What do you think?
Rate this book
A Devil Comes to Town
“Maurensig has created a gripping short novel that is critical of the realities of publishing, a hybrid of at least two genres, highly imaginative, and involving even beyond the final page.” —Critica Letteraria
“Biblical, oblique, and lying somewhere between thriller, fantasy, and legend, the new novel by Paolo Maurensig, A Devil Comes to Town, is a disturbing reflection in narrative form concerning the darker side of writing.” —Il Giornale
Wild rabies runs rampant through the woods. The foxes are gaining ground, boldly making their way into the village. In Dichtersruhe, an insular yet charming haven stifled by the Swiss mountains, these omens go unnoticed by all but the new parish priest. The residents have other things on their mind: Literature. Everyone’s a writer—the nights are alive with reworked manuscripts. So when the devil turns up in a black car claiming to be a hot-shot publisher, unsatisfied authorial desires are unleashed and the village’s former harmony is shattered. Taut with foreboding and Gothic suspense, Paolo Maurensig gives us a refined and engaging literary parable on narcissism, vainglory, and our inextinguishable thirst for stories.
Paolo Maurensig is one of Italy’s bestselling authors. He debuted in 1993 with The Lüneburg Variation, translated into twenty-five languages, and selling over 2 million copies in Italy. His novels include Canone Inverso, The Guardian of Dreams, and The Archangel of Chess. For his novel Theory of Shadows, published by FSG in the US in January 2018, he won the Bagutta Prize. A Devil Comes to Town is his latest novel and received rave reviews in the European press.
120 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2018
32 people are currently reading
4287 people want to read
About the author
Paolo Maurensig
25 books144 followersPaolo Maurensig (Gorizia, 1943-Udine, 2021) è stato uno scrittore italiano.
Approdato alla scrittura dopo aver fatto l'agente di commercio, il successo letterario è arrivato nel 1993 con La variante di Lüneburg, che narra di una partita fra due maestri di scacchi che si prolunga idealmente attraverso gli eventi storici della seconda guerra mondiale, con il colpo di scena finale che rivelerà la vera natura dei giocatori.
Il secondo romanzo, Canone inverso del 1996, è invece incentrato sulla musica, in una cornice mitteleuropea
Paolo Maurensig, wa an Italian novelist, best known for the book Canone Inverso.
Before becoming a novelist, Maurensig worked in a variety of occupations, including as a restorer of antique musical instruments. His first book, The Luneburg Variation, was published after he had turned 50. His second book, Canone Inverso, achieved international fame. As of the mid-1990s, Maurensig lives in Udine, Italy. He plays the baroque flute, viola de gamba, and the cello.
Approdato alla scrittura dopo aver fatto l'agente di commercio, il successo letterario è arrivato nel 1993 con La variante di Lüneburg, che narra di una partita fra due maestri di scacchi che si prolunga idealmente attraverso gli eventi storici della seconda guerra mondiale, con il colpo di scena finale che rivelerà la vera natura dei giocatori.
Il secondo romanzo, Canone inverso del 1996, è invece incentrato sulla musica, in una cornice mitteleuropea
Paolo Maurensig, wa an Italian novelist, best known for the book Canone Inverso.
Before becoming a novelist, Maurensig worked in a variety of occupations, including as a restorer of antique musical instruments. His first book, The Luneburg Variation, was published after he had turned 50. His second book, Canone Inverso, achieved international fame. As of the mid-1990s, Maurensig lives in Udine, Italy. He plays the baroque flute, viola de gamba, and the cello.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 225 reviews
Want to read
August 12, 2019you can buy this book, OR you can listen to booksellers read it aloud one page at a time here:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfzT...
OR if you only wanna hear pages 95-6 read too quickly and self-consciously by ME, skip ahead to day 78:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWzul...
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfzT...
OR if you only wanna hear pages 95-6 read too quickly and self-consciously by ME, skip ahead to day 78:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWzul...
May 19, 2019
A priest takes up a pastoral post in a Swiss mountain village, where he uncovers a bizarre secret: almost every resident harbours dreams of being a published writer. The swine gelder is a passionate poet, the grocer is the author of a sci-fi trilogy, and the former minister has several volumes of memoirs stuffed into the desk drawer. So far, none of them has been published – but one day, someone new arrives in town promising to make all their dreams come true…a publisher whom the priest believes to be none other than the devil himself.
This book has a decidedly literary-European feel, combining a light and witty tone with a sense – perhaps clear from the synopsis above – of rather laboured allegory. As the devil/publisher sets about pitting all the locals against one another, we seem to be building up to a play on authorial vanity and the dangers of the literary project:
And a lot of this is indeed quite good fun, not least the knowingly Gothic atmosphere, all moonless nights, remote village inns, and woods howling with rabid foxes. Translator Anne Milano Appel takes this on with gusto, though a couple of her vocabulary choices seem a little odd (the priest's hat which is called a saturno in Italian she translates as ‘saturn’ in English, a word I've never seen and which doesn't appear in any dictionary I own – we seem to use the Italian word, or call it a ‘cappello romano’).
The danger with any book about literary vainglory is that it invites the same sceptical attention on itself that it is gleefully scattering upon its subject; positioning itself in a world where ‘even the most banal thoughts—as long as they are printed in type—are accepted as absolute truth’. Well, quite. How well A Devil Comes to Town holds up under this attention will depend on your own appetite for light, quasi-philosophical novellas. I liked it, I must confess, but I hope Maurensig didn't sell any souls to get it into print.
This book has a decidedly literary-European feel, combining a light and witty tone with a sense – perhaps clear from the synopsis above – of rather laboured allegory. As the devil/publisher sets about pitting all the locals against one another, we seem to be building up to a play on authorial vanity and the dangers of the literary project:
“Each time we pick up a pen we are preparing to perform a ritual for which two candles should always be lit: one white and one black. Unlike painting and sculpture, which remain anchored to a material subject, and to music, which in contrast transcends matter altogether, literature can dominate both spheres: the concrete and the abstract, the terrestrial and the otherworldly.”
And a lot of this is indeed quite good fun, not least the knowingly Gothic atmosphere, all moonless nights, remote village inns, and woods howling with rabid foxes. Translator Anne Milano Appel takes this on with gusto, though a couple of her vocabulary choices seem a little odd (the priest's hat which is called a saturno in Italian she translates as ‘saturn’ in English, a word I've never seen and which doesn't appear in any dictionary I own – we seem to use the Italian word, or call it a ‘cappello romano’).
The danger with any book about literary vainglory is that it invites the same sceptical attention on itself that it is gleefully scattering upon its subject; positioning itself in a world where ‘even the most banal thoughts—as long as they are printed in type—are accepted as absolute truth’. Well, quite. How well A Devil Comes to Town holds up under this attention will depend on your own appetite for light, quasi-philosophical novellas. I liked it, I must confess, but I hope Maurensig didn't sell any souls to get it into print.
July 9, 2019
Un pequeño pueblo de Suiza, un lugar idílico típico de postal en el que todo el mundo escribe, desde el alcalde hasta el charcutero, todos. Un día llega el diablo en forma de editor y organiza un concurso literario que desencadena el caos ..... Es una historia estupenda en la que solo me ha faltado que fuera un poco más larga porque creo que esta situación daba para mucho más.
September 18, 2022
Koks viršelis, toks ir turinys.
