Al di là: romanzo

In the late spring of 1875, a restless young man wanders through Bologna’s austere Piazza d’Armi, his hurried stride betraying a mind weighed down by unseen concerns. He climbs the ordered Montagnola, a promenade of uniform trees that feels more like a solemn cemetery than a garden, and pauses on a lonely bench to observe the city’s rigid symmetry and the muted life that passes beneath it. The air is bright yet heavy with a melancholy that mirrors his own inner turbulence.

From this quiet perch he pulls out a notebook, the tip of his pencil moving feverishly as he begins to capture fragments of thought that have long lingered beneath the surface. As the city’s genteel façades blur into the background, his reflections turn to the tension between imagination and the apathetic attitudes of those around him, hinting at a deeper quest for meaning in a world that prizes order over feeling.