A Book a Day, Day 2 ... Invisible Cities
Okay. So I'm the last person on the planet to read Italo Calvino. A friend lent me the book, and I was immediately entranced by the language, the crazy historical mixed with contemporary, the conversations (or non conversations) between Kublai Khan and Marco Polo. Plus, I really, REALLY like to say "Kublai Khan."
Say it.
Pretty cool, huh?
Invisible Cities is magical. It's like reading about nooks and crannies so personal in our own cities that, over the course of the book, I felt like some of Marco Polo's cities and descriptions were of him holding a mirror to my own. And I really had to pay attention. It's not a lazy read. It's short and deceivingly "quick," but it takes time. It's almost meditative, like Marco Polo's telling of the story to Kublai Khan. (See, got to write it again!).
It's lyrical. It's philosophical. It's scathing. It's satirical. It's uncomfortable. It's a celebration. It's the poetry of the unspoken in unexpected friendships ... It's Invisible Cities.
Say it.
Pretty cool, huh?
Invisible Cities is magical. It's like reading about nooks and crannies so personal in our own cities that, over the course of the book, I felt like some of Marco Polo's cities and descriptions were of him holding a mirror to my own. And I really had to pay attention. It's not a lazy read. It's short and deceivingly "quick," but it takes time. It's almost meditative, like Marco Polo's telling of the story to Kublai Khan. (See, got to write it again!).
It's lyrical. It's philosophical. It's scathing. It's satirical. It's uncomfortable. It's a celebration. It's the poetry of the unspoken in unexpected friendships ... It's Invisible Cities.
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