Jau antra leidyklos World Editions knyga sugundžiusi mane savo apdaru. Jei ne ši fotografo Charles Fréger (Prancūzija) nuotrauka iš serijos "tribal Europe" panaudota viršeliui, nežinau ar būčiau pastebėjusi šį trumputį (113 psl.) naujausią italų rašytojo romaną.
Gotikinėje atmosferoje rutuliuojasi filosofinis beveik trileris.
Nuošalaus Šveicarijos miestelio gyventojai apsėsti literatūra, tiksliau jos kūrimu. Procesas paaštrėja, kuomet į miestelį atvyksta Leidėjas ir pažada išleisti jų kūrybą. Vienintelis vikaras mato atvykėlyje įsikūnijusį velnią...
...apie susireikšminimą, saviapgaulę, tuštybę...ir dar velniai žino ką.
O jau kokio gerumo pabaiga. Labai rekomenduoju.
Jau antra leidyklos World Editions knyga sugundžiusi mane savo apdaru. Jei ne ši fotografo Charles Fréger (Prancūzija) nuotrauka iš serijos "tribal Europe" panaudota viršeliui, nežinau ar būčiau pastebėjusi šį trumputį (113 psl.) naujausią italų rašytojo romaną.
Gotikinėje atmosferoje rutuliuojasi filosofinis beveik trileris.
Nuošalaus Šveicarijos miestelio gyventojai apsėsti literatūra, tiksliau jos kūrimu. Procesas paaštrėja, kuomet į miestelį atvyksta Leidėjas ir pažada išleisti jų kūrybą. Vienintelis vikaras mato atvykėlyje įsikūnijusį velnią...
...apie susireikšminimą, saviapgaulę, tuštybę...ir dar velniai žino ką.
O jau kokio gerumo pabaiga. Labai rekomenduoju.
May 8, 2018
Videorecensione sul Tubo.
Il diavolo nel cassetto è una matrioska di tre storie intrecciate in cui Paolo Maurensig si giostra abilmente, senza mai perdere il filo, e con uno stile elegante che mai stanca e sempre suscita meraviglia.
Un editore (per quel che ne sappiamo, potrebbe trattarsi dello stesso Maurensig) deve sgomberare una stanza colma di cianfrusaglie. Vi sono anche una serie di vecchi manoscritti, che decide di leggere per assicurarsi di non buttar via un'opera degna di essere pubblicata.
Ecco che tra loro si distingue un manoscritto, il cui narratore ancora una volta non si presenta. Racconta di essere un editore, recatosi in un paesino della Svizzera in cerca di opere letterare da pubblicare con la casa editrice per cui lavora. Nella locanda presso cui alloggia incontra un altro ospite, padre Cornelius, che gli racconta di un tempo in cui era temporaneamente parroco in un piccolo paese svizzero e lì incontrò il diavolo, sotto le mentite spoglie di un editore proprietario della più famosa casa editrice tedesca e che voleva indire un concorso letterario per il premio Goethe e indurre in tentazione tutti gli abitanti che ambivano a diventare scrittori e avevano tutti un manoscritto nel cassetto che attendeva di veder la luce.
E' una parabola, una critica (velata?) rivolta all'editoria di oggi, alla triste e dura realtà che "Più alto è il numero delle persone che si dedicano alla stessa attività creativa, tanto più questa decade... e quanto più un’arte decade, tanto maggiore è il numero delle persone che vi si dedicano.". Paradossalmente siamo giunti al punto in cui ci sono più scrittori che lettori, al punto in cui le pubblicazioni sono troppe per essere curate con attenzione e devozione e non c'è spazio per la qualità e il labor limae.
Non manca un'altra critica nei confronti della società contemporanea, dove ognuno millanta di essere introverso ma è disposto a sbandierare ogni cosa ai quattro venti pur di appararire, di farsi conoscere, di poter "parlare ad un pubblico" ed essere ascoltato.
Ed io stessa faccio fatica a volte a padroneggiare la mia presenza in ribalta, dividere la vita privata dalla vita privata che può diventare pubblica.
Canone inverso resta, al momento, il mio libro preferito di Paolo Maurensig. Tuttavia questa piccola storia è riuscita, in poche pagine, a sviluppare con notevole abilità intrecci; abbondano gli spunti di riflessione e per tutto il libro aleggia un'aria di mistero e realismo magico che fa domandare al lettore - anche a lettura ultimata - se ciò che ha letto e vero o se si tratta di un'articolata metafora da districare.
Il diavolo nel cassetto è una matrioska di tre storie intrecciate in cui Paolo Maurensig si giostra abilmente, senza mai perdere il filo, e con uno stile elegante che mai stanca e sempre suscita meraviglia.
Un editore (per quel che ne sappiamo, potrebbe trattarsi dello stesso Maurensig) deve sgomberare una stanza colma di cianfrusaglie. Vi sono anche una serie di vecchi manoscritti, che decide di leggere per assicurarsi di non buttar via un'opera degna di essere pubblicata.
Ecco che tra loro si distingue un manoscritto, il cui narratore ancora una volta non si presenta. Racconta di essere un editore, recatosi in un paesino della Svizzera in cerca di opere letterare da pubblicare con la casa editrice per cui lavora. Nella locanda presso cui alloggia incontra un altro ospite, padre Cornelius, che gli racconta di un tempo in cui era temporaneamente parroco in un piccolo paese svizzero e lì incontrò il diavolo, sotto le mentite spoglie di un editore proprietario della più famosa casa editrice tedesca e che voleva indire un concorso letterario per il premio Goethe e indurre in tentazione tutti gli abitanti che ambivano a diventare scrittori e avevano tutti un manoscritto nel cassetto che attendeva di veder la luce.
E' una parabola, una critica (velata?) rivolta all'editoria di oggi, alla triste e dura realtà che "Più alto è il numero delle persone che si dedicano alla stessa attività creativa, tanto più questa decade... e quanto più un’arte decade, tanto maggiore è il numero delle persone che vi si dedicano.". Paradossalmente siamo giunti al punto in cui ci sono più scrittori che lettori, al punto in cui le pubblicazioni sono troppe per essere curate con attenzione e devozione e non c'è spazio per la qualità e il labor limae.
Non manca un'altra critica nei confronti della società contemporanea, dove ognuno millanta di essere introverso ma è disposto a sbandierare ogni cosa ai quattro venti pur di appararire, di farsi conoscere, di poter "parlare ad un pubblico" ed essere ascoltato.
Ed io stessa faccio fatica a volte a padroneggiare la mia presenza in ribalta, dividere la vita privata dalla vita privata che può diventare pubblica.
Canone inverso resta, al momento, il mio libro preferito di Paolo Maurensig. Tuttavia questa piccola storia è riuscita, in poche pagine, a sviluppare con notevole abilità intrecci; abbondano gli spunti di riflessione e per tutto il libro aleggia un'aria di mistero e realismo magico che fa domandare al lettore - anche a lettura ultimata - se ciò che ha letto e vero o se si tratta di un'articolata metafora da districare.
June 13, 2019
And now for something completely different and wonderful.
A Devil Comes to Town is going to slip under the radar of most readers. And it shouldn’t. It’s a insightful and absorbing fable by a wordmagician who throws lots of balls in the air. When he catches all of them neatly in the end, the reader can only say, “Ahhhh…”
The book begins with a publishing house consultant who chances on a cleric, Father Cornelius, during a conference in Switzerland. He is then privy to a strange tale: the cleric was sent to a town called Dichtersruhe where virtually every resident harbors literary ambitions. Not long after, a flamboyant Lucerne publisher – who might be the devil himself – arrives with the promise of fame and fortune for the village’s best manuscript. The award – the Goethe prize – is slated to launch one of the village people’s careers. As an overlay, Father Cornelius is spotting a number of rabid foxes, which portends upcoming madness. Are the devil and the foxes in cahoots?
