Nowhere Man, Gli ultimi giorni di John Lennon was recently published in Italy, and this poster is an advertisement for a major Italian presentation of the book.
This special event takes place on December 9, in the central auditorium in Piombiono, a picturesque Tuscan city on the Mediterranean, where Nowhere Man's translator, Paolo Palmieri, lives. It will commemorate the anniversary of Lennon's murder, on December 8, 1980.
Since I can’t be there in person, I will be beamed in via Skype, and will answer questions about Lennon and the Beatles.
Also appearing is rock ’n’ roll expert Riccardo Bertoncelli.
So, if you find yourself in Piombino on the big night, perhaps on your way to Elba or Sardinia, please check out the presentation. The Lennon energy in the town is intense, (especially in Il Pinguino café), Paolo will be happy to speak to you, and (it goes without saying) the food in Piombino is excellent.
Hope you can make it!
The Weekly Blague
The Renaissance of Nowhere Man, II
Lennon, Italian Style
I didn't know John Lennon had any Italian in him until I saw the cover of Nowhere Man: Gli ultimi giorni di John Lennon, which, I'm told, goes on sale in bookstores throughout Italy today. It is, of course, the cigarette in Lennon's hand that somehow gives him that Italian look. And as far as I know, it's the only cover of any Lennon bio in any language that shows him smoking.
The book should soon be available on the Internet, as well, but in a land where Kindle doesn’t exist, the real Nowhere Man action, I’m told, is going to be in le librerie of Rome, Milan, and… Piombino.
Yes, Piombino, a picturesque Tuscan city on a promontory jutting into the Mediterranean, where on a clear day you can see Elba. This is where my translator and Italian Avatar, Paolo Palmieri, lives. I’ve been there, and there’s a lot of Beatles energy in this town.
One place you can feel it is in Il Pinguino café on Piazza Della Costituzione. The owner, Simone, a published poet whose last name escapes me, has decorated the walls of his café with photos of the Beatles. When he heard that I’d written Nowhere Man, he recited for me—with Paolo supplying a simultaneous translation—a poem he’d written about the night Lennon was murdered, “The Last Tolls of Your Footsteps.”
So, if you find yourself in Piombino, perhaps stopping off there on your way to Elba or Sardinia, why not head over to Il Pinguino and say ciao to Simone. He might read you a poem. And, oh yeah, check out the wall in his Beatles room. I hear my picture’s hanging there, too.