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Tu mio di Erri De Luca

There are stories that have no words to be told, remain buried like seeds that can not bear fruit, but only pain. They remain locked inside the mind of someone who lived like that become bottlenecks for memory maze where you could always get lost. Better not go into. In order not to disturb others, not to break with his "Inconvenient Truth in the world of chasing the carelessness and perhaps would not be able to understand. Better to remain silent to avoid being overwhelmed.

" Caia saved us. - Says the star of the fine book by De Luca: You, my - has endured things that no account balance, did not want to tell us that we are the boys on holiday an island in the summer and we do not know anything about Jews, Germans. We were too small. Even she was, but she took away everything. All of us, not just me, even adults were small for her. He learned that is not to say anything. "

But it is also true that some stories do not come out because there are spaces where the play is at home, where he is ready to accept and understand the truth that, in their severity and reality, could change the way we see life, they could ask questions which reveals how the "evil" man is always with us and within us:

" I'd rather not say anything .

Daniel says the younger cousin. ... damn that girl, too hard for me to become accustomed to this beautiful island with fishing boats, the guitar, the holidays. And all of a sudden in a place blessed and scarred for life asleep tick the one that looks like us. " But his cousin, a boy of sixteen years, however, wants to know: and the answers "Yes, Daniel, it seems like we can succeed and even tell his life" and asks a question "Really, Daniel , really even better than we were last in knowing who we had the opportunity to meet? We know a fish in the sea, the stars in the sky and we have to ignore people on earth? ".

And the question, through the voice of this guy poses De Luca, it's really a reflection of what most of the time and we are, unfortunately, many intellectuals who know, know so many things that are dying to know, but when it comes to listening to stories that might disturb in the true sense of the word, or worse, turn their backs so that they drop silence.

not that the guy who tells the story of "You, me, who wants to know the war just ended, which asks questions and leaves no respite for the adults who have lived but who want to leave it behind:

"I was the only person interested in those stories. After the war had hardened on the living silence, a callus on the skin of the war dead. They wanted to live in a new world. " Turn the page, so carefree living, forget about a past too uncomfortable. Stay away from those memories, here is the most common commitment of the people.

Nicholas, the fisherman who goes to sea is the only one to talk to him. Go with him on a boat and teaches him the art of fishing and the secrets of the sea, but with simple words and reveals the true horrors of that period and especially of those women who had asked him and his friends help:

"They were drunk, they asked us to save the children, we put them in their arms to us Italian soldiers che eravamo i nemici e noi non potevamo fare niente."

Ed era ebrea anche Caia che, approdata nell'isola dove si svolge la storia del libro, si unisce ai ragazzi spensierati della sue età confondendosi fra di loro e conquistando il cuore di quel ragazzo che sta crescendo, più piccolo di lei, ma che possiede già una sensibilità speciale che lo rende "più vecchio".

Il libro narra l’estate di un’adolescente nel dopoguerra che si sente “ su un precipizio di sentimenti” , il suo incontro con Gaia e con il suo segreto, ma anche con il mare e la pesca, con Nicola, col cugino e lo zio. Di un ragazzo che diventerà in one summer, "man."

A boy taken by the splendor of the island in the middle of summer, the sea that runs through several times with Nicola or to fish with his uncle, always attentive ears and the heart that reality has become the past, but still in existence of many men and women it is so curious.

But ask him why are you so interested in stories of the war?

" - Why is your story, we learn from the only voice and not from books . - A vrei wanted to add that it was the only one I could bring to account, because there were still witnesses, victims and escaped executioners in full health. (…) E io dovevo chiedere e chiedere a chi non voleva più rispondere e intanto la storia spazzava via la polvere insieme alla cenere dei bruciati e crescevano le foreste sulle fosse comuni e tutta la vita spingeva innanzi e nascondeva dietro. E io m'impuntavo come un asino senza ragione perché gli asini si ribellano all'eccesso di carico e io invece non ne avevo”.

Taceva solo di fronte a quella frase pronunciata da Nicola: "noi non potevamo fare niente."

Niente. Quella parola risuonava nel cuore del ragazzo in tutta la sua crudezza: " tu solo Nicola, riuscivi a dire questa parola scavandola dentro all'impotenza, al terrore: niente, ci sono dei niente che non si staccano more ".

That fatalism with which many men simply accept life as it appeared:

" There was war, as is the southwest wind, drought, the season pass without tuna. There was: a single word was holding all the evil and the good that happens to men .

a nothing and a fatalism, however, he fails to accept and perhaps we should not. No, we should never say We can not do anything.