One, No One and One Houndred Thousand - Luigi Pirandello (Book) ~ ☕☕☕☕☕

Hello everyone!

What's up?
First of all, I think I should introduce myself.
So, I am the person in charge to make the reviews about the books - or movies, TV series and so on - made by the other authors (Pirandello, Pennac, Verne, Jackson...).
I want to add that, unfortunately, I did not find this book in English so I translated the quotes.

Well, now I think it is time to start with this review!

As you probably deduced from the title, today I am going to review one of the masterpieces of the dear Pirandello.
Yep, because - shame on me - I have not read it yet!
Unbelievable, I know.

But, let's go in order.

 "- What are you doing? - my wife asked [...] - I believed you was looking to which side it slopes.

I turned as a dog whose tail someone stepped on:

- It slopes? To me? The nose?

And my wife, peacefully:

- Of course, dear. Look at it right: it slopes to the right."

This is how the Vitangelo Moscarda's world suddenly collapsed.
This is how Luigi Pirandello decides to upset the world of who is reading his work.

Why am I saying that?
Because, thanks to his wife's simple observation, Moscarda understands everyone looks at him with a different way, every others' Vitangelo is not the Vitangelo he thinks to be. 

So the experiments of our protagonist - who decides to slowly knock down all the Vitangelo made by the other people in order to make only his Moscarda survive and count for everyone else - start.
But during these experiments he becomes aware of a terrible truth:

"I had to realize that in my eyes there was not really a sight about me. [...] In their view, I as I, I was no one.
Only in their view? For me too."

And then... What to do?
If you cannot know who you are except through the others' eyes, how can Vitangelo claim to change the way people see him?

Being aware to be or no-one or one hundred thousand where will lead him?
There is only one answer.

And Pirandello, with his terse simplicity, give us it at the end of this delirious philosophical digression.

The Pirandello's philosophical side has already shown in The Late Mattia Pascal, but in this book it reveals itself in all his genius.

Vitangelo Moscarda understands that each of us is a slave of the idea the others has about him and each of us tries to get rid of it.
But you cannot create objectivity in a subjective reality, you cannot claim to be only ONE for everybody while everybody thinks of you in a different way. You just can't.

And if you refuse all this, you can only reach the "destruction", the aware fragmentation of yourself.
As Pirandello wisely recalls, even our name traps us in this reality. 

Life does not conclude. 

And Life knows nothing of names.

This tree, tremulous pulse of new leaves. I am this tree. 

Tree, cloud, tomorrow, book or wind: the book I read, the wind I drink. 

All outside, wandering.

I cannot reveal anything else.
It is a book you have to read tasting every single detail, every single word, losing yourself in the delirium of the Gengè's discoveries.

It is a book bound to revolutionize our outlook on the world. Bound to make us think about a lot of details we used to take for granted.

What else I could say except READ IT?
Yes, seriously, read it.
It does not worth it, more.

I can guarantee it.

Dostoevskij

P.S. I wanted to leave you with a last Pirandello's goody that make me think for a long time. 

"It was the same scream of all the crowd there in front of the door: 

- Mad! Mad! Mad! 

Because I wanted to prove, that I could, for the others too, not be what they believed I was."

How many times we let a hasty judgment lead us just because it is happening something inconceivable in OUR opinion?