INCUBUS by Giuseppe Berto. 388 pages. Knopf. $5.95.
James Joyce demonstrated among other things that even in the works of a genius the stream of consciousness not infrequently turns out to be a Mississippi of malarkey, but the lesson seems to have been lost upon Giuseppe Berto, a well-known Italian novelist (Il Cielo รจ Rosso) whose obvious talents fall considerably short of genius but whose latest novel, Incubus, nevertheless opens the sluices of association and requires the reader to navigate as best he can a torrent of reminiscence, admittedly autobiographical but attributed in the text to an aging author who some years...
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