A certain type of reader may find the book interesting.
Though, it is more of a pamphlet than a book, being 35 pages, with notes and an introduction. The reader would be completely at sea without a lifeboat if it weren’t for the notes, but they constitute a translation of a translation. The translator has translated the text, presumably intact, and then has to tell us what it means. The text seems to operate entirely through subtext and double meanings at the expense of context and any discernible continuity. Think Finnegans Wake. However, there is more lyrical pleasure in Joyce, and his experiment is lengthy enough to build its own lexical consistency. Within a single sentence of Lanmborghini’s work, the average and most careful readers will struggle to pull any meaning whatsoever. But the sentence by sentence meanings also do not add up to anything memorable in my opinion. There are plenty of political comments, and double and triple entendres, but why not state them within the confines of a story? Why not construct a dramatic context, instead of building word associations based on similar sounding words? I consider works like this a specialized exercise, like reading completed Sudoku puzzles. There is no enjoyment in the reading of this volume for me. Instead of buying it, I recommend you rent it from the library to see if you’re up for the challenge.