Andrea Kerbaker’s place is a book lover’s paradise: thirty thousand volumes sprawled out everywhere, on shelves going up to the ceiling, stacked on the floor, crammed into every nook and cranny, in the kitchen, and in the bathroom. Books from every period, language, workmanship, and format, divided according to the logic of the owner: antiques and from before the twentieth century; with dedications; foreign; poetry; art books and books on cinema. All browsable, “to overcome the reverential awe that is often felt towards collections,” explains the homeowner. It is impossible to stop the eye from darting from posters to photomontages, illustrations by Guido Scarabottolo, and works by Francesco Musante, Tullio Pericoli, Mirò’s plates, paper sculptures, ceramics and movie posters. There is also a section dedicated to children’s workshops where they…