Restless Nights: Selected Stories

by Dino Buzzati, Lawrence Venuti (Translator)

Buzzati is a brilliantly inventive existential fantasist who fills his tales with fascinating, often disquieting characters and events, and his use of fantasy distinguishes him as an important modern writer in that genre. Even though he seems to lead us into strange worlds far removed from our daily lives, his technique is really to expose the fantastic element that lurks beneath the surface. He chose as his subjects many of the ideas and developments that have shaped twentieth-century life since the Second World War, producing a body of fiction that is intimately linked to our times. Relating the most incredible incidents as if they were ordinary occurrences, he persuades us that they could in fact happen outside the printed page. Just as we gradually come to accept the bizarre goings-on in Kafka's work, Buzzati compels us to suspend our disbelief by lending plausibility to his fantastic stories.

Contains:
-The Seven Messengers
-The End of the World
-Appointment with Einstein
-The Saucer Has Landed
-The Survivor's Story
-Prank
-The Walls of Anagoor
-Human Greatness
-The Colomber
-The Writer's Secret
-The Bewitched Jacket
-The Elevator
-The Ubiquitous
-The Wind
-The Eiffel Tower
-The Falling Girl
-Quiz at the Prison
-Elephantiasis
-The Scandal on Via Sesostri
-The Scrivners
-What Will Happen on October 12th?
-The Count's Wife
-The Bogeyman

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Italian Literature, Italy, Fantasy, Literature, Horror

130 pages, Paperback

First published August 1, 1971

About the author

Dino Buzzati Traverso (1906 – 1972) è stato uno scrittore, giornalista, pittore, drammaturgo, librettista, scenografo, costumista e poeta italiano.

Dino Buzzati Traverso was an Italian novelist, short story writer, painter and poet, as well as a journalist for Corriere della Sera. His worldwide fame is mostly due to his novel Il deserto dei Tartari, translated into English as The Tartar Steppe.

Reviews

[Carmine R. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Passeggiata nel buio

"La ragazza innamorata soffriva tanto, che perfino il demonio se ne impietosì. Andò da lei e le promise l'amato. A una sola condizione: che mai, per tutta la vita, neppure con una semplice carezza, lei lo tradisse; pena, la morte sua, di lui e dei figli. Singhiozzando, fu costretta a rinunciare."

"Troppo tardi. La notte. Al buio non si suona. Nella nostra baracca. Al lume di candela, la cena. Nessuna parla. I pensieri. Ma da fuori, anche in noi si spande il rombo perpetuo dell'onda - la gloria, l'oro, il dominio, il lusso, la caducità, la polvere - frastuono di applausi e di morte."

"E come tanti anni fa, compaiono le vette dei campanili e dei minareti; poco più avanti la maestà delle grandi muraglie. Ma è come se non mi vedessero più, come se non esistessi.
Non mi chiamano più con quella silenziosa voce che entrava nelle viscere. Perché sono diventato uno straniero? Cosa ho fatto di male? Oppure tutto dipende solo da me, perché si è spento l'amore?"

