Nietzsche and the Burbs, in Italian translation.
Review: PDE
At the public school in Wokingham it is time for the Old Mole, the economics professor with her inevitable graphs on government bonds, the performance of the stock exchanges, the real estate bubble. What do they mean? she asks, smiling grimly. Art, Paula, Merv, Chandra, apocalyptic last year students, put forward their catastrophic interpretations: hyperinflation, stagflation, financial despotism, resource destruction, and then fascism, trade wars, real wars… The Old Mole continues to grin. And what can be done? The newcomer raises his hand. He comes from Trafalgar College. Serious stuff, elegant buildings, elegant gardens, elegantly fenced to keep the proletarians out. Stuff a whole continent away from Wokingham and its suburban school. He looks like someone who has charisma, the new, indeed one who is not interested in having charisma and who, precisely for this reason, has charisma. Nothing, he says, that everything goes down the drain, the economy is the problem, the economy devalues everything that matters.
This is how the most apocalyptic of all of them announces himself to the small group of apocalyptic protagonists of these pages: Nietzsche the nihilist, the boy whose primary need is not to be dead and not to carry the corpse of a world that, according to him, is in irreparable ruin. It is a fateful meeting for Art, Paula, Merv and Chandra. They are not like the insatiable and inert losers who are always checking the phone, always gorging themselves, consuming; they want to lift the stones, question everything, leaving nothing intact. They have a band and they would like to do something new, play the end of things, the music of the ashes, the music after the music. This is why they would like to become philosophers, suburban philosophers, philosophers of Wokingham and the Thames valley! Could Nietzsche be their man, who came to open the heart of the nihilistic storm?
Publisher's blurb