This is a spare book and I’m loathe to provide spoilers. But I will address broad themes: how the townspeople falter and turn on each other when a stranger proffers the mirage of success, how the narcissism and vanity that go hand-in-hand with literary competitions turns a peaceful village into a devil’s nest, how the stories we tell can be used for good or evil.
Then another layer is added, causing the reader to ask: is Father Cornelius an unreliable narrator? Or do each of us have a Faustian portion that lurks beneath our surface? It’s totally brilliant and well worth reading.
A Devil Comes to Town is going to slip under the radar of most readers. And it shouldn’t. It’s a insightful and absorbing fable by a wordmagician who throws lots of balls in the air. When he catches all of them neatly in the end, the reader can only say, “Ahhhh…”
The book begins with a publishing house consultant who chances on a cleric, Father Cornelius, during a conference in Switzerland. He is then privy to a strange tale: the cleric was sent to a town called Dichtersruhe where virtually every resident harbors literary ambitions. Not long after, a flamboyant Lucerne publisher – who might be the devil himself – arrives with the promise of fame and fortune for the village’s best manuscript. The award – the Goethe prize – is slated to launch one of the village people’s careers. As an overlay, Father Cornelius is spotting a number of rabid foxes, which portends upcoming madness. Are the devil and the foxes in cahoots?
This is a spare book and I’m loathe to provide spoilers. But I will address broad themes: how the townspeople falter and turn on each other when a stranger proffers the mirage of success, how the narcissism and vanity that go hand-in-hand with literary competitions turns a peaceful village into a devil’s nest, how the stories we tell can be used for good or evil.
Then another layer is added, causing the reader to ask: is Father Cornelius an unreliable narrator? Or do each of us have a Faustian portion that lurks beneath our surface? It’s totally brilliant and well worth reading.
September 18, 2019
"Guai a essere giudicati indegni dell'attenzione altrui. Meglio essere accusati, calunniati, derisi, piuttosto che ignorati. Che cosa induce la gente a scrivere se non questo vago timore di non aver fatto abbastanza per garantirsi un seguito di vita"
Il diavolo nel cassetto è un libro-matriosca. Un editore che ci legge la storia di un manoscritto anonimo, ritrovato, fra un pila di altre scartoffie, sulla sua scrivania e che, a sua volta, narra la storia raccontata da una terza persona all'autore anonimo.
Non siete ancora convinti a dargli una possibilità?
La storia si svolge in un piccolo cantone svizzero, molto diffidente verso chiunque non sia originario del posto. Una cosa su tutte distingue questo cantone dagli altri: tutti gli abitanti sono aspiranti scrittori. E se un diavolo dovesse mietere le anime di aspiranti scrittori sotto che forma si mostrerebbe a loro? Quella di editore, ovviamente.
Lo stile favolistico di Maurensig è il filo rosso che tiene insieme questo susseguirsi di bizzarre vicende. Una metafora dell'industria editoriale davvero ben riuscita.
Il diavolo nel cassetto è un libro-matriosca. Un editore che ci legge la storia di un manoscritto anonimo, ritrovato, fra un pila di altre scartoffie, sulla sua scrivania e che, a sua volta, narra la storia raccontata da una terza persona all'autore anonimo.
Non siete ancora convinti a dargli una possibilità?
La storia si svolge in un piccolo cantone svizzero, molto diffidente verso chiunque non sia originario del posto. Una cosa su tutte distingue questo cantone dagli altri: tutti gli abitanti sono aspiranti scrittori. E se un diavolo dovesse mietere le anime di aspiranti scrittori sotto che forma si mostrerebbe a loro? Quella di editore, ovviamente.
Lo stile favolistico di Maurensig è il filo rosso che tiene insieme questo susseguirsi di bizzarre vicende. Una metafora dell'industria editoriale davvero ben riuscita.
May 20, 2019
This is a curious little novel. A story within a story within a story, it’s a satire on literary pretensions, literary prizes and the ends to which people will go to gain recognition of their (supposed) literary talents. Literary society is a ‘place where vainglory, fuelled by envy, grows immoderately, where even the most banal thoughts – as long as they are printed in type – are accepted as absolute truth’.
The Swiss village to which Father Cornelius is sent is a strange place. It’s isolated and the inhabitants are not well-disposed to outsiders. A macabre note is introduced by the presence of foxes infected with rabies in the forests surrounding the village. This coincides with the arrival of a curious personage, Bernard Fuchs, purporting to be a publisher from Lucerne. In a village where everyone believes themselves an author awaiting discovery, he is initially greeted like a hero and fawned over at every turn. However, Father Cornelius is firmly convinced that Fuchs is the devil in human form, although he struggles to persuade other villagers of this.
There’s playful humour about the process of writing, editing and submission. Employed to sift through piles of manuscripts, Father Cornelius imagines the response he’d really like to give: ‘Tear up the pages of your manuscript one by one…rewrite it ten times, eliminate at least a dozen adjectives on each page, take your wasted paper and toss it in the fire’.
Things turn nasty when rejection letters start to be delivered and secrets from the past seem set to be revealed. Does Father Cornelius defeat the devil? You wouldn’t expect a book about storytelling to end with everything neatly tied up and in A Devil Comes To Town it certainly doesn’t.
The Swiss village to which Father Cornelius is sent is a strange place. It’s isolated and the inhabitants are not well-disposed to outsiders. A macabre note is introduced by the presence of foxes infected with rabies in the forests surrounding the village. This coincides with the arrival of a curious personage, Bernard Fuchs, purporting to be a publisher from Lucerne. In a village where everyone believes themselves an author awaiting discovery, he is initially greeted like a hero and fawned over at every turn. However, Father Cornelius is firmly convinced that Fuchs is the devil in human form, although he struggles to persuade other villagers of this.
There’s playful humour about the process of writing, editing and submission. Employed to sift through piles of manuscripts, Father Cornelius imagines the response he’d really like to give: ‘Tear up the pages of your manuscript one by one…rewrite it ten times, eliminate at least a dozen adjectives on each page, take your wasted paper and toss it in the fire’.
Things turn nasty when rejection letters start to be delivered and secrets from the past seem set to be revealed. Does Father Cornelius defeat the devil? You wouldn’t expect a book about storytelling to end with everything neatly tied up and in A Devil Comes To Town it certainly doesn’t.
July 15, 2019
Una manera muy interesante de poner sobre la mesa la manera en que puede caer la gente en creer o dejarse engañar por quien sea que le halague el ego.
Creo que en mayor o menor medida todos tenemos un poquito de esa necesidad de destacar sobre el resto, de esperar hacer algo en esta vida que deje huella o que nos haga famosos y de paso que nos haga ricos.
Así conocemos en voz de un sacerdote católico la historia de un pequeño pueblo suizo que lo único de peculiar que tiene es que Goethe estuvo ahí en algún momento, sus habitantes se sienten orgullosos de este hecho y los hace pensar que tal vez como la gripe, la genialidad y el talento literario se puede contagiar con el solo hecho de respirar el mismo aire que alguna vez respiro uno de los grandes, así que todos tienen este “pasatiempo” de escribir, todos soñando con alguna vez ver sus cuentas, novelas o biografías publicadas.
