This is a difficult one to rate. The narrative weaves back and forth between the MC's rather tedious and impoverished existence and his daydreams, which are so vivid as to sublimate reality. As someone given to vivid daydreaming, I completely relate to this, even if it can make for a disorienting reading experience at times. Queneau's wordplay is dazzling at times and very funny, even in translation. It's not quite like anything I've ever read 👇