If on a winter’s night a traveler by Italo Calvino

I have to say that I had been looking forward to reading this book since I picked it up a month or so ago, it was to be my first Calvino.  At the same time, I must also admit to being pretty ignorant to his style of writing.  This book is really about Calvino’s love of reading and writing and he takes great pleasure in explaining all the forgotten intricacies involved in both acts.  He shifts the point of view, he pokes at your patience, and he throws dead-ends at you left and right, frankly, to the point of jaw-clenching frustration.  He is a master manipulator.  Calvino treats reading as an organic thing in the sense that you can re-read the same book over and over again, and because of the normal, everyday influences on us, that book will never be the same.  He packs this book with enough fodder for a number of fresh re-reads.  I can’t say that I loved this book, but I have a feeling that the more I give Calvino a chance, the more I will enjoy his writing and I think that is all he is asking of us.