Tell Me It Can’t End
Original title: Dimmi che non può finire
What would you do if you knew the exact end date of everything that happens to you? Would you live it anyway, accompanied by that pressing fear of losing it, or would you avoid it in order not to suffer?
Amanda lives in Rome, at home with her mum. She is thirty, has no boyfriend, a job she hates and no friends except for a would-be showgirl and a neighbor who is also her psychotherapist. Ever since she was little, Amanda has believed she could foresee the day when everything in her life would end. It all started with her passion for maths and numerology. For example, she adds up the date of birth of anyone she meets to reveal their personality, and since she has this affinity with numbers, she’s convinced that every time something good happens to her, the numbers will give her its end date. When she finds out the date her job is destined to come to an end, she decides to stay one step ahead and quit. Amanda has constructed this kind of defence mechanism and learned to face the world with a sneer, somewhere between bitterness, resignation and self-deprecation: she hides behind this unusual superstition to cover some deep scars.
Now unemployed, she takes a job babysitting little Samuele, even though she hates kids. This role with zero job satisfaction could work out well for her, while she waits, as always, for the inevitable end. Samuele is a lot like her, even though he’s only seven: a bit detached and a real loner. He has trouble making friends but has a keen observational eye. Because of, or thanks to, her relationship with Samuele, and his dad Davide, Amanda is forced to deal with family (hers and theirs) and to realise that even the most messed up life can be accepted, it just takes a lot of love and hard work. Just when things seem to be going right, the numbers throw a new end date her way, that end date, the most important of all… What will she do?!
Simona Sparaco brings us a work of women’s fiction with an unforgettable protagonist. Amanda is a woman of no particular talents; attractive, but not too much; lacking inhibitions, but not morals; shy but blunt; far from the average, deceiving female leads in the countless tv series that have portrayed a generation of lost women trying to find their place in society. Amanda is unique, she lays her cards on the table and spits out the truth with disarming courage, opening up to the reader with no shame, and sharing all her fears and foibles (and a few surprisingly tender moments along the way)
- Simona Sparaco winner of Premio DeA Planeta 2019 and Premio Bancarella 2015, finalist at Premio Strega 2013