A Man of Few Words

Nobody knows how much I owe that man, Primo Levi said of the bricklayer who saved his life at Auschwitz. I could never repay him. Levi was referring to Lorenzo Perrone, who at great personal risk smuggled food, letters and clothing to Levi and other prisoners. The soup might contain sparrows wings, prune stones, or even fragments of pulped newspaper, but it provided Levi with the 500 extra calories he needed to survive each day. Perrone said nothing as he left the mess tin by a half-constructed brick wall. In A Man of Few Words, Carlo Greppi pieces together Levis saviour, a near-destitute labourer with minimal formal education. Despite their stark differences, Levi and Perrones friendship survived the Holocaust and continued until Perrones tragic death. Levi never forgot Perrone. As his friend withdrew from the world, Levi tried persistently to preserve the memory of this man of few words who had saved his life, but who left few traces of his own behind.
Compassionate, worldly and prescient, Greppi brings to light a universal story about an individual who kept hope alive in one of the darkest times and places known to man.

Autorentext

Carlo Greppi* (1982) is a historian at the University of Turin and author of numerous essays on the history of the twentieth century. For Laterza, he is the editor of the series 'Fact Checking: History Under the Test of Facts'. His latest book is Il Buon Tedesco (2021, Fiuggi History Award 2021; Giacomo Matteotti Award 2022) which sold 10,000+ copies.

Howard Curtis** (1949) is a British translator of French, Italian and Spanish fiction. He has translated works by the likes of Gianrico Carofiglio, Lluís Quintana-Murci, Beppe Fenoglio and Georges Simenon. His translations have won the John Florio Prize, Premio Campiello Europa, the Marsh Award for Children's Literature in Translation, and been shortlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize, Oxford-Weidenfeld Translation Prize and Best Translated Book Award among many others.

Klappentext

'Nobody knows how much I owe that man', Primo Levi said of his Italian compatriot Lorenzo Perrone, who saved his life at Auschwitz. 'I could never repay him'. Each day for a period of six months, Perrone, who worked beside Auschwitz in desperate conditions, risked his own life to smuggle part of his own soup ration to Levi, quietly leaving the mess tin by a half-constructed brick wall. Without those extra five hundred calories, Levi could not have survived, and would probably not have written If This Is a Man, the first published account by a Holocaust survivor. In A Man of Few Words, Carlo Greppi pieces together the life of Lorenzo Perrone, a bricklayer from the Piedmontese town of Fossano, not far from Levi's native Turin. Near-destitute and with minimal formal education, Perrone left very few traces of himself. Yet despite their stark differences - Levi was a middle-class chemist - their friendship survived the Holocaust and continued until Perrone's tragic death. Levi never forgot Perrone. In every book he wrote, he mentions that he owes his life to a man named Lorenzo, and he returned persistently, in the last years of his life, to the man of few words who saved his life. Compassionate, worldly and prescient, Greppi brings us a story that has much to say about the world we live in today, about an individual who kept hope alive in one of the darkest times and places known to humankind.