Ma quindi dove stiamo andando?
Sai, non sei troppo rassicurante con quel tuo silenzio imperituro e il passo lento e inesorabile che ti contraddistingue da sempre. Aspetta, quelle scatole le ho già viste...ma dove?
Sì, in un tempo oramai lontano; echi di un passato in cui gli anni scappano via e pensiamo sempre che ci sarà un domani a rimediare, a riscattare momenti perduti in cui saremmo dovuti esser presenti. Quante promesse che facciamo a noi stessi, sollevati dalla leggerezza del momento a corroborare parole che suonano false e vaghe. Sai, cara Morte, alle volte siamo un po’ pavidi nell’andare a prenderci quel che vogliamo; meglio scialacquare i migliori anni della nostra vita in attesa che qualcosa cambi la confortante monotonia dei giorni tutti uguali. E così ho ucciso il Babau...non era mia intenzione accoltellarlo, tenero spauracchio della mia infanzia, testimone ultimo di irripetibili giorni. Non voglio andarmene. Non ho lasciato nessun segno su questa terra; nessun ricordo che possa rendere meno greve la dipartita. Ricordi la contestazione globale? Tutti quei giovani a inveire contro noi vecchiacci, dinosauri da accantonare per fare posto ad altra gente che coverà sogni gloria e fanfare ad accoglierli all’ingresso? Le fanfare non sono mai esistite; a meno che tu non mi voglia fare il favore di strombazzare un pochettino prima dell’ultimo saluto.
No, eh? Mi sembra giusto. Perché dovrei odiare i giovani e la loro stupidità, quando io per primo ho vissuto il loro tempo, goduto gli antichi giorni? Lo capisco, è il momento di spegnere la luce e lasciarsi alle spalle anche quest'ultimo corridoio. Morte, nelle mie debolezze ho perso tutto e i rimpianti continuano a perseguitarmi; ma siamo uomini ed è nella nostra natura perseguire la felicità nell'eterna incertezza. E comprendo che il tempo sia finito.
Ora, Contessa, la prego, prenda la mia mano e mi porti lontano.

[Steven Godin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliantly inventive and such fun to read. Why Buzati isn't as big as, say, Calvino or Borges I just don't know. Maybe it's down to the fact that not much of his work has been translated: Well, it should be. He's too good a writer to simply be neglected outside of Italy; although he is still quite popular in France. This collection of micro stories - 23 of them in under 125 pages - delve into a psychological fantasy world coated in realism; of absurd mysterious cities, the supernatural, the end of days, UFOs, strange journeys, rapid aging, and much more. Buzati takes his characters and events, despite how bizarre the goings-on, and induces the reader, a bit like Kafka did, that such unbelievable occurrences are in fact somewhat ordinary and not just fictions inside a book: He makes the comfort and escapism of fantasy seem all the more uncomfortably real. Genius.

[César Carranza · Rating 5 out of 5]

Personalmente me encantan los cuentos, me parece se necesita un talento especial para tener uno bien logrado, talento que definitivamente Dino Buzzati tenía, cada cuento es increíblemente bueno, los personajes, el estilo, le historia. Algunos cuentos no pasan de una página y ya tiene su propia atmósfera antes de terminarlo, exigen en muchos detenerse a pensar lo que acaba de ocurrir.

Hay cuentos fantásticos o dónde detalles cotidianos se transforman en situaciones especiales, dignas de estar esta gran colección. Sin duda leeré más de este autor, y si los otros libros son siquiera parecidos, será un total placer. Lo único malo es que se acaba muy rápido.

[Nate D · Rating 4 out of 5]

A necessary mark on the conceptual-fabulist line from Borges to Calvino. Each dips out of the ordinary and into the carefully-rendered bizarre, often in service of a deeper truth. Life plays out as a plunge from a 150-story skyscraper, a prince attempts to travel to the borders of his kingdom only to find that it extends beyond any reach, a major construction into the fantastic is forced to cap itself at the mundane. In perhaps my favorite of many favorites, Buzzati renders a world choked by the unforeseen effects of plastic -- very prescient in 1971. And the last two stories, fittingly, focus on the loss that goes with repressing the fantastic beneath bourgeois reservations.

It seems like everyone knows about Buzzati, yet I was completely unable to find an affordable copy of this definitive(?) story collection for almost a decade until stumbling on a pristine cheap used copy in a bookshop over the weekend.

