One, No One and One Hundred Thousand

TL,DR: I didn't get it. I know that as an Italian, especially as a southern Italian, I'm supposed to like Pirandello, but... I was lukewarm after reading “Il fu Mattia Pascal” and now fully disappointed by this book, so I need to probably accept that Pirandello is not my thing.
I found this book pompous and self important. The author takes a simple idea and puts on it a veneer of importance that isn't justified and some pretended philosophical depth. Then he goes on telling a story where very little happens and so the page have to be filled by pontificating, trying to convince us how original and meaningful all this construction is, but in reality, it isn't.