Travis had not encountered the book before, did not recognize it, which is why he picks it up off the shelf. More perplexing still is the fact that it is written in Spanish. He feels pretty sure that means the book belongs to Ian (who had spent a year in Spain and was the only person Travis knew that was fluent). A few days later he takes it over the TKE house with him and Ian recognizes it immediately. “Oh yeah. Perez Galdos—cool stuff.” Ian is remembering the book as he flips through it. “Yeah, yeah, check it out: the first line reads:”

I do not exist… and just in case some suspicious, stubborn, ill-meaning person won’t believe what I say so plainly, or should demand some sort of sworn testimony before believing it–I swear, I really swear that I do not exist.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Some Spanish writers of the time were really into the idea that the characters shouldn’t be subject to the story line–that plot shouldn’t push them around like in older novels–but the concept of an omniscient narrator kind of ruins that.”

“Oh, ’cause everything seems all laid out.”

“Yeah. So he just comes right out and says that he’s a figment. Boom. No narrator.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.”

Read the whole thread: Incunabula, Unthreaded