CAIRO — In her novel Tomorrow Tomorrow (Domani, Domani), published by Dar Al-Arabi in Cairo and translated into Arabic by Ola Mahmoud, Italian author Francesca Giannone paints a poignant portrait of social and human struggles unfolding in the heart of 1950s rural Salento, Italy. The story follows siblings Lorenzo and Agnese inside their small world, governed by a family renowned for its soap-making business.
اضافة اعلان
The factory—established by their grandfather and filled with the scent of essential oils and flowers—stands as a symbol of continuity and security in a place that bridges past and future, family dreams, and simple daily life. However, when their father suddenly decides to sell the factory, the family’s balance is turned upside down.
Driven by anger and a desire to reclaim his lost inheritance, Lorenzo leaves home, while the quiet Agnese stays behind to face the changes alone and salvage what she can. Over the years, the siblings walk parallel paths that never meet—one facing the world, the other confronting the self.
Against this backdrop, Italy transforms from a traditional rural country into a new nation whose streets throb with hope, conflict, and ambition. The text offers a striking narrative on family, choices, nostalgia, inherited anger, and loyalty that endures despite distance.
Notably, author Francesca Giannone hails from the Salento region in southern Italy. She studied communication sciences and attended the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia.
An Excerpt from the Novel:
"Lorenzo’s room was simple and almost bare; the remaining traces of his presence were confined to several movie posters hanging on the walls—all for films Marco had never seen before—alongside an easel, old tubes of paint, and brushes with dried, stiff bristles. From a portfolio resting on the desk, a few drawings protruded. The boy approached and flipped through them, noticing that every single sketch depicted the same girl: a strikingly beautiful girl with long blonde hair.
The young man studied her features for a moment and asked himself: This girl looks like someone I know. I think I’ve seen her before... but where? As he wracked his brain trying to remember, Mario suddenly said, 'Kid, I have to go now; it’s time for my medication. But if you want to stay, that’s fine. I’ll leave you the keys, just return them later.'
Once Marco was left alone, he put his headphones back on and began humming as he walked down the dirt road to the voice of Fabrizio De André singing: 'What I don't have is a way to survive for free... What I don't have is that thing I don't miss in its absence...'
Suddenly, he spotted the sign reading: 'Casa Rizzo: Historic Soap Factory Since 1920.' He continued walking, and shortly reached the vast open space in front of the factory while Fabrizio kept singing: 'What I don't have... is a rusty train to take me back to where I started.'
Marco stopped and looked up at the abandoned factory building. He contemplated the facade, blackened by time, the ivy scaling its walls until it obscured parts of them, the dimmed window panes, and the decayed wood of the door. In his mind, he recalled what he had seen in his mother’s old room and the countless details belonging to that place, realizing that the factory must have meant everything to them."
