Valentino Parlato is suddenly gone. For me, for us, this is the loss of a ranking intellectual, a brilliant journalist, a fraternal father, a gentle man, a funny pain the neck, that rare communist who avoids the rhetoric of clichés and the traps of ideology.
Valentino has always preferred by far a disenchanted analysis of reality. And, with his qualities that made him dear, Valentino was always there, just a phone call away, ready for small talk at the café. Even when he did not agree, of course.
When I learned of his death, my first reaction was surprise, and the second was pain. Valentino, in spite of his ailments, carried his age with determination. He did not let his ailments discourage him. He wanted to be actively involved in expressing his ideas, his vision of the world.
Then the pain, as happens when someone leaves, especially when it’s sudden and a loved one to whom you are bound by more than one life.