Así pues, toda esta gente se deja ir en busca de la fama en cuanto alguien llega a hablarles bonito y a prometerles fama y fortuna.
El libro es muy corto, pero opino que tiene la exactitud de poner lo que debe para dejar claro el mensaje que quiere expresar, con una prosa sencilla y un ritmo bastante agradable, me he leído este libro en un santiamén, me ha gustado mucho.
Creo que en mayor o menor medida todos tenemos un poquito de esa necesidad de destacar sobre el resto, de esperar hacer algo en esta vida que deje huella o que nos haga famosos y de paso que nos haga ricos.
Así conocemos en voz de un sacerdote católico la historia de un pequeño pueblo suizo que lo único de peculiar que tiene es que Goethe estuvo ahí en algún momento, sus habitantes se sienten orgullosos de este hecho y los hace pensar que tal vez como la gripe, la genialidad y el talento literario se puede contagiar con el solo hecho de respirar el mismo aire que alguna vez respiro uno de los grandes, así que todos tienen este “pasatiempo” de escribir, todos soñando con alguna vez ver sus cuentas, novelas o biografías publicadas.
Así pues, toda esta gente se deja ir en busca de la fama en cuanto alguien llega a hablarles bonito y a prometerles fama y fortuna.
El libro es muy corto, pero opino que tiene la exactitud de poner lo que debe para dejar claro el mensaje que quiere expresar, con una prosa sencilla y un ritmo bastante agradable, me he leído este libro en un santiamén, me ha gustado mucho.
July 11, 2019
Oh what a weird and wonderful little book this is! The idea of the devil, posing as a publisher, turning up in a town full of aspiring writers is so bloody wacky and hilarious that it had me from the get go. But it is Maurensig's execution that is truly brilliant - a pitch perfect fable that is eminently relatable while maintaining that other-worldliness that is the hallmark of the form. One of my favourite reads so far this year.
October 31, 2025
This novella is an interesting narrative mix of a devil-comes-to-town with selling-your-soul-to-the-devil. In the vein of two of my favourite novels, The Master and Margarita and Faust, it is a deliciously cooked satire, this one though is aimed at writers, and the whole business of writing and publishing books.
It’s a story within a story within a story, a triple meta thrill on the senses with two narrators, one grandly unreliable, and yet pretty easy to keep up with. In a small spooky Swiss town where wild foxes roam rabid carrying rabies, where almost every resident is an aspiring writer, where outsiders aren’t welcome except for a short summer ski stint, arrives the devil himself in the guise of a publisher. Without going much into it, he tempts the town people with the lure of publishing their manuscripts as well as giving away a literary prize to the best among them. Tongue-dripping at the prospect of success, they bare their and their closest people’s naked truths and darkest secrets in their work, they lavish the devil with gifts and favours, and pretty soon turn against each other as there can only be one winner. In all this busyness, no one recognises the devil for who he is except an assistant priest who is also our unreliable narrator.
And so a peaceful town upends into chaos central, asking some interesting questions about the literary society as an institution, calling it a ‘place where vainglory, fuelled by envy, grows immoderately, where even the most banal thoughts – as long as they are printed in type – are accepted as absolute truth’. The author probes into the requisite isolation of the lives of writers, their egos and pretensions, their pursuit of literary legacy and prizes and finally, how vicious they might turn towards those who dare not rank their work highly, or towards those they deem their competition. It also looks into the prejudices into what kind of writers are widely accepted and which ones are not because they aren’t societally approved enough.
It’s a little book with a lot going on, fable-like with a creepy undertone, far out into imagination but within the realm of reality. The story has its own uniqueness, and though it’s subtler and simpler than I’d like, it is both entertaining and thought-provoking. 3.5 stars!
It’s a story within a story within a story, a triple meta thrill on the senses with two narrators, one grandly unreliable, and yet pretty easy to keep up with. In a small spooky Swiss town where wild foxes roam rabid carrying rabies, where almost every resident is an aspiring writer, where outsiders aren’t welcome except for a short summer ski stint, arrives the devil himself in the guise of a publisher. Without going much into it, he tempts the town people with the lure of publishing their manuscripts as well as giving away a literary prize to the best among them. Tongue-dripping at the prospect of success, they bare their and their closest people’s naked truths and darkest secrets in their work, they lavish the devil with gifts and favours, and pretty soon turn against each other as there can only be one winner. In all this busyness, no one recognises the devil for who he is except an assistant priest who is also our unreliable narrator.
And so a peaceful town upends into chaos central, asking some interesting questions about the literary society as an institution, calling it a ‘place where vainglory, fuelled by envy, grows immoderately, where even the most banal thoughts – as long as they are printed in type – are accepted as absolute truth’. The author probes into the requisite isolation of the lives of writers, their egos and pretensions, their pursuit of literary legacy and prizes and finally, how vicious they might turn towards those who dare not rank their work highly, or towards those they deem their competition. It also looks into the prejudices into what kind of writers are widely accepted and which ones are not because they aren’t societally approved enough.
It’s a little book with a lot going on, fable-like with a creepy undertone, far out into imagination but within the realm of reality. The story has its own uniqueness, and though it’s subtler and simpler than I’d like, it is both entertaining and thought-provoking. 3.5 stars!
January 2, 2021
Ovaj kratak roman predstavlja mali vašar taštine ispričan Bulgakovljevim manirom. Priča o ljudskoj sujeti i potrebi da se bude prepoznat, odnosno da se dostigne besmrtnost neretko je obogaćena humorom i pruža pregršt lepih rečenica za nas koji volimo da podvlačimo.
November 11, 2024
3.5⭐️
Kraj je izvukao celu stvar i učvrstio poziciju nepouzdanog naratora koji mi je (izgleda sa razlogom) sve vreme bio odbojan. Iako su primetni uticaji "Čarobnog brega" i Bulgakova, ovaj mali roman mi je ipak bio, u nedostatku bolje reči, underwhelming.
Kraj je izvukao celu stvar i učvrstio poziciju nepouzdanog naratora koji mi je (izgleda sa razlogom) sve vreme bio odbojan. Iako su primetni uticaji "Čarobnog brega" i Bulgakova, ovaj mali roman mi je ipak bio, u nedostatku bolje reči, underwhelming.
January 21, 2019
Indubbiamente scritto con maestria, usando un linguaggio ricercato che sembra riportare la breve storia indietro nel tempo, in un'epoca non ben definita del passato. Un intreccio di tre storie una dentro l'altra. Una grande metafora sul mondo editoriale e sulle sue insidie. Una critica sulla nevrosi dell'ultimo millennio in cui tutto deve apparire ad ogni costo e nessuno è in grado di vivere senza il suo "minuto di celebrità".
August 31, 2021
Fui com a expectativa lá em cima e me decepcionei muito. Se você lê o resumo do livro e os comentários sobre ele, já sabe 90% da história. Os 10% que você não sabe não trazem nada muito surpreendente e que redima essa falta de surpresas. As reflexões ao final do último capítulo, que seriam os pontos mais interessantes da obra, ficaram desconectadas do restante da narrativa e não são exploradas ao longo da história. Ainda bem que o livro é curto.
March 30, 2021
Quando le aspettative erano troppo alte e durante la lettura sono state smontate. Consigliato da diverse bookblogger, appena sono riuscita a trovarlo nella bancarella dell'usato, ho subito approfittato.
