Call Me by Your Name (MTI): A Novel

Oh my, what to say, what to say... Call Me by Your Name was enchanting and enthralling in every possible way. Written in a stream of conscious style, 17 year old Elio pulls the reader into his world and brings them along for every thought, every moment, every impulse that passes through his mind. It's an intimate, sometimes awkward ride, but you can't help but connect with Elio's exasperated attempts to make sense of himself and his emotions as he navigates a tricky relationship. There are hundreds of things that make this story worth consuming, but I'll start with what has stuck with me the most: the atmosphere. Elio's family owns an Italian villa in the small town of B and the European, lazy summertime environment leaks from every page. From incessant cigarette consumption to hours spent reading by the pool and taking trips to swim and traveling to bookshops in town, Elio's romantic endeavors are paralleled perfectly by his romantic environment. I'll be honest, I'm writing this review after also having seen the movie and then immediately preceding to read the book for a second time, so perhaps the images from the book and film are intertwining in my mind, though flipping back through the pages, I find lines on every page that just ooze sexual tension and summer heat. Elio's thoughts are confused and honest, fully encompassing the battle between his emotional and intellectual hemispheres. He's impulsive but reflective, somewhat timid in nature but tends to be forward in his speech. Dialogue is woven into thought, Elio's fantasies feel as real as his physical connections and every emotion he describes feels open and true. No complications in Oliver and Elio's relationship are glossed over and every moment of doubt and discomfort is identified and analyzed. I guess if there's one thing about this narrative that feels unique in comparison to most romantic books I've read, it's the unwavering honesty on every page. I will admit, this read is intense and at times uncomfortable (I can think of one or two now infamous scenes in particular) but there are moments in this book that took my breath away. The novel's third part was by far my favorite as it shows Oliver and Elio at their brightest, clad in love and acceptance among Rome's beautiful backdrop and it's definitely a section I appreciated more the second time through knowing the pains of the final act to follow. Overall, there is so much I could say about this book; the story hasn't left my mind at all these last few weeks. I'm encouraging everyone I know to dive headfirst into this beautiful story whatever order they wish to consume it. (I recommend 1. soundtrack, 2. book, 3. film). This is a book I'm sure I'll be picking up again this Summer, though unfortunately, not in Italy :( (4.75/5 stars)

Andre Aciman says more about love, passion, desire, sorrow and loss in only 248 pages in CALL ME BY YOUR NAME-- the story lives up to everything the beautiful title suggests-- than seems humanly possible. Elio, a precocious seventeen-year-old, falls hopeless, totally for Oliver, a twenty-four-year old from Columbia University who comes to stay with Elio's family for six weeks in an idyllic Italian sun-drenched summer. We see the events as they unfold through the eyes of the narrator Elio who is beautiful, bright, sexy and full of reckless abandon as only the very young can be. His and Oliver's story is universal and as old as civilization itself. None of us will ever forgot our first lover when his absence was unbearable but his presence was frightening and all-consuming. It is impossible to do justice to this book as it is almost an extended poem. Like all poetry, it can survive dissection, but the least said about it, the better. A word to the reader, however: Beware. You will care desperately about these two men as well as other well-drawn characaters, particularly Elio's father, who is so gentle, so kind, so intuitive, such a wise parent and the tragic Vimini, who is ten years old at the beginning of the novel that covers a span of twenty years. Mr. Aciman's beautiful prose is both poetic and profound: Words get turned around, turned in on themselves, used again in a different setting or context. Elio's quotation of Shelley's friends words, "heart of hearts," as he seized the dead poet's heart out of his body as he was being cremated, turns up again near the end of the novel as an inscription on a post card that Oliver ["'I've never said anything truer in my life to anyone'"] hopes his son will one day bring to Elio. Elio on Oliver: "You are my homecoming." "I look back on those days and regret none of it, not the risks, not the shame, nor the total lack of foresight." Finally his words to Oliver near the end of the novel: "'You are the only person I'd like to say goodbye to when I die, because only then will this thing I call my life make any sense. And if I should hear that you died, my life as I know it, the me who is speaking with you now, will cease to exist.'" Mr. Aciman's descriptions of these two men's lovemaking is as torrid as the Italian sun; what these men do with a ripe peach is as erotic as anything D. H. Lawrence every wrote. Like all great literature, this novel will remind you of other fine fiction: for example, James Joyce's long short story about tragic lost young love, "The Dead," as well as Annie Proulx's more recent and much praised "Brokeback Mountain." CALL ME BY YOUR NAME is one of the rarest of novels. You are at once so caught up in its drama that you race through it but hope it will never end since you fear that these two characters whom you care about so deeply will not grow old together. Novels like this one never go out of style.

