thestoryhunt-blog

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Wish I could leave one of my books in each shop on this list!

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how to like a calvino book

Today I noticed that I still owe you a short review of my most recent hidden book, Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller. When I told my friends about my plan to bring this particular volume with me to hide it in Asia, I received many cheerful reactions and yet, what I found most thought-provoking was not one of the approving comments. On a night out at the theatre a friend of mine asked me with honest curiosity about my reason for choosing this book and whether I liked it. It occurred to me that this is a most relevant question about Calvino and this book in particular. If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller does not offer an easy-to-consume story to the reader; strictly speaking, it does not even have a plot (but many). For a Calvino book, especially this one, you would need a special time and space in your life. Unless you pick up the volume at the right moment, the story will probably fail to enchant you. On the contrary, it will leave you bored.

The Storyteller of the book describes the circumstances you need to enjoy If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller quite accurately: “You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a Winter's Night a Traveller. Relax. Concentrate. Dispel every other thought. Let the world around you fade. Best to close the door; the TV is always on in the next room.” A most ambiguous opening this one is, as it can suggest the rare pleasure of an exciting story that leaves you oblivious about your surroundings, or it can indicate a story of a rather different kind – one that requires hard work from the reader. Well, this book is the latter, but I found myself so involved in this self-reflective work that I usually had to concentrate hard not to miss my bus stop when reading it.

In this story Calvino plays with form, genre and reader at the same time, trying to intimidate his audience by forcing them first to put themselves into the place of a male character, then, with a sudden shift he makes the female character the main point of reference. His playful attitude requires the reader (or the Reader, as he calls them in his book) to make an effort and work on the story almost at the same time as the writer. However, this is not a co-operation between equals: the author will never stop being superior.

To be frank, we all need some light entertainment from time to time; a book that does not want anything else, but drag the reader into a great story. If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller is not for these moments. It is a work that likes showing off, that invites you on a journey but will constantly get you lost – just like the smooth voice of your GPS. But isn't it great sometimes to follow a path unwalked and indulge in a great piece of highbrow literature?

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This is the place where I left my copy of Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller. Despite the name, the offer of food and drink at Dasa Book Cafe appears to be marginal in the shadow of the crowded bookshelves, with only one table to accommodate those who are not thirsty only for words, but a real drink too. On the other hand though, their selection of secondhand fiction and non-fiction in English language is truly amazing. They have somthing new for travellers and expats every day, and the staff is most helpful and welcoming so long as you don’t want to bring in food from the street or copy the content of the books. Buy and don’t steal the words, sounds like a fair slogan.

Address: 714/4 Sukhumvit Road (Soi 26-28)Klongtan, Klongtoey Bangkok 10110 The shop is 5-minute walk from Phrom Pong Skytrain station.

Opening hours: 10am to 8pm every day

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That’s the book. And the place; that’s Bangkok.

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Long novels written today are perhaps a contradiction: the dimension of time has been shattered, we cannot love or think except in fragments of time each of which goes off along its own trajectory and immediately disappears. We can rediscover the continuity of time only in the novels of that period when time no longer seemed stopped and did not yet seem to have exploded, a period that lasted no more than a hundred years.

A novel about travelling through space, time and stories; the most fitting book to be hidden during my trip.

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impotant notice

At the moment I am travelling in Asia, so it will be a while before I could hide my second book in London. I won't abandon the project in the meantime though; I hope that this journey will provide a great opportunity to hide my first book abroad! I already have one in mind, so watch this place for the quote and hints regarding the location.

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Voilá. My second hidden book is going to be this one; an English copy of the Hungarian classic, The Paul Street Boys. I am going to look for a secondhand bookshop in Central London, and a person with a very curious taste in childrens' stories will be invited to look for my message.

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In pairs and threes they started away along the dark street toward Üllői Avenue. All of them were tired by now, exhausted by the strain of battle. A chill wind, a sharp spring wind, swept the street, wafting from the hilltops the cold breath of melting snow.

