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I dont think there are spoilers here. One never really knows. Move it if you will.


This book was a joy to read. The prose was outstanding and like an Evelyn Waugh novel, I felt I was being massaged by prose. Though it uses a relationship between 17 and 24 y/o men as a trope, I have put it in my literary-fiction category as well as Gay fiction. I think too that some 'straight' people can identify with the novel.

One reason I so loved this book, it that I identified so strongly with both Oliver and Elio. I was in high school from 1959 to 1963 and M/M relationships were still loves "that dare not speak its name". It was dangerous to be out in those days. Though this is not a strong thread in this novel, I saw saw undercurrents which perhaps came from my experience. Like Oliver, I got married, had kids, but I eventually had to come to terms with who I really was or die. How did Oliver's life change after the end of the story? I some ways Oliver reminded me of Clive in EM Forester's Maurice and Elio of Maurice and Scudder: Oliver (the American) giving in to societal expectations, Elio (the European) doing as he will, as his father taught him.

I had an infatuation much like Elio in my youth, and by stream of consciousness was much like Elio's, which drives this book. Though my thoughts did not have the masterful prose of Elio. Does anyone really think thoughts like that? And instead of a few weeks, mine went on for years. What I find interesting is that even today I can become the person I was in my fantasies and go right back in an instant to those lost days. I really grokked the last chapter of this book. For me though, hunger and fear was dominated by fear for so many many years and was never actualized.

I am told that the young growing up today have an easier time of exploration and self expression without being ostracized. I would really like to know how younger members of this group reacted to the novel.

I feel an urge to write André Aciman and just say, "Thank you."

These are my overall thoughts, about the novel. There is much else to discuss if you will.

Later...

I enjoyed this story, but not nearly as much as you did, Kernos. The prose was gorgeous, the setting vivid, and the youthful longing was very intense. It did take me quite a while to warm up to the two young men. Though the story was told from Elio's perspective, I still felt somewhat detached from his character. For a story about longing and passion, I felt the feelings and emotions in both men were disappointingly lacking.

I enjoyed this book very much. I loved the locations, the light, the summer, the passion of being young and in love, and the sensual writing. I really liked going into Elio's mind, the mind of an intellectual, precocious kid. He brought so much - so many references - to contemplating his relationships and his passions. I liked the combination of intellectual musings or meditations and innocence and raw sex and passion. That is a seductive combination. The novel felt European to me; it seemed less structured than an American novel. It was also a book about memory. I liked the latter part when the two meet again and discussed the past. I could identify with that.

I am surprised more people didn’t read and comment on this novel.

I know a few of you are reading this, or maybe finished?

We'd love to know your thoughts!

(Scott, Lucas?)

I listened to the audio book adaptation for this work. I had trouble connecting with Elio's erudite characterization. He's the type of person I don't think I could ever even engage in simple conversation. It uncomfortably reminded me how tragically lacking my American public school primary education must be compared to other parts of the world. I shook off my insecurity and tried to lean in and found that there was a lot more I had in common with him than I first imagined. I usually cringe at the overly pretentious, but I made an exception here--and I'm glad I did.

I finished this earlier this year. Here’s my review.

Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I have this thing I do, a personality quirk I suppose. See, I like to live in the books I read. To immerse myself in the setting, the time, the place, the world ... the reality of the narrative. Sometimes this happens effortlessly. Other times it doesn’t work at all. In cases were it doesn’t work, I usually don’t enjoy the book. Sometimes it can take me a long time to finish such a book. But there’s another case as well. These are the books that pull me into their reality as if it is my own, with no effort and no need to suspend disbelief. Usually it’s the language of these narratives that helps. Dense imagery that’s really layers of sensory stimulation. Sights. Smells. Sounds. Tastes. Tactile even. The corse texture of a towel or rough sheets. The billowy gossamer quality of shirt that’s so thin it’s almost ethereal. Sometimes it’s a character, or several. Like old friends or lovers that, when you meet again, perhaps even after years, it’s as if no time has passed at all. Like you pick up a conversation exactly where it had left off. Sometimes it’s because the experiences of the characters remind me of things I’ve lived through, survived. Sometimes it’s a combination of factors. In the case of this book, it’s that last, a combination. But. It’s also, very much, a similar experience. Almost overwhelmingly so. During the summer, when I was 18. Something happened. And it’s never left me. It never will. If it does, I won’t be me anymore. The experiences of the summer described in this book shaped and defined Elio in indescribable ways. I’ve got something similar in my history, so there’s that empathy with the character, but it also makes the book very personal to me.
Yes. Very personal.
This book is filled with beautiful language. It’s filled with interesting characters of depth and complex emotions. The narrative lives and breaths. This is a masterpiece.

I haven’t started Find Me yet.