Quello che notate subito è la struttura particolare: un racconto nei racconti che se gestito malamente può rovinare l'opera. Considerando la lunghezza del libro, è normale notare contenuti e punti frettoloso ma accentuato dalla scrittura classica e ricca di grandi "paroloni" che rendono ricercato ma completamente apatico per il lettore. Anche se il connubio del diavolo con l'editoria, è un tema molto attuale e una trasposizione triste della realtà ma non sono riuscita ad andare oltre questo.
Questo distacco tra lettore e libro, ha reso noiosa una lettura che prometteva molto. Non riesco a consigliarlo.
Quello che notate subito è la struttura particolare: un racconto nei racconti che se gestito malamente può rovinare l'opera. Considerando la lunghezza del libro, è normale notare contenuti e punti frettoloso ma accentuato dalla scrittura classica e ricca di grandi "paroloni" che rendono ricercato ma completamente apatico per il lettore. Anche se il connubio del diavolo con l'editoria, è un tema molto attuale e una trasposizione triste della realtà ma non sono riuscita ad andare oltre questo.
Questo distacco tra lettore e libro, ha reso noiosa una lettura che prometteva molto. Non riesco a consigliarlo.
May 14, 2019
En la última obra del italiano Paolo Maurensig (Gorizia, 1943), un editor de prestigio encuentra entre un montón de objetos olvidados un manuscrito en el que su autor, novelista en ciernes que acudía en Suiza a un congreso de psicoanálisis en calidad de consultor editorial, declara haber entrado en contacto con un sacerdote convencido de que el diablo camina entre los seres humanos con forma de hombre. A continuación, el religioso pasa a narrarle un truculento y perturbador episodio en el que una colonia de aspirantes a escritores fue sacudida por la aparición de un misterioso benefactor que, gracias a su codiciado certamen literario, consiguió enemistar a toda una comunidad de vecinos consumidos por la vanidad. Con ritmo de thriller y constantes guiños al Fausto de Goethe, Un asunto del diablo nos invita a reflexionar de manera brillante sobre los recovecos más oscuros de la narrativa, el origen del mal o la naturaleza intrínsecamente maligna de los impulsos que guían la creación literaria. «¿Qué es lo que induce a las personas a escribir, más que este vago temor de no haber hecho lo suficiente para garantizarnos una secuela de vida?». Breve pero contundente, Un asunto del diablo constituye una provocativa sátira sobre el mundo editorial, así como una impactante meditación sobre el incierto, aunque innegable, poder de la literatura.
May 25, 2019
A Devil Comes to Town is a novella translated from Italian that is an interesting blend of genres. Part literary thriller, part parable, part dark satire, it plays with structure in a self-conscious way. Set up as a story within a story, within a story, it satirizes the literary world and is in some ways is a sendup of the church and theology as well. The main story involves a priest recounting his time serving in a village of aspiring writers, when the devil came to town, posing as an editor on behalf of a prestigious publishing house.
It is both strange and smart, packing quite a lot into such a small book and leaving the reader with questions. For instance, is the priest a reliable narrator? Did any of this really happen? What happens next? I've seen reviews calling this a parable about vainglory, and in some ways it is, demonstrating the dangers of overly competitive behavior and the easy development of self-interested corruption. But it is much more than that, and the ending calls everything into question.
I found this to be very interesting, but I did have a couple of issues with it, although I'm not sure how much of it has to do with the translation. In a twist that is perhaps meant to be humorous, the only writer who produces something with merit in this town full of aspiring writers is a mentally challenged young woman, with everything else being more or less trash. First, this can read as rather pretentious, if interpreted as the author seeing little value in the work of most writers. That was my initial reaction. But it's also possible, since the priest is the one commenting on the writing, that he is the pretentious one. I'm not really sure. I also didn't love that the young woman who did write well was referred to multiple times as "mentally retarded" which reads to me as dismissive and rather offensive. However, this could be an issue with translation and a less than ideal word choice without attention to the social subtleties of modern English.
Given those issues, I would still recommend giving this one a try and in my rating of the book, I gave the author the benefit of the doubt due to it being translated. I did receive a review copy of this book from the publisher. All opinions are my own.
It is both strange and smart, packing quite a lot into such a small book and leaving the reader with questions. For instance, is the priest a reliable narrator? Did any of this really happen? What happens next? I've seen reviews calling this a parable about vainglory, and in some ways it is, demonstrating the dangers of overly competitive behavior and the easy development of self-interested corruption. But it is much more than that, and the ending calls everything into question.
I found this to be very interesting, but I did have a couple of issues with it, although I'm not sure how much of it has to do with the translation. In a twist that is perhaps meant to be humorous, the only writer who produces something with merit in this town full of aspiring writers is a mentally challenged young woman, with everything else being more or less trash. First, this can read as rather pretentious, if interpreted as the author seeing little value in the work of most writers. That was my initial reaction. But it's also possible, since the priest is the one commenting on the writing, that he is the pretentious one. I'm not really sure. I also didn't love that the young woman who did write well was referred to multiple times as "mentally retarded" which reads to me as dismissive and rather offensive. However, this could be an issue with translation and a less than ideal word choice without attention to the social subtleties of modern English.
Given those issues, I would still recommend giving this one a try and in my rating of the book, I gave the author the benefit of the doubt due to it being translated. I did receive a review copy of this book from the publisher. All opinions are my own.
February 23, 2024
It was no surprise that I enjoyed this. I'm a bag fan of Maurensig, having read three previous novels of his and found them all great, and beacuse its his only venture into the horror genre. I hurry to add though, that it is literary hour, and subtle.
There's not a lot of need for a summary, as the title does that. Straight away it put me in mind of another 'devil comes to town' novel, Joan Samson's The Auctioneer, which was more recognisable as out and out horror, though just as entertaining.
Its a novel in layers, with an author with just one successful book is sent manuscripts from hopeful authors looking for advice and help in publishing them. Amongst them is an anonymous one, 'The Devil in the Drawer'. The manuscript tells of how the protagonist, Friedrich, in September 1991 travels to a Swiss town by Lake Zurich where he meets a priest, Father Cornelius, who warns him about the devil, and the evils of literature, which he calls "a dangerous endeavor".
In turn, Cornelius relates a tale of his own encounter with the devil, which makes up the bulk of the novel. Cornelius was sent to a Swiss tourist town to aid the local priest, the town known for its high population of writers, indeed Goethe lived there. Cornelius is keen to embrace the town's love of literature, so sets up a new prize for local writers. However, his arrival coincides with the arrival of another stranger, a publisher from Lucerne, Bernhard Fuchs, promising locals the moon and the stars, and settling down to observe the various goings-on. Fuchs is of course, the devil.
There's little else of the supernatural, no blood and guts, indeed very little violence. Its a work of horror, because it is unsettling. Literature in its main theme, with subtle homages, and a tongue-in-cheek feel that ensures reading never gets too heavy.
There's not a lot of need for a summary, as the title does that. Straight away it put me in mind of another 'devil comes to town' novel, Joan Samson's The Auctioneer, which was more recognisable as out and out horror, though just as entertaining.
Its a novel in layers, with an author with just one successful book is sent manuscripts from hopeful authors looking for advice and help in publishing them. Amongst them is an anonymous one, 'The Devil in the Drawer'. The manuscript tells of how the protagonist, Friedrich, in September 1991 travels to a Swiss town by Lake Zurich where he meets a priest, Father Cornelius, who warns him about the devil, and the evils of literature, which he calls "a dangerous endeavor".
