Scherzetto, the book’s Italian title, means “a minor work or composition.” But there is nothing minor about this novel apart from Mario, who is indeed quite small. Trick is not a story for children, nor is it a novel for those in need of reassurance. Here is the fine print that most of us prefer to ignore as we blunder through life. It warns us that childhood is scary, as is falling in love and getting married, as is old age. We are prey to rage along the way: at one’s parents, one’s offspring, one’s choices, one’s own blood. And there is no escape from fear: of who we really are, of what we see and what we don’t.
Scherzetto, the book’s Italian title, means “a minor work or composition.” But there is nothing minor about this novel apart from Mario, who is indeed quite small. Trick is not a story for children, nor is it a novel for those in need of reassurance. Here is the fine print that most of us prefer to ignore as we blunder through life. It warns us that childhood is scary, as is falling in love and getting married, as is old age. We are prey to rage along the way: at one’s parents, one’s offspring, one’s choices, one’s own blood. And there is no escape from fear: of who we really are, of what we see and what we don’t.
