This summer I read the novel The story (Quaderns Crema) by the Italian author Elsa Morante (Rome, 1912-1985), and it's mid-September and I still haven't forgotten it. It's a masterclass in writing, social commitment, and observation of life; one of those totemic books in the history of literature that I, personally, didn't know about, and that Quaderns Crema has published in our language this year 2025. Marina Laboreo was responsible for translating the novel into Catalan, resulting in a text that flows naturally and naturally, despite the mischievous representations of language it contains (for example, the exercise of translating a small child who is not entirely refined in his speech and who constantly shortens words; a fact of no small importance in understanding not only the entire personality).

What does Natalia Ginzburg mean when she says that The History What is the most beautiful novel of the 20th century? Not only because it's a literary ambitious work, but because it goes to the core. The almost eight hundred pages of The History, by Elsa Morante (Rome, 1912-1985), they strike us where it hurts most, which is in the heart. The story—now in lowercase—of Ida Ramundo and her son Useppe, who is barely two inches off the ground, touches us deeply. This powerful choral novel is a hymn to human resilience and the everyday heroism of the weakest, capable of displaying a Numantian fortitude.

One of the best indicators for measuring the health—optimal, correct, or precarious—of a literature can be to review the translation of classics and the policy of recovering its canonical authors. The harvest leading up to Sant Jordi in 2025 is proving, in this regard, quite remarkable, with such ambitious projects as the publication of a new version of Emily Dickinson's complete poetry, the publication of all of Hans Christian Andersen's stories, the recovery of Joaquim Amat-Piniella's most emblematic book, and the demands.