If on a winter’s night a traveler Italo Calvino
Harcourt Brace Jovanovich 1981WorldCat • Read Online • LibraryThing • Google Books • BookFinder
Italo Calvino’s main goal in this novel seems to be to catch you off guard at every possible moment, and to keep you always guessing. From the very first word of the text, he twists the traditional form of the novel. I believe that this is the only sizable work of fiction I’ve read that is written largely in second person — the first word is “you.”
Calvino begins his narrative by describing you, the Reader, preparing to read If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler, by Italo Calvino. It becomes evident very quickly that you are reading a book about reading and books. The even chapters are beginnings of books that you, the Reader, come upon in your search, and are given the titles of those books. The odd chapters, which are numbered sequentially, tell of the circumstances that cause you to keep jumping from book to book without ever finishing one. Your misfortunes and adventures become more and more fantastic and more and more intertwined with the books themselves. At one point, the idea is fronted for a book about a reader who must, due to extenuating circumstances, jump from book to book in search of an ending. So, at that point, you (the real you) are reading a book about you (the Reader, who is for a brief time referred to in third person) finding an author who wants to write a book exactly like the one you (the real one again) are currently reading. Got it?
This book (the real one) is quite interesting, if a bit mind-bending. There is probably an actual literary term for a work like this, but as I am ignorant of it, I’ll just call it avant-garde writing. Calvino deconstructs the form of the novel, and to some degree the reading process itself.
The more I read novels translated from another language (this one was translated from the Italian by William Weaver), the more I find I enjoy them. Writing styles and wonderful word constructions not usually found in English can be delightful. With this translation, however, I found there to be a few too many obscure words. Not just uncommon words, truly obscure words like ‘pulviscular,” for which the OED has but a single reference from 1599, and which is marked both ‘rare’ and ‘obsolete.’ While it is important to convey the author’s ideas as closely as possible in a different language, readers should not have to possess a multi-volume dictionary to get though the book. A more common word or construction, although maybe not with precisely the same shade of meaning, would better serve the reader.