I was assigned the story by the American literary magazine McSweeney's to translate from Italian. I'd never read Pontiggia before. As I translated it I really admired its economy and humour, and its somewhat anti-Italian spirit. There's nothing beautiful in it, and no reverie. It's all hard edges, like a piece by Moravia – but funnier. I think it's interesting to see a writer working against the grain of his culture.