A book that I really don't know how to define, but certainly unsatisfactory. A surreal, delirious book. A series of short stories where, time after time, the narrators are flies, sofas, stones, goats, ghosts, ashes, flowers, crabs and scorpions. It would seem like a nice trick to convey philosophical concepts in an elegant and not heavy way; and instead philosophical concepts are not found. And not even humorous or ironic ideas, as in the surrealism of Arto Paasilinna. A book that in his thirty-odd stories left me with nothing, other than the impression that the author wanted to have fun writing what was on his mind, just to make us understand how good he is and how he masters writing. But as for content, if you don't like the absurd, you won't find anything here. A well written nothing, but anyway a nothing.
Two stars, and goodbye without regrets.