This being the first encounter with Dino Buzzati’s work, I was definitely positively surprised, judging by the fact of how I chose to buy the book. It has been standing around on my bookshelf for at least five-six years, having picked it up in a little French town from a shelf outside on the street, being drawn in by the minimalist cover.

It’s a collection of about two dozens of different short stories and even though I only highlighted about five-six of them as my absolute favourite ones, it’s been an enjoyable read. Some stories left you completely confused, wondering what the hell that was, some literally made you break out in tears, others made you chuckle while reading them, each of them sprinkled with a special kind of atmosphere.

Even though their style is not quite similar, Buzzati’s worlds somehow reminded me of the ones of Haruki Murakami, with some sort of an other-worldly touch. I really appreciated the cynically-comical twists and turns, autobiographical parallels, with the author’s name popping up here and there, as well as a strong relatability to the current modern world. A well deserved grade of 3 out of 5 stars (a 3 instead of a 4 because a bit too many stories were really tedious to get through).

★★★☆☆ (3/5)