The Title is Covered by Steam and Smoke From the Locomotive, Deal With it or Cry— "If on a Winter's Night a Traveler" by Italo Calvino

11/10 rage bait— got me feeling like y/n. (but gimme more)!

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You are about to begin reading Gurman Lohcham’s new blog which I will not name as it is too complex and long. Relax. Concentrate. Snuggle deep into the covers of your bed, or rest your arms on your swiveling armchair in which you are seated. Perhaps you are on the floor. That is okay, I don’t recommend it though. Turn the lights on if it helps, or turn them off. Change into comfortable clothing if you’d like, or not. If it makes you itchy, then itch it. You feel hot? Open a window. Surroundings too loud? Yell “everybody shut up, I am trying to read Gurman’s blog!” Make sure you are loud enough that the others hear you, but not so loud that they get angry and further disturb your peace. If they refuse to listen, or simply cannot hear you, put on some music. Make sure it is without lyrics, so it does not distract you from the text you are about to read.

Now, don’t expect anything great. Lohcham works late into the night, typing hastily to publish this blog before the deadline. Prepare to read the trashiest analysis she’s ever written.

If on a winter’s night a traveler

The novel begins in a railway station, where a mysterious man carries an even more mysterious briefcase to who knows where.

Do you know where? You don’t.

I don’t either.

Then, right as the tension rises, thick like the fog covering the text on the screen, like the steam from the locomotive, the man—

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Um…

So basically, Calvino might as well have run you over with the train because what the heck!

You were invested, weren’t you? Well, too bad. Get used to it.

Before you know it, the same thing occurs several other times, as you transport between universes and timelines.

Some touch on sex and sensuality, while others focus on peculiar characters, like a man who runs from telephones. Why? You won’t found out.

It’s best that you don’t get too invested in these stories. Your heart will break, and you will become frustrated.

In a network of lines that intersect

You begin to think the stories have no connection. How could they?

Right?

Wrong!

Don’t ask Lohcham how though, she’s just as clueless as you, a bit like the Reader, who searches endlessly for texts without endings to no avail.

What about you, dear reader? Have you discovered the endings?

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From the diary of Gurman Lohcham

As frustrated as I got reading this novel (I tossed the book across the room more times than I could count), I left wanting more, and not just due to the several open-endings I was forced to sit through. The novel genuinely intrigued me the whole way through, though there were many scenes that felt a bit too slow for my liking.

One of my favorite aspects of this novel was the sense of intimacy it provided for me as a reader. I felt a deep connection to Ludmilla specifically, as I found my passion for reading embodied through her character.

A major theme throughout the narrative is censorship, which stood out to me from the first story, and continues as each story remains only a fragment of some bigger unknown narrative. If on a winter’s night a traveler evokes feelings of suspense and paranoia, as the man with the briefcase suspects he is being watched. Leaning from the steep slope hints at a conspiracy to break people out of prison, and this rebellion of sorts is also seen in Without fear of wind or vertigo, which depicts spies infiltrating revolutionaries.

In the final few chapters, the Reader (You) is arrested in a country with banned books, and sent to a prison which houses said books. However, You are quickly released and sent on a mission to another country that bans other books for completely different reasons. I found it odd how the Reader originally complained when his own book was taken from his hands, but later ended up enacting the censorship himself.

Overall, I found the novel to be very thought-provoking and complex. I would love to give it another read to see what other connections and details I might have missed!

Also, I love how the Reader literally chased after endings just to talk to Ludmilla… find you a person who is that dedicated, if at all.

What story down there awaits its end?

Question of the week: “In ancient times a story could only end in two ways: having passed all the tests, the hero and the heroine married, or else they died” (Calvino, 1979, p. 259). I personally did not like the fact that You and Ludmilla got married…

Considering it is clearly no longer ancient times, how else would you have liked this novel to end? Does it necessarily need an ending?