Pantheon, 223 pp., $22.00
For the European novel in general and for the Milan publisher Feltrinelli in particular, 1957 and 1958 were two anni mirabiles in a row. First he brought out Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago, then Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa's Il Gattopardo. One came from Russia, the other from Sicily—neither of them points on the literary horizon where the next comet was particularly expected at the time. And they were certainly comets: one of a kind, unforeseen, instantly recognizable as amazing—and instantly translated into every conceivable literary language. They have two other things in common: neither is experimental in form, or avant-garde, and both have lasted.
Review, 2929 words
To read the full text of this piece, please choose one of the following options:
|
If you are already a subscriber to the Review's electronic edition, please sign in: |
To subscribe to the electronic edition, please press the button below. |
To purchase access to this article for $3, please press the button below. |