Wrath. Here you have to look for the country. You find it with difficulty, if you find it at all. A scattered hamlet, scattered along the hairpin bends of a road, hidden behind millstones and arbors, Its most obvious characteristic is its sunshine. Its hallmark is beauty. That understood as the promise of happiness. The atmosphere emanates from the landscape from the light that invades everything. An open-air museum, far from the ring roads, circumvallations, and ring roads. Those who come here can grasp the true sense of the flow of the seasons, understand the proper relationship between man and nature. Here the friendly welcome has an ancient flavor. On these precipitous crags toward the sea the houses, as Wright hoped, are not at, but of Hill. They belong to it. Hill and home live in unison, each happier because of the other. One distant night, on the threshold of a dream cradled by the waves, the Sower of Stars came here. She looked out and saw a mountain with a craggy profile, all intent on flirting with the sea that kissed her feet. So much in love that she hurt herself and opened a deep crack in herself. The sea was not slow to penetrate and fertilize her. The Star Sower watched this idyll with tenderness, until he was moved and dropped a handful of his jewels of light on those sun-baked slopes. There where the stars fell sprang up houses, terraces, gardens. And there settled men and women in love with life who gave life to Furore: " the country that is not there."
After so long in this enchanted land nothing changed, everything remained as it was then, until another star fell on the mountain in love. This star was reflected in that sea that was Ulysses' cradle and shouted to the world, "Here you can!" You can play, relax, thrill. You can be amazed, amused. You can learn, learn. But you can also forget. You can do and you can not do whatever you want.
Erri De Luca
