I thought you knew me, but instead you know only a small part of it. I thought I knew myself, but my knowledge is incomplete. As for a teeth, that you don't feel until they pull it out of your mouth. So is it for La Mennulara, whose presence become evident only after her death. Her life is remembered in the memories and acts of the people around her; all fragments, each one distorted by the different characters, are put together for the benefit of the reader. The contradictions, tragedies and misteries form the parts of a wonderful portrait of a strong character, in a Sicily of the 6oths who is changing for good.
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