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Handbook of conversation, Achille Campanile

Achille Campanile is one of my favorite authors since our first "meeting", when, around 14 years to cheer up a week of fever, my mother gave me "In Campaign another thing. "
For those unfamiliar with this author, this is the largest Italian humorist of the twentieth century. I can already feel fine serious people who mumble (I've already been) Ah, humor, trinkets from Zelig, certainly not great literature. Anyone who says such a thing does not know Campanile. In this author the joke, the pun, the double meaning (still very modest, by today's standards) become.
A significant percentage of his books is just so, to laugh to tears, unable to stop, perhaps alone in bed, creating a perfect interlude of being inside the bustle of everyday life.
Then there are books like this. Intimate and personal reflections on life and the world.
When you read the "Handbook of conversation," you laugh a little. He smiles a lot, however, finding in the words of its author's many unspoken thoughts, the tenderness that binds to the past, much of their daily lives. In some cases a small tear roll down his cheek, while recognizing the correctness and universality of some bitter reflections.
Although I prefer to read the Campanile ridanciano consider this book a collection of many small jewels, which shed light on this, in my opinion, a great author. Campanile's laughter does not arise from the shallowness of those who are always happy, but the full knowledge the difficulties of life, believing that the only weapon we possess to make the problems more bearable and your smile.

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The chair n.30, Ellery Queen

As I said before I taste very limited in terms of Cards: I like Conan Doyle, Ellery Queen, Rex Stout, Agatha Christie, Georges Simenon, Erle Stanley Gardner, Daniela Comastri Montanari, E. .. Isaac Asimov, of course! The authors do not know them, when I tried to read a thriller that fell outside the list of writers I've always said girder bad, so I will continue this way unless the advice (always welcome:))
Ellery Queen very much, even if I do not appreciate all his books the same way, in fact sometimes I find I'm exaggerating a bit, giving a tone of 'excessive and surreal (as in the novel "And on the eighth day ..."). The chair
No 30 I found it cute, but not great. A crime occurred in a theater during the performance of a show. Everything revolves around a missing detail: the cylinder of the victim. Interesting, but I've read better.

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study in red, by Arthur Conan Doyle

As a teenager I was crazy about Sherlock Holmes. I liked her very scientific way to solve cases, its aura of "superhero" and even the gloomy atmosphere and a 'Gothic' of his novels (which normally abhor). I read several stories, and The Hound of the Baskervilles. Some time later I found this book at the home of Uncle Indiana, one night I slept there, and I decided to read it. I liked the story of the encounter between Holmes and Watson, the beginnings of their friendship, and I appreciated the news about their past, which helped me to better understand some references found in other books. The story took me, as always: a lot of strange clues, some tracks more or less plausible, then the twist. Holmes discovers the murderess, a guy never seen or heard before. Fine.
It begins the story of a heartbreaking thing that has nothing to do. I read it for a few pages but it was just too heartbreaking for me, and I closed the book. A
question arises: what??
I mean, you, the king of yellow, I write a story from the most acclaimed in which the investigator takes a guy ever heard, said to be the murderess, but then does not show how he discovered, or why? It does not take a genius to write a certain yellow like that ....
What I did not understand at the time, used to tell was that the second part of the book was not a story in itself, but was linked (after a dozen or more pages) to the story read in part one. I noticed a few days ago when I re-read.
I must be frank, I really enjoyed it. I like Sherlock Holmes' brilliant deductions, the investigations, the most of the smoky atmosphere London, 50 pages of history almost completely separated from the main mystery, with the aggravating circumstance of the final sad not for me. I'll be back to read the stories, I appreciate them more.