This lends them an air of mystery, heightened by the fact that they are considered legends.

Viola (CosimoвЂ™s fabulous love interest), the fruit thieves and Cosimo have, in common, an element of fiction about them: all three are spoken of before we truly get to know them, the way one would speak of neighborhood legends. The subtle strangeness is not limited to places and events: every character, in their own way, is rather odd, in appearance and/or behavior. What is more, the way the scenery is described is indeed otherworldly: the Ondariva garden particularly stands out, almost like a scene straight out of AliceвЂ™s Adventures in Wonderland. The passage reads like an epic poem, complete with twists and turns and a bloody victory for Cosimo. Other events occur, which challenge the feasibility of the story: at one point, Cosimo is attacked by a cat who, in truth, sounds more like some infernal beast, the product of a habitual liarвЂ™s fantasy. More than once, he almost falls to the ground, but saves himself (or is savedвЂ¦) in increasingly improbable ways. While it may be that Cosimo doesnвЂ™t want to come down, it almost seems like he couldnвЂ™t even if he tried. But in many subtle ways, readers come to understand that this tale is not rooted in reality. Additionally, every child has had, at some point, a fixation with a habit or hobby which drove their parent(s) crazy - here, itвЂ™s CosimoвЂ™s tree climbing. Although it is evidently a fabricated story, it has an aura of probability, as do most magical realism ones: Cosimo is a case study for a very (very) protracted tantrum. This extends to the content of CalvinoвЂ™s tale as well. At times, Biagio gives the readers insight into other charactersвЂ™ internal goings-on: the fruit thievesвЂ™В (a Lost Boys-like group of urchins) impressions about Cosimo, CosimoвЂ™s own rumination, the Generalessa (their mother)вЂ™s inherent understanding of the situation, etcвЂ¦ Again, this is something a strictly first person point-of-view should not have access to.

ItвЂ™s as if Biagio is extrapolating from things his brother has told him (which, if we think of unreliable narrators, could very well not be true), or else this is happening because of a certain looseness, a certain supernatural element in the narration. He вЂњfollowsвЂќ Cosimo in detail as he climbs and swings from trees, while admitting, at the same time, that from their position at the manor, the family can only see him flashing in and out of sight. This is not purely accidental: not only does he allow CosimoвЂ™s own accounts to take over his own (Cosimo, at one point, recounts his first foray into the garden of their neighbors, the Ondariva, where he will meet and fall in love with the heiress of the family), but much of the account Biagio gives is of things he could not possibly know. Biagio is so vague about his own involvement, and shows, at times, so little self-reference that it is easy to forget that he is not an omniscient narrator, but an actual part of the family. The latter is shown in the delegation of the role of protagonist: although CosimoвЂ™s younger brother Biagio is the primary voice through which the story unfolds, he is almost invisible, a mere relay to the true main character of CalvinoвЂ™s story: namely his older brother Cosimo - something even the title supports. Although it has its tragic undercurrents and surprisingly tender moments (occurring mostly between Cosimo and his father), the first few chapters of The Baron in the Trees are steeped in surrealism and the darkly comic, as highlighted by what the story tells, and the way it is told.

I oscillated, while reading both stories, between utter engrossment with the deep overarching themes, and having to seriously suspend my disbelief. Instantly,В I was reminded of one of my favorite books, VoltaireвЂ™s Candide, where larger-than-life, often nonsensical, always hilarious events unfold with mounting escalation. It shows that it is possible to tell stories that are only very slightly off kilter, peppered here and there with minor puzzling details, and which defy classification. Spoiler alert: he doesnвЂ™t.), CalvinoвЂ™s story is very subtle with its surreality, so much so that we could loosely classify it as fiction, not necessarily genre fiction but it is precisely this which gives me comfort. While the premise itself is out of the left field (Cosimo, the son of a baron in 18th century Italy decides heвЂ™s had enough of everything, climbs up a tree in his family's backyard, and vows never to come down.

ItвЂ™s easy to forget that most, (if not all)В genre stories, are more or less allegorical this is important to keep in mind because it drastically alters not only the meaning of the story, but the way it is interpreted by others.

Italo calvino the baron in the trees