I first read this novel (E una notte d’inverno un viaggiatore) many years ago while sitting under the skeletal remains of a giraffe. It’s a novel about the intimate relationship between reading and living, so while this decision wasn’t deliberate, I’m glad for it after the fact.
In an introduction to a completely different book, Calvino wrote the following (as translated by Teresa de Lauretis): “Readings and lived experiences are not two universes, but one. To be interpreted, every experience of life recalls certain readings and becomes fused with them. That books are always born of other books is a truth only seemingly contradictory to this other truth: that books are born of practical day-to-day life, and of the relationships among men.”
If you aren’t a student of Structural Linguistics, then this is probably a pretty weird thing for you to think about. Very, very briefly (and please elaborate in the comments, if you like), Structural Linguists are interested in how individual words or parts of words are used to form larger structures (e.g., face, faces; I am, am I?). Their research into linguistic behavior has shed light on how language is both acquired and used to communicate meaning.
Now, extrapolate this to a novel: an author uses structured language to communicate meaning to readers. As in, say, a conversation, there are established conventions in novels that both authors and readers are aware of (character development, plot progression). But, consider the potential tension between your expectations as a reader and the author’s desire to be distinct and original. That is to say, as an author, if you conform completely then you may be dull and repetitive; if you defy all expectations to the utmost you may be unintelligible. As a reader, if you allow yourself to be utterly absorbed in the “reality” of the novel then you are possibly delusional; if you are completely detached, well, then you won’t enjoy a thing.
So now this novel. Calvino has written a book entirely about reading–and you are the main character! A Reader –you– begins a book: an exciting political thriller, full of trains and smoke and subterfuge. But, after the first chapter, the rest of the book is blank. You head back to the bookstore to get a different, hopefully complete copy, and encounter an Other Reader (Ludmilla), who has had the same thing happen to her! You each acquire new copies of your books and exchange phone numbers. After you return home, you learn that what you thought was a new copy of the political thriller is actually a completely different novel altogether –just as engrossing, though– but it also breaks off after the first chapter. You call Ludmilla: it’s happened to her, too!
Together, you and Ludmilla investigate and encounter a possible book fraud conspiracy, authoritarian regimes, an odd author and translator, and ten different unfinished novels. Your attitude toward beginnings and endings is questioned, and your readerly expectations are subverted.
Tags: Books About Books, Contemporary Fiction, Katie K.'s Picks, Oulipo, Semiotics