[Night0vvl · Rating 4 out of 5]

داستانهاي كتاب عموما انتقادي و حول اخلاقيات بودند، شيوه ي نگارش بسيار ساده و روان بود و كار ترجمه هم به بهترين نحو انجام شده بود. در بين داستانها مي توان گفت كه سفر به دوزخ ( كه البته چندان هم داستان كوتاهي نبود) ، پسرك بي نوا، دختري كه سقوط ميكند...سقوط ميكند، كوچه اي به نام سزوستريس و پيرهاي جوان نما، دربرگيرنده چكيده ي تفكرات نويسنده در زمينه هاي انتقادي گوناگون بود و شايد خواندن اين چند داستان آدم را بي نياز از خواندن كل كتاب كند! به هر حال كتاب جالبي از يك نويسنده ي ايتاليايي بود و ارزش خواندن را دارد.

[Il lettore sul trespolo · Rating 5 out of 5]

E così con le notti difficili finisce il mio periodo Buzzati(continuerò naturalmente a leggere questo maestoso autore ma ormai ho esaurito le sue grandi opere).
Dopo un non esaltante ma pur sempre molto apprezzato "il deserto dei Tartari" sentivo il bisogno di tornare al Buzzati che accende la mia immaginazione,che mi fa riassaporare quella nuova quotidianità in cui tutto appare più magico e sfaccettato.
In questo libro non c'è un vero e proprio "racconto capolavoro"come invece è palese negli altri,l'ho trovato invece una buona sintesi dei massimi temi dei suoi scritti rivisitati in una chiave più pessimistica,più fatale,sottolineando ancora di più l'importanza di questa sua ultima opera.
Mi ha stupito particolarmente il modo in cui Buzzati intende la morte che è a tutti gli effetti il tema centrale del libro,racconti come la polpetta,il grandissimo "contestazione globale" o anche "Una serata difficile"danno una chiave della morte piuttosto particolare poichè in essi viene sottolineata la voglia di morire,di lasciar spazio (alle nuove generazioni in tutti e tre i casi) che per Buzzati a quei tempi malato terminale era difficile da pensare.
Altri racconti come "la farfalletta" mettono in evidenza l'ineluttabilità della morte e alcuni come "delicatezza" sono invece delle vere e proprie trattazioni sul tema.
Non mancano racconti dolcissimi dal finale amaro quali "Il Babau" o racconti umoristici(black humor purissimo) come "Alias in via Sesotri".
Sono contento anche di aver trovato un ricercatissimo racconto che avevo letto sul mio libro di antologia quando ero ancora in prima media dal nome " L'influsso degli astri" tutt'ora decisamente gradito.
E poi che dire ancora su questo libro?nella sua infinità tristezza e nella sua patina di amarezza che fa da sfondo ad ogni racconto sono comunque riuscito a trovare in me come uno slancio per rinascere,per reinventarmi.
Sarò forse troppo sentimentale ma questa è una caratteristica solo dei più grandi scrittori.

[Alessandro · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amaro, troppo amaro per essere il testamento di uno scrittore,come già saprete “le notti difficili” è l’ultima raccolta di racconti curata da Buzzati. Lo stile e le tematiche per fortuna sono sempre le stesse, l’avanzata del progresso a sfavore della favola e dell’illusione, il passare del tempo, le inquiete attese, l’illusione spavalda della giovinezza contrapposta alla vecchiaia, la vanità e la superficialità dell’alta società, gli arrampicatori sociali, la precarietà dell’amore, l’irrimediabile solitudine, la paura della morte. Tematiche che hanno sempre caratterizzato uno scrittore malinconico e ironico allo stesso tempo, ma in questo libro tutto è più arido del solito, definitivo e irrimediabile. I racconti finiscono per schiacciare il lettore sotto il destino di chi scrive e ci portano ad accompagnarlo nella sua ultima fase di vita, nel “tirare le somme” ma ben poco di positivo traspare. E allora non ci si può non intristire per lui per noi come suoi simili. Bellissimo libro ma se tornassi indietro non sò se lo comprerei sopra il comodino sta bene ma nella mente pesa come un mattone.

