Absorbed in pity. On Aurelio Picca, a writer in struggle

I owe a lot to Aurelio Picca. He doesn’t know it. When I read one of his stories, in the Nineties, in the literary magazine “Clandestino” (I think it was called La mano), a whole new world opened up to me, which fell on top of me. I didn’t think you could write like that. I was amazed by the freedom, and by the direct way of entering into the material, I was surprised by the level of expression. The images were almost sculpted, I would say in vi…