A love story is pain and rebirth: it all depends on us

One man, three women, one shaman. A story that winds its way between two worlds: on the one hand politics, with the hypocrisies and tricks of legal technocracy, on the other Eastern philosophies, Celtic myths and rites. It is the common thread of “Room 1057. Suddenly that night” the novel by Ulisse Spinnato Vega, 47 years old, Sicilian journalist and writer who moved to Rome for over 20 years. The author explains:

It is a story with a noir flavor that talks about politics to the extent that it reveals some of the mechanisms that lead to the formation of laws, but above all it is a story of love, pain and rebirth dedicated to the ‘divine’ power of the feminine.

The hotel room number has a particular value in symbolic numerology: mainly indicates the change in sight and the responsibility for our actions that belongs exclusively to us.

Orlando is imprisoned in his irresolution and is faced with figures of women who are gigantic due to the strength of their feelings.

Orlando, the protagonist, has been living with Prisca for 15 years, but at the same time loves Sara, a psychologist who practices approaches related to intuition and Eastern spirituality. Sara isn’t just an affair for Orlando, it’s a chance at redemptionthe lever to upset and overturn the logic of the crafty, opportunist and cynical world in which he has always been immersed.

A business trip from Rome to Bari and an unexpected night…

On the second night, in a hotel room, 1057, everything will change. Strange events occur that inexplicably unite Prisca, Sara and even Lisa, an old flame that Orlando sees again by surprise after almost 20 years. The situation is bound to escalate.

Prisca or Sara? Orlando will have to choose between two women

A complex choice because both refer to the two halves of his own nature. It is precisely on page sixty-four that a suggestive aspect of Sara’s inner life and her tormented love is reported:

Yes, Sara felt she was experiencing what was happening as if it were the
process of expiation of a sin
. A fault that, it always was
more certain, it had to do not so much with her past or with her
family history, but rather with an earlier existence
tooth. Moreover, she thought that ménage with Orlando was not
his only punishment; there were other things, other events in his life
that hadn’t gone or weren’t going, apparently,
in the right direction.

Or rather: they went as they should, but the
they caused pain. She was in many respects a woman who the
common sense would define accomplished
: he loved his job,
she was full of friends who adored her, she was much courted by
men. Yet he felt fate as a merciless judge, at least in the present life. And more and more she was looking for meaning
in correlation to other dimensions, on terrains other than normal
occupations of everyday existence. As if the fullness
was elsewhere, a “religious” elsewhere in the broad sense, an elsewhere
made of spirituality, of authentic, extra-rational contact with the
world and with nature.

He rubbed his eyes which had acquired a blue nuance
rulea even deeper in that afternoon full of light pro-
putting. She yawned, stretched without getting up, and picked up the phone.
The messages in the chats were endless, those of Orlando were
just under twenty
. He often did this: maybe not her
he wrote for hours and then suddenly erupted like a volcano with
lapilli of words, explosions of hyperbole, castings of similarities more
or less poetic. He never skimped on pampering and verbal attention,
at the same time it was told without diaphragms, it opened with ge-
blackness, handed her all his thoughts, his emotions, his
torment. And Sara liked this very, very much”.

To continue to immerse yourself in this sentimental world, to understand if and how the emotional knots will be untangled, we just have to find out the pages.

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A love story is pain and rebirth: it all depends on us