Donna Ester: Perché la sorte ci stronca così, come canne?
Efix: Sì, siamo proprio come le canne al vento [...]! Siamo canne, e la sorte è il vento.
Donna Ester: Why does fate crush us like that, like reeds?
Efix: Yes, we are just like the reeds in the wind [...]! We are reeds, and fate is the wind.
Sometimes I suspect that an author, to deserve to be a Nobel Prize winner, must be difficult to understand. This book in a some way confirms my hypothesis. It's not complicated, no, it's actually very simple, but it's open to so many interpretations, that in the end I can't say that I really understood it. To be clear: this is not a negative trait, quite the contrary: I liked the book!
The reeds in the wind in the title are Efix and his three mistresses, the last heirs of a fallen family, they are their neighbors and relatives, we all are, reeds beaten by the wind of fate.
Fascinating fresco of Sardinia from the beginning of the last century with fever, prejudice, honor, guilt, and superstition. A superstition so alive and present in everyone's life that it was fascinating even for someone like me that usually abhors this topic. Along with all this, a nature that is still powerful and alive and present and beautiful, that changes with the seasons and accompanies our Efix both in his pilgrimages and in its stops.
A pleasant and very satisfying reading.