From my second book to be hidden

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my first hidden book

My dedication hidden in a copy of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay goes to the person who introduced me to the two brilliant characters of this story. 

It took me three days to finish the story, and once it was over, I felt dizzy. Hit by the fever of course, but besides that, by something else as well. A strong, long invited feeling: the magic of meeting one of the best books of my life. I can’t tell anymore how far I had to get into the story to feel that electric vibration in my guts, the clear sign of only two things in the world: falling in love or having come across an extraordinary story. Perhaps I fell in love with the story when the Escapist, the comic book hero of Josef Kavalier and Sam Clay came into life as the result of their shared imagination. Or maybe even sooner, when Kavalier, the young Jewish immigrant arrived to the unknown world of the US, feeling foreign, guilty and alien – pretty similar to how I used to feel in the big city of London. 

Nonetheless, as I got engaged in their process of dreaming and creating amazing stories, the book itself invited me on a journey into a fantastic world, that I enjoyed more than anything at that time. Kavalier and Clay is a page turner of the best kind, which keeps you reading only partially because you recognise the characters of your own life in them, but also because it opens a window on a new world that you have never seen before. The building bricks of this universe one by one will be familiar to the reader, but Michael Chabon's pen constructs them into something that is beyond reality. It’s the magic of the Escapist.

My story can only be completed with your contribution, dear Reader. Today, when you read my post, I gave you a book. If you go hunting for hidden book, which I hope you will, make sure to have this one on you, as it will be needed to make my message complete.

I left my copy of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay at Calder Bookshop Theatre in Waterloo. You can find out more about the place in this post.

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I found my first bookshop today. Calder Bookshop and Theatre is a tiny little place, specialising in theatre and politics. It is situated opposite the Young Vic in Waterloo, with an inviting selection of books outside of the shop, and many more to chose from if you go inside. Hidden behind the rear shelves there is a nice little independent theatre with mostly left-wing political plays on the stage. The atmosphere is nice and inviting. What else can I say, they were happy to let me leave my Michael Chabon book hidden under a tower of precious, old librettos!

Opening hours: Mon to Sat: 11 to 9 Sun: 1 to 7

Address: 51 The Cut London, SE1 8LF

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Ta dah! Here is the book itself. The message is under construction, now I only need to find a secondhand bookshop in South London. This is a harder task then I would have thought, sadly, these little gems are closing down one by one...

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It was, in part, a longing – common enough among the inventors of heroes – to be someone else; to be more than the result of two hundred regimens and scenarios and self-improvement campaigns that always ran afoul of his perennial inability to locate an actual self to be improved

From the first book I am going to hide.

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hi there!

This is how I got to create this blog. My aim is to leave hidden words in books, which then I would place in secondhand bookshops all around the world, as milestones along my journey that life takes me on. I want to reach out to people with my own words and the fables of others who authored my hidden books. This is a personal quest to prove that Facebook is not the only way to establish human connections and that there is a certain value in the physical copy of a book, which digital form could never replace. A cracked cover, the yellowed pages open up a new world beyond the one written by the author. All these signs are left there by the previous owner - perhaps owners - of the object, whispering about an old man whose whole collection of marvelous tales ended up on the shelves of a store. Or else, a student, who valued the new more than the old, or… Or a girl. Who started hiding books, trying to steal back a little bit of magic into the world.

Join me in this game, and go hunting for my books. Before the fun begins though, I have two personal dedications. I couldn’t resist the temptation to invite two special people for a ‘dance’; I hope they will accept the challenge and my message will reach them. After I had paid my tribute to these guys, I am going to dedicate my chosen books to the finder of each item, which I will hide in a different secondhand bookshop in London, Ireland, France, Spain, Hungary, or anywhere else on the Globe where I once got inspired by a particular story. Besides the dedication, each book will have the address of the blog, as an invitation for the reader to share his or her part of the hunting game with us. I hope some people will like my idea and look up some of these hidden books, but even more, I hope that one day there will be someone who stumbles upon one of my books on a dusty shelf by pure accident, and following the clues, will find me here.