The most fascinating thing about photography is to see how the world can be transformed by the camera, and the delight is even deeper when what is photographed is something familiar, something just around the corner. If you have never walked around Massalombarda, but you might one day find yourself there, after having seen this book, you'll probably be disappointed. Massalombarda doesn't actually look like anything — as Memphis doesn't necessarily look like William Eggleston's pictures. Things are even more complicated though, since Massalombarda, in these photographs, seems to show some strange, mysterious family resemblance to other places that appear in pictures belonging to a specific photographic tradition. Ultimately, this has less to do with the city than with the eyes and mind of the photographer. It is not a document of the place, at least not in the first instance: it's more a diary, a memory box, where important meanings are «not public and general, but private and esoteric».