How do you understand this quote from Elsa Morante’s La Storia.
“A merrier baby than he had never been seen. Everything he glimpsed around him roused his interest and stirred him to joy. He looked with delight at the
threads of rain outside the window, as if they were confetti and multicolored streamers. And if, as happens, the sunlight reached the ceiling indirectly and
cast the shadows of the street’s morning bustle, he would stare as it fascinated, refusing to abandon it, as if he were watching an extraordinary display of
Chinese acrobats, given especially or him. You would have said, to tell the truth, from his laughter, from the constant brightening of his little face, that he
didn’t see things only in their usual aspects, but as multiple images of other things, varying to infinity. Otherwise, there was no explaining why the wretched,
monotonous scene the house offered every day could afford him such diverse, inexhaustible amusement.”