Saturday, February 12, 2011


If these men were wines:

Salman Rushdie is almost Moscato at times,  light and playful, in The Enchantress of Florence.  His Verses, much maligned; though, like Dante, he was getting back at lots of folks, for lots of good reasons. He rocks with an arugula salad, sprinkles of hazelnuts, shavings of pecorino. Or, a deep curry.

Pirandello is darker, moodier, a robust Angiovese, lingering with you through your entire meal of pasta bolognese, and a rack of lamb with new potatoes.  He's the South, I feel, the South of Italy the way I remember, dark, fierce, full of concerns and traditions that pop up whenever you try to get too comfortable. 

Kundera is a breath of fresh air, a young Pinot Grigio, full of hints, peaches and pears, and a hint of shadowy truffle. Best with stroganoff, with light sourcream and lots and lots of mushrooms. I want then to lie in bed for the afternoon, or in a hammock under a big oak and talk trash with the likes of Kant.


  1. As I change pictures, I shall explain the composition as I see it.

    The previous one, cars stuck in traffic in front of a schoolhouse, (in Paris,btw), seen through a window, shadows and reflections alol jumpled, that one was my state of mind at the beginning of this project.

    I have no plans of changing.
    It just happens.

  2. How intriguing and imagistic to compare these men to wines--and then to create a menu to further taste and feel them. This is wonderful!

  3. Sono passato per augurarti una buona giornata con un sorriso.

  4. Ann, sometimes I get the urge to play.
    Dual, ciao. Ti ringrazio per la visita.

  5. i agree with ann -- how utterly intriguing and creative rosaria -- i can already tell that this blog is going to be one enjoyable ride....

  6. i wiish i could say i've read these authors, but that would be a lie.