You know how children are, sometimes they love you by cuddling you, other times by trying to remake you from the start, reinvent you, as if they thought you were badly brought up and they had to teach you how to get on in the world, what music to listen to, what books to read, what films to see, the words you should use and those you shouldn’t because they’re old now, no one says that anymore. “They think they know more than we do,” Giovanni confirmed. “Sometimes it’s true,” I said, “because to what we’ve taught them they add what they learn outside of us, in their time, which is always
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