A literary thriller, satire, a profound and witty novel – comparable to Cormac McCarthy but with more laughs. Cappellani’s best to date.
‘The Orderly Delirium of a Sicilian Pynchon
The title echoes, and perhaps pays homage to, Philip Roth, from whose work Ottavio Cappellani has certainly learned the extraordinary ability to stage human pettiness and the great dramas of everyday life. But Pastorale Siciliana, published by Giulio Perrone, is undoubtedly a Thomas Pynchon in Sicily. And the comparison holds throughout, even though Cappellani has a distinctive voice of his own, difficult to imitate, recognisable and unmistakably Italian, yet international. In the sense that he describes the present-day nation with a unique ability to be outlandish, profoundly Sicilian and at the same time universal. In this and his other novels, one does not find the dreary tales of writers in the throes of an identity crisis speaking to other writers in crisis, in books that will be reviewed in newspapers in crisis by editors and other writers who are, in turn, in quite a bit of a crisis themselves. Nothing self-absorbed, tedious or artificially intellectual. Although Pastorale Siciliana does, in fact, tell the story of a writer in crisis, he does not bore us for over three hundred pages with his petty torments. No. He becomes a perfectly functioning cog within a kaleidoscope of ideas that overflows yet holds together from the first line to the last. It has the structure of a detective story – or rather, a ‘crime’ story, as they say these days. A missing little girl – the sort we hear about constantly, with such concern, on talk shows. But within this framework lies a world of orderly madness, set against the backdrop of a Sicilian campsite inhabited by a diverse and eccentric bunch of people. There are conspiracy theorists and eccentric New Age mystics; the story makes you laugh and moves you, until you realise that this microcosm is, in fact, our own world. A world divided into groups that do not communicate with one another and are completely ensnared in their own beliefs; a world in which truth is fragmented in a Pynchonian postmodern manner, even when it is painfully obvious. There’s no point in summarising the plot, because it’s best enjoyed at the pace of Cappellani’s sunny, sweet-sounding prose. It’s a book that deserves to be read and translated, because there are no others quite like it out there.‘ Panorama Magazine
‘The writer at the height of his powers who dissects the present
There is an epic quality to Ottavio Cappellani’s ability to blend a form of survivalism that takes its cue from Thoreau’s cabin on Walden Pond, Greek mythology and the ‘tragediatori’ irony so typical of Sicilians. He demonstrates this once again in the realm of fiction with his latest work, *Pastorale siciliana*, published by Perrone.
Whilst not shying away from an analysis of the crisis in writing, Cappellani presents his work without judgement and, with sharp and refined language, draws the reader into his most mature novel, which dissects the present: he captivates his audience with digressions, grips them with dialogues and seduces them with an irony that reaches heights of genuine comedy, because, as Ernesto would say whilst attending the improbable New Age courses held at his campsite, ‘nonsense needs to be taken seriously’.’ La Repubblica
In the rural south-east of Sicily, amidst the baroque villages, a little girl has gone missing; three immigrants who have just arrived to work under the ‘caporalato’ system are fleeing across the countryside; and Ernesto, a writer in his fifties in the throes of a creative crisis – a fallen aristocrat, a very fallen one at that – has retreated to the family baglio, now a dilapidated ruin. But what was meant to be a peaceful retreat where he could rediscover his love of writing had, year after year, turned into a chaotic campsite, amid permaculture, biodynamic farming, yoga classes, run by Raffaella (cynical enough to have set it all up on purpose, as it happens) and Claudia, who wanders about half-naked, beautiful and quite mad, building traps for aliens (“they’re like rabbit traps, but bigger, and the place is teeming with aliens”).
The three immigrants find themselves caught in one of these traps; officially accused of kidnapping the little girl, they tell Ernesto a completely different story: someone wants to kill the girl and pin the blame on them.
Meanwhile, the police arrive at the baglio and the three flee to a vineyard. Before getting a clear picture of what is happening, Ernesto, Raffaella and Claudia decide not to say anything to the police.
Ernesto therefore seeks advice from Don Lou Sciortino, a Mafia boss who, out of love for his nephew, has become, shall we say, a decent person, limiting himself to laundering money through a film production company, yet remaining well-informed about what is happening in Sicily. Don Lou confirms that the three immigrants’ story is true, but cannot reveal who is behind the plot: “because, for us, it is one thing to suggest, quite another to say”.