In turn, Cornelius relates a tale of his own encounter with the devil, which makes up the bulk of the novel. Cornelius was sent to a Swiss tourist town to aid the local priest, the town known for its high population of writers, indeed Goethe lived there. Cornelius is keen to embrace the town's love of literature, so sets up a new prize for local writers. However, his arrival coincides with the arrival of another stranger, a publisher from Lucerne, Bernhard Fuchs, promising locals the moon and the stars, and settling down to observe the various goings-on. Fuchs is of course, the devil.
There's little else of the supernatural, no blood and guts, indeed very little violence. Its a work of horror, because it is unsettling. Literature in its main theme, with subtle homages, and a tongue-in-cheek feel that ensures reading never gets too heavy.
September 12, 2019
This book had a LOT of potential, but it really just ended up a mess. Not sure if it's because of the translation or if this is just sloppy, pretentious writing (I'm thinking the latter).
This story, within a story, within a story, was jumbled, unclear, and seemingly pointless. For a story that accuses modern literature to be cheap and terrible, this is really a pretentious and ill-written story. The point of view switches from an initial narrator--we'll call them Narrator A--a publish reading a submitted story, to the narrator of the story he's reading--Narrator B--who is ALSO a publisher, but is writing about a story he heard from someone else, to what I guess is the "main" narrator--Narrator C--who is a priest. To make it even more confusing, he throws in a change of font for Narrator B, but isn't consistent with it at all.
This could have been a very interesting story, but the author dripped in too much writer's bias that came off offensive (to a fellow writing and literature consumer like myself). Maybe I missed the point, but if I did, it's because this was terribly written and I don't feel bad.
This story, within a story, within a story, was jumbled, unclear, and seemingly pointless. For a story that accuses modern literature to be cheap and terrible, this is really a pretentious and ill-written story. The point of view switches from an initial narrator--we'll call them Narrator A--a publish reading a submitted story, to the narrator of the story he's reading--Narrator B--who is ALSO a publisher, but is writing about a story he heard from someone else, to what I guess is the "main" narrator--Narrator C--who is a priest. To make it even more confusing, he throws in a change of font for Narrator B, but isn't consistent with it at all.
This could have been a very interesting story, but the author dripped in too much writer's bias that came off offensive (to a fellow writing and literature consumer like myself). Maybe I missed the point, but if I did, it's because this was terribly written and I don't feel bad.
July 18, 2019
A writer sets off to find a manuscript for his publisher uncle. At an academic conference, he encounters a priest who has fought with the devil and walked away. The priest's story of his devil battle is the main story here, although we know before even beginning that it's so chilling that it becomes the defining moment of the writer-listener's life. After hearing this tale, he gives up his dream of being a writer.
In an isolated tourist town, every resident is a secret writer. None outwardly chase fame, but all quietly send off manuscripts to forever be rejected. The humorous twist is that some hang up the kindly-worded rejections. Their existence is interrupted by the devil in the form of a publisher. The devil has had to adjust to modernity, and he's been unemployed for a while.
Slightly funny, specific enough to avoid being too mired in parable or myth, and ultimately ambiguous, A Devil Comes to Town was a worthwhile read. The premise alone caught me, but I stayed for the quick pace and human-consuming foxes.
In an isolated tourist town, every resident is a secret writer. None outwardly chase fame, but all quietly send off manuscripts to forever be rejected. The humorous twist is that some hang up the kindly-worded rejections. Their existence is interrupted by the devil in the form of a publisher. The devil has had to adjust to modernity, and he's been unemployed for a while.
Slightly funny, specific enough to avoid being too mired in parable or myth, and ultimately ambiguous, A Devil Comes to Town was a worthwhile read. The premise alone caught me, but I stayed for the quick pace and human-consuming foxes.
March 2, 2021
4,25 ⭐️
Großartige kleine Geschichte, die man in einem Rutsch durchgelesen hat.
Großartige kleine Geschichte, die man in einem Rutsch durchgelesen hat.
October 23, 2019
Moving through two levels of framing (Narrators One and Two) we are taken to a central story, related by Narrator Three, a former priest and teacher of philosophy. He tells his story to a publisher’s agent (Narrator Two) at conference on psychoanalysis. This happens in 1991, with the priest relating events that occurred ten years earlier in a remote Alpine village. The village’s one claim to fame is that Goethe once stayed there, and something of a tourist business has been built on this perhaps fictitious event. For whatever reason the locals have all developed literary aspirations and constantly mail dull manuscripts to publishers. The only thing published, and to international acclaim, was an illustrated book of children’s verse – written by the village idiot.
The setting and the theme of threats from the environment is reminiscent of Adalbert Shifter’s “Rock Crystal” or Jeremias Gotthelf’s “The Black Spider”. Located on the boundary between civilization and nature in the raw, between good and evil, the threat of evil in this tale is manifested by foxes carrying rabies. Then a man named Fuchs (German for Fox) arrives and offers to publish the locals’ works. The assistant priest immediately sees that this is in fact the great tempter. But as a newly arrived assistant priest, an outsider not trusted by the locals, he must wrestle this evil force alone, eventually persuading the town to disown the Devil.
Embedded in this ageless tale of good and evil, is a satire of the very modern phenomenon of universal literary ambition. Everyone in the town is a writer (few are readers), so when Fuchs arrives and panders to their vanity, the locals shower him with gifts and privileges. Only the assistant priest sees the publisher for what he is and sets out to expose him.
The idea of a publisher being the Devil, the source of temptation and corruption, is engaging and delivers such observations as: “The greater the number of people who dedicate themselves to the same creative activity, the more that activity declines.” I’m not entirely convinced that this is true, but it is intriguing and tempting to think that it could be so in contemporary literature.
The neatly arranged framing stories have points of similarity, which allows for a degree of mirroring and raises the notion that at least some of the narrators may be unreliable.
The setting and the theme of threats from the environment is reminiscent of Adalbert Shifter’s “Rock Crystal” or Jeremias Gotthelf’s “The Black Spider”. Located on the boundary between civilization and nature in the raw, between good and evil, the threat of evil in this tale is manifested by foxes carrying rabies. Then a man named Fuchs (German for Fox) arrives and offers to publish the locals’ works. The assistant priest immediately sees that this is in fact the great tempter. But as a newly arrived assistant priest, an outsider not trusted by the locals, he must wrestle this evil force alone, eventually persuading the town to disown the Devil.
Embedded in this ageless tale of good and evil, is a satire of the very modern phenomenon of universal literary ambition. Everyone in the town is a writer (few are readers), so when Fuchs arrives and panders to their vanity, the locals shower him with gifts and privileges. Only the assistant priest sees the publisher for what he is and sets out to expose him.
The idea of a publisher being the Devil, the source of temptation and corruption, is engaging and delivers such observations as: “The greater the number of people who dedicate themselves to the same creative activity, the more that activity declines.” I’m not entirely convinced that this is true, but it is intriguing and tempting to think that it could be so in contemporary literature.
The neatly arranged framing stories have points of similarity, which allows for a degree of mirroring and raises the notion that at least some of the narrators may be unreliable.
September 10, 2021
Affascinante fin dalle primissime pagine, questo libriccino vi travolgerà completamente.
In un paesino sperduto tra le montagne svizzere, tutti gli abitanti sembrano essere affetti dal "morbo della scrittura". Dal panettiere al postino, dalla casalinga all'insegnante di scuola elementare, tutti hanno lo stesso sogno nel cassetto: vedere la propria creazione (un romanzo, una raccolta di poesie, le proprio memorie) pubblicata. Ad influenzare i desideri dei paesani, una leggenda secondo la quale Goethe abbia alloggiato nella loro cittadina durante un viaggio, lasciandovi un segno indelebile.
