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The prose of Adele-Cornelia Ciurel is not shy to wear, on sight, the always incandescent forms, like Nessus's shirt, of the recovery of the sentimental, feminine epic. She comes in the always high lineage of Hortensia Papadat-Bengescu and Virginia Woolf and exploits, either through the diary method, or through pure observation, or through the avalanches of intimacy, these always lurking in the nightmare, obsession, remorse, asylum psychology. The characters are some shadows on the canvas of time, which disappear permanently or reappear mutilated by time, as in the painter's images (character in the novel), absorbed by the eyes of intense but lost loves. The mixture of ages disturbs the chronological chains. Verbal tenses enter into the whirlwind of memory or experience, many times the past and the present happen simultaneously, even at the level of a statement. It is by no means a disagreement between the story and time in the author's prose, but, on the contrary, we are confused by the impossible concordance between what we were, what we are and what we could not be. Wandering late... is a novel that challenges, in our feminine prose, the path of a beautiful and hearty surprise, beyond fashionable artificial postmodernisms. Aurelian Zisu