The Wandering Fascist

There’s a passage in Curzio Malaparte’s Diary of a Foreigner in Paris which, for all of its contradictions, helps explain the lingering fascination with Malaparte’s work. While there’s something inherently fraught in giving Malaparte the first word, it’s also useful to establish him as an edifice of sorts. Whether that edifice will be torn down or defaced in the words to come remains to be seen.