A parte questa piccola stranezza, tuttavia, nulla sembrerebbe turbare la tranquillità ed i ritmi quotidiani ben delineati di Dichtersruhe; o almeno così vanno le cose fino a quando, una mattina, si presenta in paese un misterioso editore che subito rivela la sua intenzione di vedere pubblicate alcune delle storie che riposano nei cassetti. Un personaggio affascinante giunto da lontano nel momento giusto. E qui vi domando: in una cittadina dove tutti sono letteralmente ossessionato all'idea di veder pubblicato un proprio scritto, quale volto sceglierebbe di indossare il diavolo per andare a farsi un giretto da quelle parti?
E direi che non occorre aggiungere altro se non: leggetelo :) poche pagine da divorare.
In un paesino sperduto tra le montagne svizzere, tutti gli abitanti sembrano essere affetti dal "morbo della scrittura". Dal panettiere al postino, dalla casalinga all'insegnante di scuola elementare, tutti hanno lo stesso sogno nel cassetto: vedere la propria creazione (un romanzo, una raccolta di poesie, le proprio memorie) pubblicata. Ad influenzare i desideri dei paesani, una leggenda secondo la quale Goethe abbia alloggiato nella loro cittadina durante un viaggio, lasciandovi un segno indelebile.
A parte questa piccola stranezza, tuttavia, nulla sembrerebbe turbare la tranquillità ed i ritmi quotidiani ben delineati di Dichtersruhe; o almeno così vanno le cose fino a quando, una mattina, si presenta in paese un misterioso editore che subito rivela la sua intenzione di vedere pubblicate alcune delle storie che riposano nei cassetti. Un personaggio affascinante giunto da lontano nel momento giusto. E qui vi domando: in una cittadina dove tutti sono letteralmente ossessionato all'idea di veder pubblicato un proprio scritto, quale volto sceglierebbe di indossare il diavolo per andare a farsi un giretto da quelle parti?
E direi che non occorre aggiungere altro se non: leggetelo :) poche pagine da divorare.
October 26, 2025
Morsom liten sak!
November 10, 2024
3.5 ⭐️ The hot priest and the fox look different here
May 27, 2019
“It was strange that people who were so reserved and reticent, even toward their confessor, were willing to disclose their secrets provided there was a chance they would see them in print.”
The fictional village of Dichtersruhe is a charming location in the Swiss Alps. Popular with summer tourists, who enjoy walks in the local woods, it closes down during winter when just the long term residents are made to feel welcome. Many of the families have lived there for generations with links through marriage drawing them closer together. Yet they never discuss their shared, secret ambitions. Most of them are writers. They spend free time working on poems, essays, memoirs and novels. Manuscripts are regularly sent to the popular publishing houses and then reworked following rejection.
A new parish priest, Father Cornelius, arrives and struggles to fit in. From a teaching post at a seminary, he has been banished to this backwater following scurrilous accusations. The old priest has little time for the incomer, indeed for anything other than writing his memoirs. Then the accepted ways, the coexistence of gentle rivalries, are thrown into disarray by the arrival of another stranger. Bernhard Fuchs introduces himself as a publisher from Lucerne. Following fearful omens involving foxes, Cornelius recognises Fuchs as the devil incarnate.
“what is the key that is capable of forcing the mind of an aspiring writer who has tried everything without result?”
A Devil Comes to Town, by Paolo Maurensig (translated by Anne Milano Appel), is a short yet multi-layered take down of the conceits and jealousies of writers. There is darkness and tension in the tale but also humour in its observations. Opening with a renowned author clearing out the many manuscripts he has been sent by aspiring authors, all eager to have him read their work and thereby become its advocate, the story quickly focuses on a manuscript from an unknown writer regarding a strange tale told him by a priest many years before. Although somewhat meta this structural device offers the reader a picture of one of the prices of authorial success, and the lengths writers will go to if there is any chance of emulating or otherwise gaining from those who have already been published.
Some may deny it but writers wish to be read and revered. They have their egos and also deep rooted sensitivities. They struggle with continued rejection in favour of those whose work they remain unimpressed by. Those who achieve publication often castigate readers who fail to recognise the wonder of their work.
In Dichtersruhe the arrival of a publisher is grasped as an opportunity. The residents vie for the man’s attention, offering drinks, meals and other inducements in an attempt to curry notice and favour. When a writing competition is announced that will lead to inclusion in a published series, manuscripts are eagerly submitted. As these are filtered there is bitter division between residents whose work is rejected and those still being considered.
What happens when a winner is selected who no other writer believes is deserving?
The story told is fable like with nuggets of detail leading the reader to question the veracity of the various narrators. Authors often skate between truth and fiction, between writing what they know and pure invention. Is truth of any importance when the aim is to entertain?
And thus another layer is added to the unfolding tale: do writers truly behave like this? What are readers of this book being encouraged to believe?
The author has created a fabulous take down of the literati with a blending of fiction, reported rivalries and real world suspicion. It is a captivating, clever and deliciously teasing little tale.
The fictional village of Dichtersruhe is a charming location in the Swiss Alps. Popular with summer tourists, who enjoy walks in the local woods, it closes down during winter when just the long term residents are made to feel welcome. Many of the families have lived there for generations with links through marriage drawing them closer together. Yet they never discuss their shared, secret ambitions. Most of them are writers. They spend free time working on poems, essays, memoirs and novels. Manuscripts are regularly sent to the popular publishing houses and then reworked following rejection.
A new parish priest, Father Cornelius, arrives and struggles to fit in. From a teaching post at a seminary, he has been banished to this backwater following scurrilous accusations. The old priest has little time for the incomer, indeed for anything other than writing his memoirs. Then the accepted ways, the coexistence of gentle rivalries, are thrown into disarray by the arrival of another stranger. Bernhard Fuchs introduces himself as a publisher from Lucerne. Following fearful omens involving foxes, Cornelius recognises Fuchs as the devil incarnate.
“what is the key that is capable of forcing the mind of an aspiring writer who has tried everything without result?”
A Devil Comes to Town, by Paolo Maurensig (translated by Anne Milano Appel), is a short yet multi-layered take down of the conceits and jealousies of writers. There is darkness and tension in the tale but also humour in its observations. Opening with a renowned author clearing out the many manuscripts he has been sent by aspiring authors, all eager to have him read their work and thereby become its advocate, the story quickly focuses on a manuscript from an unknown writer regarding a strange tale told him by a priest many years before. Although somewhat meta this structural device offers the reader a picture of one of the prices of authorial success, and the lengths writers will go to if there is any chance of emulating or otherwise gaining from those who have already been published.
Some may deny it but writers wish to be read and revered. They have their egos and also deep rooted sensitivities. They struggle with continued rejection in favour of those whose work they remain unimpressed by. Those who achieve publication often castigate readers who fail to recognise the wonder of their work.
In Dichtersruhe the arrival of a publisher is grasped as an opportunity. The residents vie for the man’s attention, offering drinks, meals and other inducements in an attempt to curry notice and favour. When a writing competition is announced that will lead to inclusion in a published series, manuscripts are eagerly submitted. As these are filtered there is bitter division between residents whose work is rejected and those still being considered.
What happens when a winner is selected who no other writer believes is deserving?
