Superbly translated by Martin McLaughlin, these letters place Calvino in the larger frame of 20th-century Italy and provide a showcase for his refined and civil voice. His widow, the Argentinian Chichita Calvino, has been careful to exclude all personal and love letters, as Calvino was jealous of his privacy. I must confess a personal interest. In 1983, as a callow 22-year-old, I wrote to Calvino requesting an interview in Rome. To my amazement, he agreed. In his flat near the Pantheon he leafed through the many pages of questions I presented. “Troppo, troppo, too many,” he said.