Italo Calvino’s creative work “Mr. Palomar” is interesting in that he creates a character who values exactitude not specifically of language but more so in behavior and understanding, and in doing so becomes an utterly exhausting individual who, in his conquest for profundity, completely loses touch with reality. In this way Calvino both sharpens his description of exactitude while poking fun at those who apply it incorrectly. Mr. Palomar is fascinating in that his pretension is so patently obvious and he is utterly oblivious to it. His striving for exactitude is underscored by his continuous notion that his specific account of things, his accurate perception of them, is imperative on a universal scale. He must witness the moon, the wave, the breast — else how could they possibly go on? Mr. Palomar bears a seeming allegiance to something greater urging him to exactly identify a single wave. Calvino characterizes Mr. Palomar as a “nervous man who lives in a frenzied and congested world,” who “tends to reduce his relations with the outside world,” and “tries to keep his sensations under control as much as possible.” His life views are projected upon his observation of the water, as “the indentations in the brow of the wave must be considered.” Calvino pokes fun at the irony of the situation — effectively communicating that this is not the kind of exactitude he meant — by noting that “if it were not for [Mr. Palomar’s] impatience to reach a complete, definitive conclusion of his visual operation, looking for waves could be a very restful exercise for him.” Such misplaced exactitude is futile, Calvino conveys, as rather than perceiving “the true substance of the world beyond sensory and mental habits,” Mr. Palomar “feels a slight dizziness, but it goes no further than that.”