the danger of literature
Mr Nice
From when I was a child, books have had always a strong grip on me.
I read The Paul Street Boys (Hungarian: A Pál utcai fiúk) and here I was, trying to find Paul street outside my window and in my classmates the unlikely soldiers of my personal army.
Then I grow up, and I read On The Road and let’g go hitch-hiking around the diminutive road of Puglia, that is not actually California but just for a near miss, even if I actually only got to my highschool, and been being scolded by the principal for being late every morning.
Yesterday night I finish to read Mr. Nice, the autobiography of a Howard Marks…
And how was this Mr Nice book? worth to read it?
worth to read it, but beware of the strange ideas it could put in your mind
especially in that part of the world