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Yi1ncmlkLWNvbHVtbjpudGgtb2YtdHlwZSgxbisxKSB7IGdyaWQtY29sdW1uOiAxIH0gLndwLWJsb2NrLXRvb2xzZXQtYmxvY2tzLWdyaWQtY29sdW1uLnRiLWdyaWQtY29sdW1uW2RhdGEtdG9vbHNldC1ibG9ja3MtZ3JpZC1jb2x1bW49IjcyMzdkOWI4ZDdlMjQxZDg4Njg0OTYxMGQzNjZlYTg2Il0geyBkaXNwbGF5OiBmbGV4OyB9ICAud3AtYmxvY2stdG9vbHNldC1ibG9ja3MtZ3JpZC1jb2x1bW4udGItZ3JpZC1jb2x1bW5bZGF0YS10b29sc2V0LWJsb2Nrcy1ncmlkLWNvbHVtbj0iMTVkYjk4ZjhhYmI3MWFlOTNmMTNhMDBkZGE4ZWRkMjIiXSB7IGRpc3BsYXk6IGZsZXg7IH0gICB9IA==
Nelle prime liriche della raccolta dell’autrice c’è Pinocchio, Pinocchio con il suo mondo
di ladri, predatori, ammaliatori; Pinocchio con le sue tentazioni, la sua credulità e la
sua imperfezione; Pinocchio con il paese dei balocchi, “l’omino di burro” e il “paese
delle api industriose”. Lo stesso mondo e lo stesso “essere” che la poetica di Carla
Mussi ci rappresenta quando, uscendo dalla metafora collodiana, invoca in poesie –
preghiere i suoi dei: il Dio degli schemi, “così bravo a stabilire tutto”, a cui dichiarare il
proprio non essere “conforme” e non essere “capace”, il Dio dell’ordine con la sua
“intransigenza” e il suo “concetto igienico dell’esistenza”, o ancora il “Dio della caccia”
al quale regalare “il coltello che ha ucciso l’animale che correva nel folto del respiro” o
il “Dio della cattività”, al quale richiedere un “Dio selvatico” in cambio della propria
precarietà e cattiva volontà. Ci sono poesie forti, taglienti, talvolta sarcastiche in
questa raccolta, ambientazioni di fiaba cupa, sentimenti di tristezza, disillusione e
amarezza, poesie in cui la scelta lessicale è sempre molto evocativa ( si pensi ad
esempio al frequente ricorrere di parole quali “lama”, “coltello”, “forbici”, “taglio”,
“stimmate”, o “ladro”, “predatore”, “domatore” o ancora “precarietà”, “oscurità”,
“nulla”, “niente”).
Eppure ciò che si sente è soprattutto l’emozione, la sensibilità, l’ironia, l’intelligenza, la
franchezza di chi vive il proprio “cattivo dono” con tutta l’intensità possibile e tanto
visceralmente da dire “ho fame d’esistenza”, “bisogna sollevarsi per leggere l’amore”
e ancora “… scalza / così mi scalfivo di aghi di bronzo / volevo ricordarmi che si
sanguina / per sentire il paesaggio / nei propri piedi”; di chi, come Pinocchio, affronta
la sua lotta quotidiana per farsi uomo in carne ed ossa.
Monica Salvetti