The sweet summer countryside, full of scents, citrus fruits, carob trees and olives, turns into a dark, menacing place.
Whilst the three immigrants return to the campsite, where they are being hidden, Ernesto, Raffaella, Claudia, plus a motley crew of amateur detectives, try to solve the mystery amongst trendy bars nestled in ancient palaces teeming with cocaine-addicted architects and designers, dingy village pubs packed with farmers and alcoholic construction workers, greenhouses brimming with vegetables, beach bars, trattorias, five-star resorts, and real and fake nobles.
Until they uncover a local politician’s agenda: to scrap the new green economic initiative, prevent people from returning to live in the countryside, and recreate that climate of fear that has kept people locked up in towns and villages, because: “If people, with this bloody green economy, go back to the countryside, we’re screwed. They’ll buy chickens, grow their own veg, spend less, and need us less, and it’ll be harder for us to buy their votes for fifty euros. You’ve been banging on about this bloody countryside! You’ve got to stay in the towns and villages!”
‘The literary references may naturally evoke Leonardo Sciascia, for his psychological rather than geographical Sicily; Stefano Benni, for his taste for the grotesque; or Thomas Pynchon, for his accumulation of paranoia. Yet even these comparisons ultimately feel limiting. Cappellani uses culture not as a catalogue of references but as the living substance of his characters’ thought. Theocritus coexists with YouTube, Thoreau with the Noto radio telescope, philosophy with UFOs, and the novel never feels compelled to explain itself. It simply trusts the reader’s intelligence.
Even the ending rejects the conventional twist. After all the noise of theories, investigations, and obsessions, what remains are the baglio, the trees, the animals, and the physical world. It is as if Cappellani is reminding us that every philosophical system must eventually reckon with a leaking roof, a broken pump, or a garden that needs tending (not coincidentally, he himself lives in the countryside as something of a hermit, as he recounted in an interview). That is why the opening line continues to echo in the reader’s mind: “Bullshit needs seriousness.” It feels less like a joke than a diagnosis—of the Carrubo, of its inhabitants, and perhaps of a Western world that has replaced grand ideologies with an endless proliferation of small, private certainties.
Pastorale Siciliana offers no solutions. It does something more compelling: it observes chaos without the presumption of simplifying it.’ Gianmarco Aimi in Rolling Stone It
https://www.rollingstone.it/cultura/libri/pastorale-siciliana-ovvero-le-minchiate-hanno-bisogno-di-serieta/1033392/
‘A journey into the heart of a visionary, fierce and deeply human Sicily; Ottavio Cappellani’s Pastorale Siciliana hits bookshops today. An ensemble novel, featuring aliens and conspiracy theorists, in which comedy and tragedy intertwine. In south-eastern Sicily, a little girl goes missing. Three immigrants are accused of her abduction, but they tell Ernesto – an aristocratic writer in crisis who has taken refuge in his family’s baglio, now converted into an eco-campsite – that someone wants to kill the little girl and pin the blame on them.’ La Sicilia
‘Is it still possible, as Ottavio Cappellano writes in Pastorale Siciliana, to ‘spread redemptive terror with both hands’, as his protagonist, Ernesto – largely – and mockingly – modelled on the author himself – would like to do? This wildly comic novel is certainly well worth reading, not only to answer this question, but also because it centres on a sort of collective misadventure, steeped in the delusions of a society in the throes of self-destruction, amid infatuations and nonsense (the internet may be a good example, but television, festivals and cultural events are no better). There is more to it than that; there is a warning that our politics and our culture should perhaps take to heart.‘ Mario Baudino, La Stampa
‘The story combines lightness and depth. The grotesque or paradoxical situations aren’t merely comical, but are carefully and sensitively observed. This paints a precise picture of Sicilian society, where every belief or behaviour, even the most insignificant, conceals traces of a larger world. Cappellani invites us to look beyond appearances, highlighting the ability to find meaning in everyday life. His blend of irony and rigour gives the novel an original tone, which carries the reader through to the end without ever losing its power and charm.’ vcode.it
https://www.vcode.it/spettacolo/pastorale-siciliana-di-ottavio-cappellani-tra-trappole-per-alieni-e-verita-scomparse-in-sicilia.htmlSales
Gilulio Perrone Editore Italy (July 2026)
Material: PDF and finished copies of Italian edition (313pp)