"Il pianerottolo è vuoto. Le piastrelle del pianerottolo vuote, con quella luce grigia che viene dal finestrone grigio e non concede perdono, la ringhiera nera e immobile, immobile la porta dell’appartamento di fronte, tutto immobile, vuoto, e per sempre perduto. Non c’è nessuno. Il niente del niente del niente.L’antico rimpianto sì. L’afflizione inguaribile sì. La maledetta speranza degli anni lontani, sì. L’invisibile mostro, sì. Ancora una volta l’ha presa. Lentamente affonda i suoi aculei nel solitario cuore"

[Alessandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,5.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

Buzzati reminds me of Calvino, only a little more willing to go to strange places. In these short stories (and I mean short-short stories - 23 tales packed into about 120 pages) a hotshot reporter acquires the ability to exist simultaneously in the present and the future with the help of an ancient grimoire, a group of engineers building the Eiffel barricade themselves at the top of the structure and try to keep building it infinitely higher, a literary genius slyly begins to write successively worse novels to appease his insecure friends, and the bogey man is hunted down and assassinated in the Italian night in a spray of carabineri gunfire. I haven't read any of Buzzati's novels, which I hear can get somewhat long-winded, but I find these micro-stories to be compact, idiosyncratic and intensely fun mash-ups of fable, myth, and fantasy with a spritz of science fiction.

[Airácula · Rating 5 out of 5]

Buzzati sabía que no le quedaba mucha vida, cuando se dedicó a esta última pieza. Con pocos meses en el reloj, e impregnado de presagios de muerte, el autor desenvuelve magistralmente los dos temas que siempre le persiguieron: la espera (con sus maldiciones) y la muerte. Esto mezclado en siniestras y fantásticas tramas, todas bien desopilantes.

De mis libros favoritos. No es para bajarlo de una sentada, creo que las últimas palabras que escribió Dino deben acompañarte varias noches, amasando en ti aquellas terribles cosas que le perseguían, siempre cubiertas de este velo burlón y neofantástico, armas que le permitían crear una membrana porosa, que filtra y confunde la realidad.

Algunas te harán reír, y otras la verdad que para nada.

[Adam Dalva · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun, ranging collection by an under-read author. I first discovered Dino from his purchase of immaterial picture space from Yves Klein, and from there learned about his excellent whale cloud drawings (http://weirdfictionreview.com/wp-cont...) . Next, I came to "The Tartar Steppe," a memorable Kafka-style novel. These stories are something different again: the highs here are quite high, and approach Borges (the easiest comparison) in their surreal logic, but as sometimes happens with a career-long anthology, the recurrent themes get frustrating and the weak endings became vexing. "The Scandal on Via Sesostri" is my favorite story here, and is emblematic of Buzzati's strengths of spiraling, newspaper style lyricism. What an enigmatic, talented man.

[Mohammad · Rating 3 out of 5]

هیچكدام از آثار بوتزاتی در حد و اندازه های كتاب معروفش یعنی بیابان تاتارها نیستند. با این حال سه داستان این مجموعه خیلی خوب بود. بقیه داستان ها از جنس سبك دیو و پری رمان راز جنگل پیر بودند.‏

[Aurore · Rating 2 out of 5]

Evidentemente, lo stile di Buzzati è molto bello e mi sento un po' vergognosa di dare a questa raccolta un vuoto così basso. Semplicemente i racconti erano troppi, troppo corti, troppo singolari... Sempre la morte, Dio, il diavolo, la stanchezza di vivere, i fatti inspiegabili. Naturalmente ci sono racconti che hanno toccato alle mie emozioni, che hanno prodotto qualcosa dentro di me, ma sono stati pochi...

Sono sicura che mi piace Buzzati, ma magari questa raccolta non era il migliore modo di fare la sua conoscenza.

[Alex V. · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a lot of fun. In this collection of micro-stories - most lasting only a couple of pages - Dino Buzzati comes off as the visiting writer at some liberal arts college in the fourth dimension. Focused more on architecture than character, many of the stories involve the fabric of reality elongating, telescoping in and out, collapsing on itself and yet, he does this in an immediately readable and rather fun way. His protagonists often find themselves dumbfounded by the twists of time and happenstance and forced to roll with the weirdness, which is pretty much all we can do in any situation.

