To write about Nicola Chiaromonte is, for me, to say farewell to an old friend; and I cannot resist the temptation to try and make him come alive again, even if only for a moment, for those who may read these words. Luckily, I do not have to depend on my own limited literary powers to conjure up his presence; I can call to my aid the superb gift for evocation of Andre Malraux, who immortalized the essence of Nicola Chiaromonte—only the essence; not all the facts fit—in the character of Sc...
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