Carlo Levi, a young anti-fascist with a medical degree who chose to paint, write and oppose Mussolini rather than to practice medicine, was exiled in the 1930s to what was then called Lucania and is now known as Basilicata. The area was and is one of the poorest regions of Italy. The people of the village in the mountains in which he spent most of a year said that they were so isolated that even Christianity stopped before it reached them.

Levi, a native of Turin, could hardly have been sent to a more remote area or one more different from his city in northern Italy. Yet, he thoughtfully and affectionately tells the story of the superstitions, political maneuvering,love, hope, despair and unending hard work of the locals. The people and the place take on life through Levi's descriptions. As was Levi's departure, coming to the end of the book is bittersweet. ( )

This is Captain Corelli’s Mandolin meets Walden if you can imagine that. For those who’ve not read either or one of those novels I’d better explain. In fact, thinking about it, I may well be the only person who has ever read both. I’ll satisfy myself with that status until someone comments otherwise

Well, for those who haven’t read either of the aforementioned, simply click the links and read the reviews. For those who have, this is a memoir Levi wrote about a time in the mid 1930s. It describes a year in exile during the Abyssinian War when he was sent to a remote village just above the arch of the boot of Italy.

It relates to the Mandolin because...

Just how does it relate? Click to read the rest of the review at Arukiyomi. ( )

This is a famous piece of reportage, about poverty in the village in the instep of Southern Italy to which Carlo Levi was exiled as a political prisoner. It's much less angry than I was expecting (at least the first half) - indeed, some of it is almost comic, although the comedy evaporates when you think that it's real lives that are marred by the incompetent doctor, the venal policeman or the alcoholic schoolmaster. Levi portrays the villagers as disconnected from both history and politics, both of which appear to the villagers as the workings of uncaring fate (being sent to war; having to slaughter your goats to pay your taxes).

If the book had a flaw, it was that the language was almost too poetic - even when Levi is trying to convey the bleak, barren landscape.

(I only managed to read half this book, while I was staying in the house of its owner). ( )

I love this book; it is one of my favourite of all times.

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