Recently finished "A Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorio", a short novel I picked up at random at the designer/architect-centric book fair for half-off, and I really loved it. It has the same delightfully fussy formalism that I wanted to like in Calvino, but its execution really helps carry the story along here, helps structure it --- it doesn't feel as much as a mere "hey look what I can do". And the characters themselves are so perfect. They're mostly (with some exceptions), I'm not going to sugar-coat it, a bunch of doofuses and dipshits, but each in their own special way. And I can't help but feel a weird sympathy for even the most unsympathetic of them: these are humans, these are us, these are our failure modes.
Started reading Miranda July's "The First Bad Man", which K got me a while back and I finally felt in the right headspace for it. It's everything I expected so far, which is good.