The flight as a metaphor for life, a part destined never to enter. Nunzio Festa Kataweb.it
When he returned to Venice after a few months of exile, Sacredo Francesco, a young nobleman of good family, discovers that her father has gambled away their entire fortune. Countess Mathilde von Wallestein, blind and sneaky German carnivorous, he was removed to its last sequin. Embittered by the inconsistency of his father, a fat disgusting, vulgar and profligate, Francesco starts, however, in an attempt which he knows in advance that it will be as fatal as futile, and at least as bad, if not more than what his father would have been able to undertake: he accepts, on a gamble, to play its own person to attempt to recover his property to the evil Countess. He loses. But rather than give her body to the winner as agreed, he fled as soon pursued by the assassins of the German, the brothers Podesta, formidable assassins cunning and obstinate. So this continues it partita size, so to speak, the rhythm of the rat race Francesco across the states of eighteenth-century Italy plunged into a frigid winter. North by Northwest, the young man, reduced to the status of outlaw condemned to flee again and again, a task yet to return blow for blow to the countess, invisible and distant but still on his heels, played with him, it seems, as one would a puppet. Required to use the scarce resources available to it, he weaves machinations and pitfalls - he knows such use seduction as needed - but stumbles, or exhausted, revolts sometimes, to start over again moving on a chessboard whose parts are made of flesh and blood. As if this game of life and death would never end.
Source: editions Anacharsis
When he returned to Venice after a few months of exile, Sacredo Francesco, a young nobleman of good family, discovers that her father has gambled away their entire fortune. Countess Mathilde von Wallestein, blind and sneaky German carnivorous, he was removed to its last sequin. Embittered by the inconsistency of his father, a fat disgusting, vulgar and profligate, Francesco starts, however, in an attempt which he knows in advance that it will be as fatal as futile, and at least as bad, if not more than what his father would have been able to undertake: he accepts, on a gamble, to play its own person to attempt to recover his property to the evil Countess. He loses. But rather than give her body to the winner as agreed, he fled as soon pursued by the assassins of the German, the brothers Podesta, formidable assassins cunning and obstinate. So this continues it partita size, so to speak, the rhythm of the rat race Francesco across the states of eighteenth-century Italy plunged into a frigid winter. North by Northwest, the young man, reduced to the status of outlaw condemned to flee again and again, a task yet to return blow for blow to the countess, invisible and distant but still on his heels, played with him, it seems, as one would a puppet. Required to use the scarce resources available to it, he weaves machinations and pitfalls - he knows such use seduction as needed - but stumbles, or exhausted, revolts sometimes, to start over again moving on a chessboard whose parts are made of flesh and blood. As if this game of life and death would never end.
Source: editions Anacharsis
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