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Serie Ospedaliera
Questo volume raccoglie ottantatré poesie, scritte da Amelia Rosselli tra il 1963 e il 1965 e uscite per la prima volta nel 1969. Si tratta di testi «esitanti», come lei stessa li definisce, in cui l’autrice dà voce alla propria “guerra” personale con sé stessa, al proprio travaglio, al desiderio di fuga dal mondo e dal proprio universo interiore. Ci riesce grazie a un linguaggio nuovo, frantumato, originalissimo, che ha reso il suo stile inconfondibile e tanto amato da grandi protagonisti della nostra letteratura quali Pasolini, Zanzotto, Raboni. A cura di Emmanuela TandelloQuesto volume raccoglie ottantatré poesie, scritte da Amelia Rosselli tra il 1963 e il 1965 e uscite per la prima volta nel 1969. Si tratta di testi «esitanti», come lei stessa li definisce, in cui l’autrice dà voce alla propria “guerra” personale con sé stessa, al proprio travaglio, al desiderio di fuga dal mondo e dal proprio universo interiore. Ci riesce grazie a un linguaggio nuovo, frantumato, originalissimo, che ha reso il suo stile inconfondibile e tanto amato da grandi protagonisti della nostra letteratura quali Pasolini, Zanzotto, Raboni.
- GenresPoetryItalian Literature
112 pages, Paperback
First published April 7, 2015
8 people are currently reading
177 people want to read
About the author
Amelia Rosselli
38 books21 followersAmelia Rosselli (Paris, 28 March 1930 – Rome, 11 February 1996) was an italian poet, organist ed etnomusicologist.
Daughter of the antifascist activist Carlo Rosselli, exiled in Paris, and of Marion Catherine Cave, activist of the British Labourist Party. In 1940, after the murder of her father and his uncle ordered by Mussolini, she lived in exile with her family; this experience had a heavy influence on her poetical works.
Amelia Rosselli lived in Svitzerland and later in USA. She studied literature, philosophy and music in England. In the 40's and 50's she wrote numerous musical and ethnomusical studies and became in touch with the roman intellectual circle and the future members of the avant-garde movement Gruppo 63.
In the 60's she entered in the Italian Communist Party and wrote on several reviews getting the attention of Andrea Zanzotto, Giovanni Raboni and Pier Paolo Pasolini.
In 1964 she published her first book of poems, Variazioni belliche, by Garzanti, and in 1969 Serie ospedaliera, with her famous poem La Libellula. In 1981 she published Impromptu, a long poem after a long period of writer's block. She also wrote poems in french and in english (as her next book, Sleep.
She lived in Rome sharing a house with the poet Dario Bellezza, she died on 11 February 1996 by suicide, the same day of her great ispiration, Sylvia Plath.
Daughter of the antifascist activist Carlo Rosselli, exiled in Paris, and of Marion Catherine Cave, activist of the British Labourist Party. In 1940, after the murder of her father and his uncle ordered by Mussolini, she lived in exile with her family; this experience had a heavy influence on her poetical works.
Amelia Rosselli lived in Svitzerland and later in USA. She studied literature, philosophy and music in England. In the 40's and 50's she wrote numerous musical and ethnomusical studies and became in touch with the roman intellectual circle and the future members of the avant-garde movement Gruppo 63.
In the 60's she entered in the Italian Communist Party and wrote on several reviews getting the attention of Andrea Zanzotto, Giovanni Raboni and Pier Paolo Pasolini.
In 1964 she published her first book of poems, Variazioni belliche, by Garzanti, and in 1969 Serie ospedaliera, with her famous poem La Libellula. In 1981 she published Impromptu, a long poem after a long period of writer's block. She also wrote poems in french and in english (as her next book, Sleep.
She lived in Rome sharing a house with the poet Dario Bellezza, she died on 11 February 1996 by suicide, the same day of her great ispiration, Sylvia Plath.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
June 5, 2017
I read the new Otis Books translation (by D Thow) which this silly app refuses to locate
February 3, 2024
Amelia Rosselli scrive del suo mondo con un linguaggio suo, che é intimo e sincero. Ci racconta della sua malattia, del suo tormento, del suo non sentirsi parte di qualcosa, e lo fa entrandoti dentro, trasmettendoti quello che effettivamente prova.
Un racconto di sé che sa di vero e crudo.
Un racconto di sé che sa di vero e crudo.
