Emilio Cacini, known to everyone as ‘Soldo di cacio’ (Shorty) on account of his
diminutive stature, teaches art at a secondary school. Fat and clumsy, Cacio has a secret
involving a woman, Ilaria, with whom he had a relationship during the period in which
she was a member of the Red Brigades. He’d like to confide in someone but in Ardenza
Mare - the neighbourhood on the outskirts of Livorno where he lives – no one asks too
many overly personal questions. The fact is that it’s something of an anomalous place,
largely because of the magical, enchanted atmosphere in which it’s immersed. From her
cage in the middle of the neighbourhood park, the majestic tigress Mirtilla
(Blackcurrant) has always been a reassuring presence for the locals.
Cacio has a son called Pitore (Pet Chicken), a child who suffers from a developmental
speech disorder. In practice, Pitore speaks a language all of his own made up of new
words such as folmedína (sea). This would appear to be no big deal for Cacio, who goes
out of his way to find alternative forms of communication to words in an attempt to
forge an increasingly close relationship with the child, who he’s bringing up by himself.
Albeit disoriented, Cacio has a whole world inside himself and goes his own way. He is
gentle but, at the same time, strong, capable of passing through solitude and creating
harmony from the disharmony he feels around him. In search of authentic
communication that goes beyond words, Cacio seems to be saying that the world can
exist in many different ways, provided we know how to invent it.
Michele Cecchini possesses a unique imagination, a virtue few writers can boast of. His
is a magical realism marked by a special form of delicacy and wonder. A cross between
Fellini and Soriano, he uses a special lens to look at and speak about the world, which flies lightly by, as if it were enclosed in a soap bubble.