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"They love" by G. Clerics



They love
Gianluca Chierici

Necklace Babel Suite
Perdisa Pop, 2010 ISBN 978-88-837-2498-5


In Library from September 15.

"If the drawings were just like my dreams, it was because the hand that he had done could not reproduce them exactly, but one thing was clear, we saw the same places. "

The places of childhood, age of unconsciousness by definition, are the problem to be solved, the riddle of yellow tinged with black. But not only. We learn that faith and despair are alike in this modern pop version of the myth of Diana and Actaeon. If Diana is above the figure reveals a double strand that links love and death. The very root of the name is in the Latin word "DIUS" which recalls the light of day but at night the goddess Diana. So much so that, as identified in its lunar event, was the object of worship in Italian witchcraft. Witches and gruesome murders, scary woods lost and clinics, are the backdrop to the loneliness of two children. The mystery linked to the disappearance of their parents, the blink of memories in doubt, dark presence, and hallucinations. We would like to run away but we can not even move a muscle, we want to scream but the voice does not come out. A maze of indecipherable symbols. As we see in a dream an expansion, an expansion of time and space, to a shift of roles, to a continuous exchange of names and people, and all without the surreal scene as never lacking in logic. At least until the dream ends when we discover that dream. If this is the end of the things that often we judge things themselves. We turn and look back in retrospect that things have changed as if they had never been as we thought. If a love is gone means that it was not true love, this could be the error. As if to say that the whole idea could be the explanation. Not the explanation, the only possible, but what we will be satisfied from time to time when not find any other explanation. Admit that "the bottom man is a woman, and basically the woman is a man," for example. Admit that love is a dream and, for once, give up the dream of asking who is who.



John Catalano