Every time a book is published in Italy on territories devastated by waste and illegal trafficking, it is easy to compare Gomorrah, Roberto Saviano's 2006 best seller. In the narratives following that work, we look for connections, stereotypes, examples of compromised realities. The underlying theme remains social and human degradation as an effect of violence in the territories. Something that has been talked about a lot, even before Gomorrah but often with frustration.
"Cronache da Ferroponte", third book by the Neapolitan writer Aniello Milo published by bookabook, does not mimic Gomorrah. She doesn't have the ambition, nor the desire. Tell yes of the Land of Fires bell, unfortunate by the will of men, but above all tells of the arrogance and satisfaction of its inhabitants. Sedate and not at all combative in the face of practices generally considered inappropriate.
In Ferroponte there are the bosses, the affiliates, the illegal money generated by the territorial devastation. Products from a combination of so to speak modern factors. Wealth often has no matrix and it comes out in the book. It tells of a long and gradual process, through stories of life and abuse. Ferroponte is the imaginary place where the bad environment business supplies many needs. Men turned into servants. The reason he weaves lies in the dark vortex of an evil force which, in addition to – if not together with – environmental crime generates crooked and clumsy politicians. Postulants who ask for vows, fidelity and obedience, rather than referring to the noble traditions of the Caserta Terra di Lavoro.
Milo showcases disturbing characters, in their own way imbued with humanity and morals. But life is all marked by collective dramas, by a "deadly disease" that contaminates and kills. In practice, widespread tumors - needless to say - caused by mysterious trafficking on land once envied for its fertility. There is bad air for that waste "spilled and then covered which ferments in mysterious diseases and poisonous nocturnal miasmas". He pretends not to know why the wheel of well-being has to turn between luxuries, rumors, false moralisms. In the end, no one has more power than death in Ferroponte. A “shallots, black sfurtuna” writes Milo, but which leads us straight to the unhappiness of those who really live in the Lands of Fires.
