Florentina Dalian's prose has the perfect profile of lived and fictionalized life: smiling and shy, fragile, like a porcelain figurine, but very confident in moments of "crisis", climax, the inserted humor being the real outlet for the entrails of existence. The volume The inn between the vines is well coagulated and rhythmic, worked in detail and with a stylistic perfume from past and contemporary times.
If this had been the debut volume, then the critical sentence would have been invariable and decisive: a work that catches you, that gives birth to vivid images, that remains on the retina of your imagination, generosity being the keystone of the worlds described in so many existing medallions. to flee. However, as the author already has a confirmed creative universe, complex at the level of a writer, alternating between genres - epigram, poetry and prose -, then all that results is a confirmation of a literary value that is always at the beginning, without to overlap with other previous writings, through a freshness always well tempered.
The corpus of prose pieces, collected over a period of six years (2014-2020), reflects the site where the prose writer was for a long time, in search of an untouched time. We have no fear here of wasted time, of what Proust experienced, for example, by the involuntary recollection of a childhood fact when he tasted a bread baked twice, soaked in tea, and which in his novel became a eternal madeleine. In fact, in the case of Florentina Dalian we have an extra-biographical vein that she explores intelligently and meticulously, extracting from the past authentic images and sequences, not so much in the sense that the episodes and events took place in the same way, whether they are real or not. .
For Florentina Dalian, the technique used is that of "diary" and "photography" of memory (memory flow), associated with personal humor, weighted and interstitial, which hides the mysterious, core message that is the true matrix of this exceptional volume, as style and composition:
Yeah, I replaced the camp light ... I replaced it with artificial lights. Lights and lights everywhere, globes, globes, globes, colorful showcases. What do we hope for? To make more light in us? (Toys)
It has passed, but only apparently, the deep and true things do not pass. (The inn between the vines)
He may have left to see something in the world that he would soon leave. How strange! How hard we detach ourselves from this world, how much we would like to feel it is ours, how much we wish we could carry it with us in our pockets! We are promised a better world and we believe in it, but we are still sorry for the one here. After the mountains, after the rivers, after the morning dew, after the sea ... (Dolmabahce Sarayi)
The serene nature, lucid, but not without existential complications, generated by an acute individual moral consciousness in the mirror of personal and surrounding reality, Florentina Dalian instrumentalizes her narrative directions towards a broad hermeneutical vision, in the vicinity of a universe that belongs to her and is found. entirely, without resorting to other superfluous stylistic resorts. The prose that opens this volume full of descriptive jewelers confirms the knowledge of this lived world, not imagined, for transfictional reasons, as it happens to other calophilous authors. The phrase flows and envelops the reader's feeling, thus creating a magic in the text, a universe of characters and relationships that shows that the author's value is not an effort, but proof of the art of being natural, authentic.
"It was snowing. In the light, the flakes took on a dizzying dance, which he paused for a moment instead of looking at. Her heartbeat had not subsided. The city was enchantingly lit and all this enchantment spoke of an artificial happiness, but which gave you a feeling of well-being. The blizzard was through her soul as well, and suddenly tears came to her eyes. Her cheeks mingled with melted flakes, but she could feel neither the cold nor the flakes, but only her heart beating with sadness, regret, but also joy. Santa will come to them tonight. For the first time in a long time. " (Why don't Santa Claus come to us?)
When the humor appears in Greek setting, it is bursting, causing laughter, as in some movie frames what "happens" between words, in these frantic folds. Zorba's world is brought back to life in a few notations that charm and accumulate as in a cascade of images and lines. From this last perspective, dialogue is one of the strong weapons of the prose writer, who masters almost dramatically, no less lively, the "art of conversation".
- Have you seen the dolphin? Is that beautiful?
"Yes, Captain," I answer softly.
Don't look at me, his eyes are on the sea.
- You're beautiful, lady, and I thought you liked me. But I'm engaged.
"Is she your beautiful fiancée?" She muttered, her heart like a flea.
- What do you say, is she beautiful ?, he asks, pointing with his hand out to sea.
- Are you ... engaged to the dolphin? (The Dolphin)
The piece of resistance and stylistic synthesis of the volume, the prose that gives the title of the volume, surprises us by its vastness and development, telling, in recourses, a fascinating story about a reunion in a hostile, blizzard setting, („.... a it was a long time ago and it was in vain ”), but in an affective vibration with a special lyrical effect. Therefore, we can say that "le style c'est l'homme même", after the famous expression belonging to Buffon, and adapting here that "the style is Florentina Dalian herself".
Nicolae Florentin Streche