This is the only thing of his that I've read but I'm curious to see if he can maintain the Fibonacci scaffolding to support this kind of bent cosmology in a larger work.

[Víctor Sampayo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Relatos breves, algunos incluso brevísimos o agrupados temáticamente, pero con varias, incandescentes, tonalidades; desde lo misterioso, lo anecdótico, lo paradójico, lo sombrío, lo cotidiano convertido en espeluznante realidad, y todo bañado con una capa de humor negro —en ocasiones más cargado hacia la triste ironía— lo cual logra carcomer cualquier atisbo de solemnidad. La última gran muestra de la maestría de Buzzati en narrativa breve.

[M●13RA · Rating 4 out of 5]

8.2/10

[Robot · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was delightful- I didn’t want it to end. The stories are fantastical and existential. I need to brush up on my Italian to read all his stories sadly not translated into English yet.

[Eric · Rating 4 out of 5]

Picked this up at Planet Books in Long Beach, CA a couple of weeks ago -- noticing it only by virtue of its spine, which bore the little squared arrow of the lovely North Point Press, a publishing house that wraps (wrapped? Dunno if they're still around) their paperbacks in handsome dust-jackets, coming at first to my attention years ago in discovering the work of Guy Davenport. Like Davenport, Buzzati is an imaginative short story writer unafraid to pick up where earlier writers of historical necessary fictions such as Marcel Schwob left off. For the most part, here, that isn't the case, but the point or two of convergence is worthy of mention (with this collection, it's the "Appointment with Einstein"). More so, Buzzati does what I guess we call magical realism, scifi, I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it's brief and thoughtful, usually, and packs a punch -- after each story I'd sit back and gaze dreamily and flick my eyes over at my little blue Buddha and giggle at his acorn cap. Highlights:

"The End of the World"
"The Saucer Has Landed"
"The Walls of Anagoor"
"Human Greatness"
"The Colomber"
"Quiz at the Prison"
"What Will Happen on October 12th?"
"The Count's Wife"

[Signor Carunchio]

adoro lo stile e la fantasia di Buzzati, un autore secondo me poco approfondito dai lettori che spesso si fermano al Deserto dei Tartari perdendosi un mondo davvero fantasioso e divertente in cui gettarsi.
Molti di questi racconti mi sono piaciuti, altri meno, ma nel complesso è un'ottima raccolta che consiglio a chi ha già letto le altre raccolte perchè qui si va a leggere l'ultima fase di scrittura e ciò si riflette molto nei temi trattati (la vecchiaia, la morte, il sentirsi superati e inutili etc).

[Mèo lười · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good ~~

[Perry · Rating 3 out of 5]

Generally really good, but it peaks early with The Walls of Anagoor.

[Theut · Rating 5 out of 5]

51 testi, racconti più o meno lunghi, bozzetti veloci che riprendono tutti i temi cari al Buzzati, davvero uno scrittore con il Dono. Splendidi.

[Sally Ito · Rating 5 out of 5]

"We make up stories in order to give a shape to our questions; we read or listen to stories in order to understand what it is that we want to know." – Alberto Manguel, Curiosity.

This book of short stories -- 23 altogether -- I read during the pandemic month of March 2020. Although as a writer, I'm pretty much self-isolating most of the time, I found myself at loose ends with my reading. My writer-in-residency position in another city evaporated and suddenly, like many other people in the world I was faced with weeks, perhaps months of idleness of the kind that should inspire new reading and writing, but doesn't, because the anxiety and uncertainty surrounding us in this pandemic makes me (and probably others) unable to focus. Initially, there was a great outburst of creativity by artists and the innovative began to work with the available technologies to connect with others, share their art, and extend their influence. I was invited to a couple of on-line writing groups and received chain mail letters in which I was to send inspiring messages to 20 of my friends. Somehow, I could not do it. In the last couple of weeks, all I could do was learn how make sourdough bread and obsessively read everything I could online about Covid 19 – the news, the stats, the stories. I continued as usual to post my daily haiku on FB – something I’ve been doing for a few years now – and did not deviate from this practice, sticking only to the one haiku a day which reflected my philosophy of being who-I-am-where-I-am-now in words. Some of these haiku reflected the anxiety I felt about the pandemic, other times it was about what was unfolding around me in the natural world during this spring season of renewal. I began to see that the way I wrote haiku was a combination of what I had seen other practitioners of the form do – namely, writing them as paradoxically being both an escape from, and encounter with, something other than ourselves. What does the foraging squirrel or the returned goose on the melting riverbank know of the pandemic? Nothing, of course. But then, writing of them, delivers one, if momentarily somewhere else. Similarly, what does this virus care about what I think or say? It doesn’t, but having encountered it in words, I have some means of articulating my anxiety about it. This is the power of language, and of literature more generally – to provide both escape and encounter.

The stories of Dino Buzzati did provide just that for me. Buzzati is a fantasist; his stories are built on ‘ideas’ of the what-if variety. For example, what if a priest met Martians who had on their own planet a tree of life similar to the one in the biblical Genesis account but of whose fruit they had never eaten because it was forbidden? Or what if there was such a thing as a bogeyman ‘whose shape was a cross between a hippopotamus and a tapir’ and whose existence is taken for granted as a ‘classic natural phenomenon like rain, or earthquakes or rainbows.’? Or what if, as in “The End of the World,” God brought an apocalyptic end in the form of a fist in the sky that appeared like an ‘enormous canopy of ruin’? As I read this latter story, Italy had become the epicenter of the pandemic and the story’s contents rang eerily true to what I was seeing and hearing about the country on the news. And me? What about me? Says a priest in the story, who, in the final eight minutes of the world’s end, is beset upon by those wanting to confess their sins to him leaving him no chance to confess his own.

You can see why these tales had a certain appeal at this time for me. They are speculative mind experiments in a time when the world is engaged in a real-life experiment with a virus it does not yet understand or know well enough to combat effectively. That the virus came from a bat or a pangolin is itself the opening to a science fiction, except that this pandemic isn’t a fiction, but a still unwinding narrative whose end is not yet clear. Narratives, though, are the business of writers and it is to them – people like Buzzati – that I owe some gratitude because, strangely, it felt serendipitous to me, in this time of uncertainty, to have encountered his stories in a moment when all I wanted to do was escape.

[Gonzalo Eduardo Rodríguez Castro · Rating 3 out of 5]

Un libro lleno de matices, formas y colores literarios. Toda una paleta llena de relatos que se leen de forma rápida, sin muchas capas, pero no por ello carentes, algunos, de cierta profundidad. Imposible no encontrar en su obra la influencia Kafkiaka. Dino nos lleva a trompicones entre lo fantástico y surrealista, hasta adentrarnos, por que no, más allá de la frontera de la (ciencia) ficción. En fin, un libro que, al abrirse a este, nos permite un respiro y las horas leyéndolo, se sienten más ligeras.

[Virginia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Las noches difíciles es una antología de cuentos peculiares, donde lo extraño se cuela entre las páginas de lo banal, descubriéndonos una realidad muy difícil de percibir pero que cuando la encontramos nos llena de belleza al igual que de inquietud. Son, por tanto, relatos inclasificables que exploran los límites de la existencia humana y, por ello, acaban enganchando al lector, que se espera otra colección de relatos aburrida.

Dino Buzzati es un gran autor dentro de las letras italianas, aunque relativamente desconocido fuera de sus fronteras. Como aficionada a la literatura, conocía a Buzzati de oídas, aunque no me había atrevido a leer nada suyo. Está claro que Buzzati es un magnífico escritor con una gran maestría en el manejo de la pluma, gracias a que posee un estilo depurado y complejo. Para ello se apoya en una prosa densa pero muy elegante, un lenguaje refinado y escogido con esmero y unas descripciones acertadas aunque poco numerosas o un tanto superficiales.

En este tipo de libros no se pueden perfilar demasiado a los personajes, debido a la diversidad de temas y acciones. Pero en este caso se aprecian elementos en común muy marcados. Para empezar, la mayoría de los relatos suelen estar narrados en primera persona y siempre por hombres. En ocasiones, el autor te da a entender que es una historia que le ha ocurrido personalmente a él. Otras veces se hacen referencia a objetos, conceptos o animales como los protagonistas de los relatos.

Ya hemos dicho que Las noches difíciles es una recopilación de los cuentos del autor italiano. Fue la última que se publicó en vida del autor. Y, quizás por ello, los temas que barajan los cuentos con siempre los mismo o muy similares. La senectud, el paso del tiempo, la juventud arrogante o la muerte son temas constantes en esta colección, pero introducidos de manera amena, crítica e irónica. Para ello Buzzati siempre encuentra un resquicio para que el elemento sobrenatural aparezca conviviendo con lo cotidiano de manera que conformen una mirada única y privilegiada de la vida. Y eso sin hablar de que hay relatos que son puros ejercicios literarios de estilo, en los que el autor mezcla todo lo anteriormente descrito para configurar una narración única que no deja de fascinar y, por qué no decirlo, marear al desprevenido lector que no termina de ubicarse del todo dentro del universo de Buzzati.

En resumen, Las noches difíciles es una colección entretenida que invita a una aguda y lúcida reflexión sobre nosotros mismos y el mundo en el que nos movemos. Todo un reto poder alcanzar a descubrir nuestro entorno con los ojos de Buzzati, donde lo más mágico y lo más normal confluyen en nosotros mismos, cambiando nuestra manera de ser y estar. A partir de entonces todas las noches son difíciles.

[Sadeq · Rating 4 out of 5]

طبیعتا یک مجموعه از ۲۰ داستان در نظر هرکسی بالا و پایین داره اما چیزی که توجهم رو بارها در حین خوندن جلب کرد اینه که داستان‌های بوتزاتی کلاس درس نویسندگیه. داستان‌ها با هوش بالا برای گفتن مفاهیمی مختلف و نه چندان دم دستی طراحی شدن و با پی و ساختار و نمای زیبایی بنا شده‌اند.
داستان‌های بوتزاتی به طرز رشک برانگیزی سهل و ممتنع اند؛ گفتار استاندارد، ساده و قابل فهمی دارن (چیزی که متاسفانه برعکسش در داستان کوتاه‌های ایرانی معاصر مد شده) و مفاهیم بلند و لایه‌لایه‌ای رو در خودشون جادادن.

از ترجمه پرویز شهدی مطمئن بودم در خریدش شک نکردم. داستان آخر "سفر به دوزخ" هم که معرکه بود واقعا. تصور کن تونلی به جهنم باز شده، چی می‌بینی اونور؟

[Maurizio Manco · Rating 4 out of 5]

"L'uomo [...] è una imprevista anomalia verificatasi nel corso del processo evolutivo della vita, non il risultato a cui l'evoluzione doveva necessariamente portare. E' mai concepibile infatti che l'officina della natura mettesse determinatamente in circolazione un animale nello stesso tempo debole, intelligentissimo e mortale cioè inevitabilmente infelice?" (Che accadrà il 12 ottobre?, p. 115)

[Brandy Wilcox · Rating 5 out of 5]

I liked this short story because I am interested in myths about animals that live in the sea. Stefano asks his father to take him out to sea. However, when something appears in their wake his father becomes absolutely terrified. What appears is a Colomber, a mysterious shark that will follow it’s chosen victim until the end of it’s life. The boy’s father takes the boy back to shore and urges him to seek another dream. When Stefano becomes a man he pursues the life of a sea captain. What happens when he comes face to face with the Colomber? Will the Colomber attack him or have his intentions been misinterpreted all along?

Stefano is the son of a sea captain. He is described as being serious and eager. His father seems concerned for the welfare of his son. He is like any good father. The Colomber is portrayed as being mysterious throughout the story. That is, until he meets Stefano in the end and his true ambition in life shows.

The story does not specify where it takes place. The setting could take place at any time or place in history. The story is mainly set on or beside the sea. There would be a problem if there was no sea in the story because of the Colomber.

The main theme of the story is to face your fears. This is shown in the ending where Stefano and the Columber meet. Stefano was told by his father when he was young that the Colomber was a dangerous creature. Stefano was basically reflecting his fathers fear.

I would recommend this story to those who are younger as well as those who are into myths that revolve around the sea and it’s inhabitants. It is basically easy to understand throughout entire short story.

[Timons Esaias · Rating 4 out of 5]

Buzzati is an enjoyable discovery, and I'm only annoyed that it took me this long to become acquainted with his work. He was suggested to me by a friend, I scrounged two out-of-print volumes, of which this is the first I've read, and now I'm a fan.

The works are short fictions, in the mode of Calvino, some of Borges, or Dunyach. I suspect the influence (which is pretty universal among practitioners of the Weird) of Kafka. They are often absurd, and make excellent objects for meditation.

The second piece in this collection, "The End of the World," begins "One morning about ten o'clock an immense fist appeared in the sky above the city." What follows is careful focus on the reactions of certain people in the city, providing sharp social commentary. It reminded me of a very compressed version of James Morrow's Towing Jehovah. (The story is all about the reaction. The fist doesn't even get a chance to act.)

Kafka's "In the Penal Colony" is evoked by the story "Quiz at the Prison" in which we learn that in this prison the prisoners, through no system they can discern, are allowed, once in their sentence, to appeal to the masses in the square, for their freedom. Obviously the strategy to employ takes up much of their thought, day after day, year after year.

Many of the stories evoke the insoluble mysteries of life by proposing just one, very specifically insoluble mystery. That's a game a writer can go to repeatedly, and Buzzati has created quite a nice set of puzzles for us to test ourselves against.

[Paolo Ventura · Rating 3 out of 5]

L’inconnu déchargea la caisse et, après quelques pas, la lança dans le ravin, qui était plein de milliers et de milliers d’autres caisses identiques. Il s’approcha de l’homme et lui demanda : « Je t’ai vu sortir cette caisse de mon parc. Qu’est-ce qu’il y avait dedans ? Et que sont toutes ces caisses ? » L’autre le regarda et sourit : « J’en ai encore d’autres sur le camion, à jeter. Tu ne sais pas ? Ce sont les journées. — Quelles journées ? — Tes journées. — Mes journées ? — Tes journées perdues. Les journées que tu as perdues. Tu les attendais, n’est-ce pas ? Elles sont venues. Qu’en as-tu fait ? Regarde-les, intactes, encore pleines. Et maintenant… »
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« Monsieur ! cria Kazirra. Écoutez-moi. Laissez-moi emporter au moins ces trois journées. Je vous en supplie. Au moins ces trois. Je suis riche. Je vous donnerai tout ce que vous voulez. » Le manutentionnaire eut un geste de la main droite, comme pour indiquer un point inaccessible, comme pour dire qu’il était trop tard et qu’il n’y avait plus rien à faire. Puis il s’évanouit dans l’air, et au même instant disparut aussi le gigantesque amas de caisses mystérieuses. Et l’ombre de la nuit descendait.
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et puis à ce jeu que tu dis je sais très bien y jouer mais ça ne me va pas parce que tu sais ce que tu fais mais tu ne sais pas ce qui passe par la