Cesar Pavese’s novella The House on the Hill  has an unconventional structure, one that lulls the reader into thinking things will be one way, and then showing them as being different, thereby underscoring the story’s point about wartime trauma. As mentioned last time, the story, which takes place during a “state of siege” in 1943 Italy, has to do with a man—the narrator—who escapes the nightly bombing of Turin by going to the countryside. There he meets Cate, a fellow refuge

Last time, we talked about how Pavese’s The House on the Hill  fits/doesn’t fit into expectations of traditional story structure. Essentially, this is the story of a 40-year-old man, a teacher, who is living in the midst of WWII in Turin, Italy. To escape the nightly Allied bombing raids, he and many others go to the countryside to sleep, returning to the city in the morning to work. The narrator—this man—is single; he ruminates at length about how a solitary life is the best

I have decided not to do a post this week on Pavese's The House on the Hill . Why? you ask. I had one ready but was not satisfied. The story is so great, and I felt my post was not doing it justice. I will return next week, never fear.

Traditionally, stories, long and short, follow a structure—in fact one who veers very far out of this structure risks losing a reader’s attention, conditioned as we are to the familiar. A story is typically about the transformation or failed transformation of a central character who may or may not be the narrator. A story begins with the showing of this character’s existence pre-transformation. A short way in, an event occurs which sets the process of transformation into moti

This week, a new work, Cesare Pavese’s semi-autobiographical 1949 novella, The House on the Hill . I am reading a 1968 New York Review of Books edition that includes three other of Pavese’s short novels, The Selected Works of Cesare Pavese . The story begins: “For a long time we had talked of the hill as we might have talked of the sea or the woods.” In classic story-telling fashion, we the readers are presented with a first person narrator, an “I,” who looks back from the fu