Paola Capriolo

The story of the artist who gets too involved in his work and starts to value art over life is an old one but Capriolo gives it a couple twists in her well-written and slightly creepy book. Vulpius, an actor in a provincial theater company, becomes obsessed with an unknown woman in the audience who appears to be looking only at him. Unable to discover her identity, he devotes himself to perfecting his role but gradually alienates the audience, the other actors, his girlfriend Dora and show more humanity in general. The boundaries between reality and illusion start to blur for Vulpius, who finds everyday life a pale imitation of the theater. The story is tense and addictive but also meditative; spare but lush; with a straightforward plot but an ambiguous and elusive meaning. Capriolo’s narrative is overt and frequently calls attention to the artifice of the story but it fits well with the overall theme.

Vulpius becomes obsessed with the craft of acting but not in the crazy, passionate Method way – instead he has cold, theoretical ideas which are more about repetitive rituals, transformation and a more perfect approximation of reality. He forces Dora to take part in his obsession in some slightly disturbing scenes. It’s almost like an abusive relationship except that his abuse is so bizarre and, as the narrator notes, he’s not cruel but coldly indifferent to other people’s thoughts and feelings. In his efforts to plumb the depths of the theater, Vulpius becomes an observer like the unknown woman. He also replicates her role as a tormenting specter – he can’t get her out of his mind and obsesses over her; likewise, he becomes a disturbing presence in the cheery actors’ company and regularly torments Dora. In the empty theater, he is almost like a priest of his own weird domain. In fact, the author explicitly draws comparisons with the church. At the opening of the season, Vulpius makes a memorable visit there and another significant scene takes place at the church. The statues and supports in the rococo theater are reminiscent of the ornately decorated church and Vulpius’ obsession with the rituals of the theater, empty or significant, have their counterparts in the church. Life and death are regularly played out on the stage and are of course the main functions of the church. The play that is performed at the opening is Don Juan which turns out to be very appropriate. Vulpius, in his cold detachment, is more like the stone statue which brings destruction than any of the living characters.

Capriolo has an idiosyncratic style – at once omniscient and limited. The narrator is overt about her role and there’s a verisimilitude in her describing that the story is only one possible explanation of what really happened to Vulpius, Dora and the company. There are frequent interruptions of the story, comments on what will happen or what has happened, speculations about what would happen if only something was changed or regret at the way things turned out. The view changes from the narrator to Vulpius or Dora and often these shifts are noted by the narrator. This style will not be for all tastes but fits well with the story. The artifice of the narrative echoes the artifice of the theater and the narrator is also a sometimes controlling observer. There is a strong use of symbolism but it is brought up simply and is not intrusive. In addition to the conscious commentary on the narrative, Capriolo favors long, complex, ornamented sentences. I don’t think her style is for everyone but it worked very well for me. show less

Un libro ricco di simbologie nascoste in storie "semplici", quasi fiabesche. Una grande narratrice, e' un peccato che le sue ultime opere non siano piu' dello stesso livello.

Un libro misterioso ed emozionante, che ti lascia una sensazione di inquietudine e un brivido di piacere addosso. Il fascino di una storia fuori dal tempo, in cui l'eleganza dello stile si fonde perfettamente con il senso dell'indicibile.