November 7, 2019
Da série "Elena Ferrante me convenceu a ler esta escritora". Em La frantumaglia, Ferrante fala que Amelia Rosselli esta entre os poetas italianos mais inovadores e surpreendentes do séc. XX. Era trilingue, além de poemas, escrevia também ensaios, traduziu a obra da Sylvia Plath para o italiano e varios autores italianos para o inglês e francês. Era prima do escritor Alberto Moravia, ex-marido da escritora favorita da Ferrante, a Elsa Morante.
Rosselli sofria de problemas mentais, passou por longos periodos de internaçao psiquiatrica e no dia 11 de fevereiro, data que Sylvia Plath se suicidou, ela também se suicidou anos depois se jogando da janela do prédio.
Ferrante fala de uma frase que Rosselli escreveu sobre "menstruaçao": « Qu’il est noir et profond l’engagement de ma menstruation ! ». O que a incentivou a escrever uma cena em "Um amor incômodo" em que a personagem menstrua durante o velorio.
Gostei bastante deste livro de poesia, quero ler os outros, de preferência no original, minha versao é uma traduçao para o inglês, a unica que estava disponivel no Kindle.
Rosselli sofria de problemas mentais, passou por longos periodos de internaçao psiquiatrica e no dia 11 de fevereiro, data que Sylvia Plath se suicidou, ela também se suicidou anos depois se jogando da janela do prédio.
Ferrante fala de uma frase que Rosselli escreveu sobre "menstruaçao": « Qu’il est noir et profond l’engagement de ma menstruation ! ». O que a incentivou a escrever uma cena em "Um amor incômodo" em que a personagem menstrua durante o velorio.
Gostei bastante deste livro de poesia, quero ler os outros, de preferência no original, minha versao é uma traduçao para o inglês, a unica que estava disponivel no Kindle.
April 8, 2025
If desperations are motions towards happiness I am a broken crank, a celestial sun, a sprinkling of crystal crumbs, a solitary room or a stratagem for getting lost. Who’s coming, who’s going, incomprehensible i remain in the praxis of the night. Praxis of my not finding not understanding not forgiving the trifle that is my refrigerator. A linguistic crematorium is the farce of our credence of credentials. Through the nights that took the slowness of a heart attack I rhymed luxuriant permanent lust. Through the impish nights in the notch of the night truly i’m endless. You break my bones you claim that i’m like you publishing pentatonic disappointment. The tenacity that struggles against self - contradictions, yet another flight of mine to the peripheries of illusion.
What do you know about lost battles, hospitals and madness, spitting blood on the archipelago of the heart? This bitch knows! - Carry on. Hit by storms that crystallise into a punch on impact whilst stirring a pot on the stove of the kitchen? She most likely knows. - Won’t someone please make it stop. Too many women are called mad both today and yesterday and tomorrow. With cockscomb lusts conjoined on the circus crematorium that is avant-garde wordplay, extending out the umbrella of madness to catch its diction, she is quietly making sense of the insensible in flights of self-contradiction taken to garter wearing outskirts with loose hems sobbing trying to re-trace their stitch steps. Although most of the second-half reminds me of things i no longer care about, but, go off queen i guess. Surprising, as i am a well known madwoman in the attic and love nonsense dearly. The day’s boredom split into a thousand shards and thankfully not a thousand pages.
What do you know about lost battles, hospitals and madness, spitting blood on the archipelago of the heart? This bitch knows! - Carry on. Hit by storms that crystallise into a punch on impact whilst stirring a pot on the stove of the kitchen? She most likely knows. - Won’t someone please make it stop. Too many women are called mad both today and yesterday and tomorrow. With cockscomb lusts conjoined on the circus crematorium that is avant-garde wordplay, extending out the umbrella of madness to catch its diction, she is quietly making sense of the insensible in flights of self-contradiction taken to garter wearing outskirts with loose hems sobbing trying to re-trace their stitch steps. Although most of the second-half reminds me of things i no longer care about, but, go off queen i guess. Surprising, as i am a well known madwoman in the attic and love nonsense dearly. The day’s boredom split into a thousand shards and thankfully not a thousand pages.
July 3, 2016
Like a scream of pain and rage in the night--I don't know what it means, but AI know someone means it.
October 29, 2016
My head responded by recalling my own transmissions when within a hospital, though hardly aware of the joy and the cruelties presented here.
January 13, 2023
la poesía de amelia rosselli es un suspiro
January 24, 2023
la mejor Amelia Rosselli en estos versos
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews