Italian Folktales [ペーパーバック]

I first read this book years ago -- out loud, to my kids, and it quickly became a family favorite. Be aware that this collection isn't your usual compendium of "I've heard that before" stories. They're all rather strange; sometimes, they're downright weird, as if the good folk of traditional Italian villages were tuned into the X-Files several centuries ago. Some of them -- my favorite example is "Ari, Ari, Ari, Money, Money, Money" -- are flat-out, bust-your-gut hilarious.

If the stories don't do you in, you'll find some of the most gorgeous and unforgettable English you'll ever read, thanks to the brilliant translation. It's spare - it's closer to Hemingway than Faulkner, perfectly pitched to its task - and exquisitely structured and paced.

This is a book that truly belongs on every shelf. Give it for the holidays, birthdays, or for the hell of it -- and, please (if you love English and fine writing) treat yourself.

In the book's introduction, Mr. Calvino seems to regard his production of this almost 800-page volume as a sort of obligation. But in reading its pages, it's clear that it was really a labor of love, a massive project undertaken by an already established writer who had no need to produce something so unusual and challenging in order to help his own reputation.

But we are clearly better off because of he did produce it. Inside are exactly 200 precious stories, parables, fables, and good old fashioned yarns -- all of them plucked from the Italian folk tradition, dusted off, and improved by Mr. Calvino. I admit that "improved" is not a word I'd usually want to read in regard to a modern production of classic literature, but from the bits and pieces I know from experience, improvement was needed: many of the tales were originally published based on cobbled together version of traditional oral stories with partially-developed sub-plots and characters whose names or motives change partway through the story. I have seen the original Italian versions of at least three of the stories between this book's covers -- Fra Ignazio, Rosemary, and the Peacock Feather -- and was thoroughly confounded by the original, only to be charmed later by Mr. Calvino's cleaner and more thoughtful retellings.

It is important to remember that the Italian literary tradition dates further back in a direct line than any other in Western Europe: many of these tales were originally written in Italian long before the language evolved beyond being anything more than a vulgar street slang and when only Latin and Greek was spoken in the drawing rooms of literate Italians. And yet it wasn't until 1956 and Mr. Calvino's self-described obligation that more than a couple dozen or so of these wonderful stories was gathered in a single volume.

Hats off also to George Martin, Mr. Calvino's translator, surprisingly enough, for only this book. Mr. Martin does a terrific job of preserving Mr. Calvino's cadence and subtle linguistic flare, and he does it while staying away from the temptation of translating too literally, a flaw that has a hold on many less talented translators.