Bøger af Adriana Comaschi

Opening this book, a reader might wonder, Why a book about the Dolomites legends? Because... To answer this question is at the same time easy and very, very difficult, but perhaps the explanation can be condensed into just one word. Nostalgia. Nostalgia for that lost universe I always felt had existed long ago among those mountains, and which still exists now just in a few verses and stories-often confused and fragmentary, but no less fascinating because of this- and nostalgia for the bespectacled, insistent young girl I used to be in summers now long past when, armed with a pen and notebook, I pestered all the-more or less patient-Fassans who were unlucky enough to meet me, in order to get to know more from them. I wanted to know more about those stories I could feel still hovering on the peaks, in the valleys, in the local traditions and, at times, even in the geographical names; those same stories I later found in books by Wolff and a few other authors, such as Valentini, Garobbio and Lunelli, whose works, however, far from extinguishing my curiosity only fanned it all the more. Alas, more years than I care to count have gone by since those days, and in the meanwhile I have found other interesting books and learned studies about Ladinia; I have also discovered wonderful songs linked to the old traditions, but while my head was dutifully registering and classifying all those new data, down in my soul I kept harboring the heartbreaking feeling that something had been irretrievably lost, and that more keeps vanishing, washed away by the maelstrom of time. These are, perhaps, feelings and emotions fit only for a child, and as a matter of fact, I behaved just like I used to do as a child, when I would get to the end of a book I really loved with the feeling that there was more in it that I had not been able to capture and decipher: I told myself some of these stories-again, and my own way. Almost independently from my conscious will, as I went about this re-telling, the legendary elements in the stories intermingled with "learned" details coming from studies, readings and research, in tune with the long established habits of that curious young girl, now grown up and aged.

"Il silenzio non si addice a Basmadan."L'uomo che aveva formulato con acredine quel pensiero stava osservando l'immensa città in avvicinamento. Nel buio della notte, quand'anche non fosse stato per i fuochi sulle mura, si sarebbe potuta vedere per le mille finestre illuminate. Il vento trasportava lungo l'acqua l'eco di musiche e voci. La piccola imbarcazione su cui viaggiava scivolava rapida lungo la corrente del grande fiume Fraghijan e presto avrebbe raggiunto le mura della capitale della Tirannia di Agmadar."Affilate le spade e trattenete il respiro. Torna a farci sognare la signora del fantasy italiano" Alfonso Zarbo

Il Rinnegato La vita, e solo la vita, è ciò che le Isole Dorate hanno concesso all'Artiglio di Fuoco, condannato all'esilio perpetuo, ma non c'è pace per l'esule. Nelle Isole Dorate, la Prima Consacrata, Aleja, spinta dagli spaventosi fenomeni che stanno sconvolgendo le Isole e tutta Thelene, ha interpellato le Tre Pietre Sacre, le quali hanno vaticinato che solo W'Unker potrà... forse... mettere fine a quegli eventi, poiché lui stesso ne è stato la causa prima. Si rende quindi necessario rintracciare l'Esiliato, se è ancora in vita, per chiedergli di tornare in patria. Altri eventi però incalzano, e mentre Gofrid si lascia ammaliare dalla bella Lahmar, pedina di un gioco ostile, c'è chi, pur senza speranza di riscatto, si appresta a sostenere un'ultima, disperata battaglia contro forze più che umane, avendo come unico appoggio colui che era stato il suo più acerrimo nemico.