The story told is fable like with nuggets of detail leading the reader to question the veracity of the various narrators. Authors often skate between truth and fiction, between writing what they know and pure invention. Is truth of any importance when the aim is to entertain?
And thus another layer is added to the unfolding tale: do writers truly behave like this? What are readers of this book being encouraged to believe?
The author has created a fabulous take down of the literati with a blending of fiction, reported rivalries and real world suspicion. It is a captivating, clever and deliciously teasing little tale.
March 22, 2018
Il diavolo è un editore
Terribile apologo sulla società letteraria e sulla cattiveria che vi si nasconde.
Un po' thriller, un po' gothic novel, un po' scatola cinese dalla quale emergono tre narratori. Il messaggio è chiaro:
"Più alto è il numero delle persone che si dedicano alla stessa attività creativa, tanto più questa decade... e quanto più un’arte decade, tanto maggiore è il numero delle persone che vi si dedicano". "La società letteraria è il luogo dove ogni vanagloria, alimentata dall’invidia, cresce a dismisura, dove anche il più banale dei pensieri – purché impresso a caratteri tipografici – viene accettato come verità assoluta".
Sempre pensato che si scrivano (e si pubblichino) troppi libri. Ci sono più scrittori che lettori, ormai.
Il diavolo nel cassetto è un buon libro. Dà l'impressione che l'autore abbia voluto, giocando, togliersi qualche sassolino dalle scarpe. Non raggiunge le vette ammalianti del suo bestseller -La variante di Lüneburg, eppure, anche in questo caso, chiarissima traspare la volontà di raccontare ancora una volta la lotta eterna tra Bene e Male.
Dice Maurensig :«La definirei piuttosto una parabola sul mondo letterario, perché credo che alla fin fine gli scrittori si odino un po’ tutti. Ma attenzione: come le altre vie per raggiungere il successo, anche la scrittura può essere pericolosa; si rischia sempre di vendere l’anima al diavolo, anche se ormai i diavoli sono soltanto dei poveri diavoli e il mio editore è un diavolo da operetta... D’altra parte non è per caso che Faust è un archetipo così duraturo. Il mistero è: perché dobbiamo lasciare a tutti i costi una pietra scolpita?».
Tre stellette e mezzo
Terribile apologo sulla società letteraria e sulla cattiveria che vi si nasconde.
Un po' thriller, un po' gothic novel, un po' scatola cinese dalla quale emergono tre narratori. Il messaggio è chiaro:
"Più alto è il numero delle persone che si dedicano alla stessa attività creativa, tanto più questa decade... e quanto più un’arte decade, tanto maggiore è il numero delle persone che vi si dedicano". "La società letteraria è il luogo dove ogni vanagloria, alimentata dall’invidia, cresce a dismisura, dove anche il più banale dei pensieri – purché impresso a caratteri tipografici – viene accettato come verità assoluta".
Sempre pensato che si scrivano (e si pubblichino) troppi libri. Ci sono più scrittori che lettori, ormai.
Il diavolo nel cassetto è un buon libro. Dà l'impressione che l'autore abbia voluto, giocando, togliersi qualche sassolino dalle scarpe. Non raggiunge le vette ammalianti del suo bestseller -La variante di Lüneburg, eppure, anche in questo caso, chiarissima traspare la volontà di raccontare ancora una volta la lotta eterna tra Bene e Male.
Dice Maurensig :«La definirei piuttosto una parabola sul mondo letterario, perché credo che alla fin fine gli scrittori si odino un po’ tutti. Ma attenzione: come le altre vie per raggiungere il successo, anche la scrittura può essere pericolosa; si rischia sempre di vendere l’anima al diavolo, anche se ormai i diavoli sono soltanto dei poveri diavoli e il mio editore è un diavolo da operetta... D’altra parte non è per caso che Faust è un archetipo così duraturo. Il mistero è: perché dobbiamo lasciare a tutti i costi una pietra scolpita?».
Tre stellette e mezzo
August 18, 2021
3,5
Il peccato preferito del diavolo è la vanità.
Lo dice Al Pacino in quel bellissimo film che è L'avvocato del diavolo; lo racconta Maurensig costruendo magistralmente una favola nera per adulti, Il diavolo nel cassetto:
"Che cosa induce la gente a scrivere, se non un vago timore di non aver fatto abbastanza per garantirsi un seguito di vita? Per questo bisogna mostrarsi, far circolare il proprio nome, la propria immagine, riflettersi negli occhi degli altri e, da lì, imprimersi indelebilmente sulla lastra metafisica dell'universo, facilitando così l'Onnipotente nel rimettere a posto i pezzi del meccano il giorno della resurrezione. L'umanità intera coltiva questa folle speranza. E la parola è il mezzo ideale".
Al diavolo si può anche non credere, ma è fuor di dubbio che la vanità sia "un oppiaceo naturale" per l'umanità intera: tutti, chi più chi meno, ci lasciamo irretire dal suo fascino e dalle sue promesse. E i social non sono forse la massima espressione di questo imperante narcisismo?
Dopo aver finito questo breve libriccino mi sono chiesta in quale misura ciò che facciamo su instagram -anche noi che abbiamo pagine dedicate prevalentemente ai libri- sia dettato dal desiderio di mostrare, apparire, sentirsi meglio di altri, ecc.
Per quanto mi riguarda, non ho vergogna ad ammettere che c'è anche questo nel calderone di motivazioni che contribuiscono in modo più o meno consapevole a farmi stare qui. Ma è una domanda che vi rilancio, amici, a mo' di provocazione perché sono curiosa di sapere anche le vostre riflessioni in merito.
E, se non lo avete già fatto, vi consiglio di recuperare libriccino e film (io bimba di Al Pacino per sempre).
Il peccato preferito del diavolo è la vanità.
Lo dice Al Pacino in quel bellissimo film che è L'avvocato del diavolo; lo racconta Maurensig costruendo magistralmente una favola nera per adulti, Il diavolo nel cassetto:
"Che cosa induce la gente a scrivere, se non un vago timore di non aver fatto abbastanza per garantirsi un seguito di vita? Per questo bisogna mostrarsi, far circolare il proprio nome, la propria immagine, riflettersi negli occhi degli altri e, da lì, imprimersi indelebilmente sulla lastra metafisica dell'universo, facilitando così l'Onnipotente nel rimettere a posto i pezzi del meccano il giorno della resurrezione. L'umanità intera coltiva questa folle speranza. E la parola è il mezzo ideale".
Al diavolo si può anche non credere, ma è fuor di dubbio che la vanità sia "un oppiaceo naturale" per l'umanità intera: tutti, chi più chi meno, ci lasciamo irretire dal suo fascino e dalle sue promesse. E i social non sono forse la massima espressione di questo imperante narcisismo?
Dopo aver finito questo breve libriccino mi sono chiesta in quale misura ciò che facciamo su instagram -anche noi che abbiamo pagine dedicate prevalentemente ai libri- sia dettato dal desiderio di mostrare, apparire, sentirsi meglio di altri, ecc.
Per quanto mi riguarda, non ho vergogna ad ammettere che c'è anche questo nel calderone di motivazioni che contribuiscono in modo più o meno consapevole a farmi stare qui. Ma è una domanda che vi rilancio, amici, a mo' di provocazione perché sono curiosa di sapere anche le vostre riflessioni in merito.
E, se non lo avete già fatto, vi consiglio di recuperare libriccino e film (io bimba di Al Pacino per sempre).
Displaying 1 - 30 of 225 reviews