The problems with translations is, of course, that if what you read doesn’t quite strike a chord then it’s impossible to know if the source of this discomfort is the original work or the translation.
Marcel Ayme’s “The Man Who Walked Through Walls” (translated by Sophie Lewis) is a bit like that for me: discomfort. I feel that it’s not too far away from being a good – if whacky! – collection of stories, but that it just falls short somehow.