Brandelli

In the bitter winter of 1868 a young law graduate finds himself thrust onto the podium of the grand university hall, clutching a bizarre thesis assigned by a professor who hands out numbered balls from an oversized sack. The ceremony is a surreal mix of academic pomp, drunken camaraderie, and a clumsy, tongue‑in‑cheek defense that somehow earns full marks. Through this odd introduction we glimpse a mind that relishes sarcasm, rhetorical fireworks, and a fierce disdain for the solemnity of traditional scholarship.

Beyond the lecture hall, the narrator plunges into a restless literary world, rejecting the polished verses of contemporary Italian poets and the sanctified tones of religious hymnody. He devours French poetry, crafts his own bitter, anti‑clerical verses in slippers, and wrestles with the fierce urge to tear apart the works of revered authors. This early rebellion sets the stage for a journey that will test his convictions, his friendships, and his place in a society still clinging to old ideals.