Thousands of poor people were evicted, pushed to the outskirts of the city. Then one day, tall cranes arrived and, in the silence of the abandoned neighbourhood, began to tear down the buildings with a series of heavy thuds. A vast cloud of dust rose from the rubble. Just like the one, fifteen years later, from bombed-out Milan 

Children want what they are made to want. Parents, on the other hand, leave me perplexed: just what are they putting into their children’s hands? Halloween is a festival of death, yet they reply that ‘it’s just a game’. 

It is not exactly a house move; it is a clear-out. Phase one in emptying an old house. Before tackling the furniture, we need to get rid of the dead weight: fifty years’ worth of dusty bits and bobs

Beyond beauty and music. Impressions of Milan in early autumn: a ship in celebration that fails to see the iceberg ahead of its bow

Photos from a bygone era, with great emotional impact. To be handled with care. They can be distressing

Weeks of stifling heat, without a breath of wind. Humidity through the roof, mosquitoes having a field day. Then, from France, the rain arrived

That man, bent over, rummaging through a bin. An almost Franciscan echo. He smiles, mysteriously, in the empty city

Different generations come together at the keys of the typewriter. Letting the type bars cross paths, deleting the wrong sentences and moving the carriage back

A review of Elio Vittorini’s book, published by Bompiani, 140 pp., €11.40

I woke up at dawn in Gallura: everything was so radiant. I felt dazed, as if after a CT scan that tells you exactly what’s inside you