba in vacanza, come capita a me, ma ancora di più per chi ci è nato e ci vive. Eppure, proprio questo legame con la Terra di appartenenza la rende così preziosa per chi ci è nato e per chi ne ha ricevuto l’imprinting frequentandola da piccolo. Ci si ritorna, sempre. Questo libro racconta dunque la storia di un andare e tornare per la montagna seguendo le direttici primarie di due cittadini: un padre e un figlio, ognuno con le sue ragioni. In mezzo, il restare ostinato di chi ci è sempre stato, un giovane montanaro accolto, di traverso, nella famiglia cittadina durante le sue permanenze estive nel territorio che gli appartiene e che gli altri attraversano. Movimento, in fondo di questo si tratta, all’ombra della metafora che nutre la storia delle otto montagne (niente a che vedere con una lista di cime scalate): quale linea seguire? Quale percorso di vita? Seguendo la direttrice verticale o quella circolare. Ognuno persegue il proprio cammino, nessuno è avulso dall’errore, tutti portano alla meta, la propria. Buona lettura.
Libro dall’indubbia matrice autobiografica al sapor di montagna, non lascia indifferenti tutti coloro che la amano o la praticano direttamente o indirettamente. Chi scrive abita in una pianura, la più estesa della Sardegna, Il Campidano, nel mezzo appunto, Il Medio Campidano, e la montagna è entrata nella sua vita attraverso la mediazione del suo uomo, prima il ragazzo dell’adolescenza poi il marito della faticosa vita adulta. Lui la pratica con più passione, è la sua passione come la mia è leggere, e io ne capisco di montagna quanto lui delle mie letture: qualche volta ci rimane avviluppato con un ingombro fisico, i libri per casa sparsi, altre volte con le suggestioni di lettura che entrano nel quotidiano delle conversazioni funzionali, quelle del comune vivere, altre ancora quando le nostre letture, per una strana alchimia si incrociano. Ed è stata la volta di Cognetti, lui ha acquistato il libro, io l’ho letto per prima. L’ho divorato perché si legge d’un colpo e la montagna è rientrata nella mia vita. Dopo le prime escursioni per le cale del nostro Supramonte di Baunei, dopo qualche incursione nel più vicino Linas, dopo i primi approcci con le Alpi, Trentino , Valle d’Aosta e le Orobie lombarde, dopo il Tirolo austriaco, dopo i resoconti più fotografici che orali dal Makalu, dal Masnatu e da altre regioni nepalesi, con alle pareti di casa mandala o ritratti di maternità/serenità coi volti felici di madri e figli, mi ritrovo a condividere tutto il contenuto di questo bel libro, io nel basso del Medio Campidano.
Sensazioni di camminata, ambienti che si susseguono, preferenze tra il bosco o la nuda roccia, fatica, malessere, pace, silenzio, rigenerazione .... il fissare l’ambiente che si vive pochi giorni all’anno e non pensare che l’inverno lo trasfigura rendendolo irriconoscibile. Il verde e il bianco, i prati o la neve, l’andare e lo stare, la vacanza, la vita quotidiana. La montagna è dura, non ci sono dubbi, per chi la disturba in vacanza, come capita a me, ma ancora di più per chi ci è nato e ci vive. Eppure, proprio questo legame con la Terra di appartenenza la rende così preziosa per chi ci è nato e per chi ne ha ricevuto l’imprinting frequentandola da piccolo. Ci si ritorna, sempre. Questo libro racconta dunque la storia di un andare e tornare per la montagna seguendo le direttici primarie di due cittadini: un padre e un figlio, ognuno con le sue ragioni. In mezzo, il restare ostinato di chi ci è sempre stato, un giovane montanaro accolto, di traverso, nella famiglia cittadina durante le sue permanenze estive nel territorio che gli appartiene e che gli altri attraversano. Movimento, in fondo di questo si tratta, all’ombra della metafora che nutre la storia delle otto montagne (niente a che vedere con una lista di cime scalate): quale linea seguire? Quale percorso di vita? Seguendo la direttrice verticale o quella circolare. Ognuno persegue il proprio cammino, nessuno è avulso dall’errore, tutti portano alla meta, la propria. Buona lettura.
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