Nothing

“I was a good-for-nothing, a punishment from God. And I didn't even know it.” In the early summer of 1940, Maddalena has been locked up in an asylum for four long years, fascist Italy has entered the war on the Duce's orders, and in the town of Monza, seventeen-year-old Francesca runs away from home. She has discovered that her father, to whom she had been entrusting her letters addressed to her painfully missed friend whose imprisonment she blames herself for, never sent a single one. But Francesca has no intention of leaving the infamous 'Rascal' in the lurch – unlike her own family and most of the inhabitants of the small Italian town. She is willing to do anything to free her friend, regardless of the stir her persistent and seemingly hopeless efforts are causing. But isn't the idea of the old Maddalena returning home desperately naive? Will their friendship survive the years of separation and the suffering they have endured? And what fate awaits Francesca and Maddalena in a society dominated by prejudice, ideology, and fear? The sequel to the bestseller 'The Rascal' brings a powerful story of friendship, defiance, and finding one's place in a world torn apart by war and hatred. A story inspired by the real lives of women who suffered in fascist Italy for their courage not to be obedient and meek puppets. “A story of betrayal, true friendship, fascist brutality, and the resilience of women.” – La Reppublica Robinson “I put a lot of my own anxieties and feelings into the text. The experience of girls in the 1930s is universal even for girls today. The difference is that in the thirties, adolescence was much more painful and lonely. Physicality and intimacy were strictly not spoken about at home, which made girls feel shame and guilt.” – from the author's interview for ČT art “Did you know that at first, no one was even allowed to visit her? In '38 I managed to get her an appointment with a general practitioner so he could give her a new diagnosis.” He laughed bitterly. “And do you know what she did? She nearly bit off the tip of his finger! That complicated things a bit. As you can probably imagine.” “Bit it off?” Matteo nodded. We were silent for a terribly long time. Then he whispered in a funereal voice: “We have no idea what's left of her in there.” “We still have to try, though.” “Of course we do,” he replied, as if I had stated the obvious; he gave me a scornful look. “What did you think? That you'd just waltz in here and solve everything? That you'd flatter the federal secretary a little and he'd overturn the sentence? Or that you'd fall to your knees before the prefect and beg him to close all the asylums in Brianza and take their patients home with him? I've been trying to help Maddalena for years. Alone and in secret.” “And why are you telling me now?” “I've never liked you. But you love her. And that's enough for me.” I had to agree with him: it seemed we were the only ones who still cared about her. We, who would walk blindfolded along the balustrade of the Bridge of Lions for a single look from her, for a single word of recognition. We, who used to be her Rascals. – excerpt from the book