Admittedly, this book starts out almost painfully slow, with a lead-up to the romance that's near torturous when accompanied by the main character and narrator's obsessive thoughts, with the only thing keeping the reader engaged the dangling promise that these two idiots will, eventually, get together. But once it gets going, oh boy does it get going. Let me preface my praises of this book by saying that I had a difficult, love-hate relationship with Elio (protagonist and narrator). His obsessive reading, re-reading, over-reading, over-re-reading into every little look, word, silence, and lack of look, borders on the hysterical if not out-right insane and nearly drives this book's readers (or me, at least) insane right along with him. Not to mention that it nearly breaks the taut string suspending the reader's disbelief because honestly, what teenage even speaks let alone THINKS like this? But after reaching the second act, it's quite clear that this obsessiveness is what has isolated him from his peers and why he searches to be so completely understood by someone like Oliver, who speaks his same coded language of gestures and unspoken words - even though they're often not on the same wave length. Elio's fevered imaginings also make him an almost delightfully unreliable narrator, where something he narrates early on as fact (e.g. the cold, death-glares he'd receive from Oliver) turn out to be misguided by his prejudices and not true at all. It lends a tender, nostalgic quality to the whole thing (which is already close to bursting with nostalgia), knowing that all the events are not as they were but merely as he remembers them. I came to realize that the story was painful to read because it was a painfully exact replica of what it is to be a teenager, and not because it was poorly written or ill-conceived. It intentionally takes its readers back to a time when your insides were on your outsides, all your feelings exposed, leaving you raw and vulnerable, so that every glance, every snide remark, especially from the person you're infatuated with, is like hot knives on your bare flesh. The reason I was so infuriated with Elio was because I was infuriated with myself, when I was a teenager, and felt and behaved the exact same way. Elio, despite his staggering intellect for a seventeen-year-old, is a profound idiot just like I was a profound idiot. The meat of the story is the romance between our leads, slow and painful in its engineering (like a roller-coaster going up), terrifying, rocketing, elating, wonderful when it's happening (the roller-coaster plummeting), that leaves you aching, dizzy, and nauseous in its denouement (the end of the ride). You spend so much time worshiping Oliver through Elio's eyes that when he turns out to be the coward, you refuse to believe it, until you're dragged unwillingly to the book's end are slapped in the face with the reality that yes, Oliver was the coward all along. This is probably one of the most erotic reads of the 21st century, thanks in no small part to the breathless suspense leading up to their first encounter together, but also because the author understands how sensuality is enhanced by disgust. Even though the book sometimes crosses the thin line between sexy gross and full blown gross-out (by the end of the book ALL of the bodily fluids have been prominently featured), it leaves the burning, frenzied sensuality at its core stronger for it. I am confident that the movie adaptation (which I'll be watching soon) will be a perfect companion to this book, as it likely won't suffer from the book's flaws, such as being overly verbose, and its slow pacing on screen will probably feel more like sexual tension than having your nails being summarily torn from your fingers. Nonetheless, the novel contains some of the most stellar, quotable lines you'll ever encounter, and such gut-wrenching realism surrounding its heartbreak that you'll feel it as a hot knife across your raw skin. If I could say one thing to this novel it would be: I'll die if you stop.

I couldn’t easily place this book. I guess it falls in the category of summer romance, a story of the sudden passions that arise in the freedom and heat of vacation but don’t and can’t last when autumn comes. The book focuses on a highly educated and sensitive teenage boy living with his family in Italy who host a young American male professor for the summer. The boy quickly falls in a hopeless crush with the professor that at first left me confused. Where did this come from? But living in a beautiful Italian villa with every need supplied by the father’s bank account and household help what else is there to do? I suppose transcribing Hayden’s sonatas, quoting Dante, and hanging out with local Italian kids grows boring after a while. The first half of the book happens mostly in the boy’s mind who obsessively questions and analyzes every word and action of his beloved. So intense is this potent mix of sexual attraction, jealousy, and insecurity that it seems that he spends as much time avoiding the professor as chasing after him, just to find some peace of mind. Meanwhile, in the world outside the boy’s mind, life goes on. He swims, hangs out with his friends, and has sex with a local girl but it barely registers with him as he longs for some perfection that seems just out of reach. When it becomes apparent that the professor is attracted to him as well and they finally have sex about halfway through the book, the boy seems quite ready to experience all aspects of sex with another man. Which was like he'd been there before; maybe kids nowadays know everything. But it seems there is some story there that is unspoken. Is the boy really that innocent? The more I write this review the more I dislike the book for its unwillingness to look under its magical spell and see the loneliness, isolation and unhappiness of love divorced from reality. A love that is more about losing oneself (hence the title Call Me by Your Name, you are me, I am you, get it?) then about the joy of discovering and connecting with someone else. The story seems suspended from any real consequences. Does the boy eventually understand and accept his homosexuality so he can form a healthy relationship? No, in fact the only other gay characters in the book are held up for derision. Does anyone question the morality of the professor for sleeping with a younger and practically illegal boy? No, in fact, in a rather squirm-producing scene, the boy's father hints that he approved of the affair and wished he had something like that too. The boy seems trapped by this love, not freed. Many years later the two men meet and it seems like nothing much has happened in his life. No mention of a fruitful career or solid relationship. He seems in a trance-like state remembering the ashes of his once perfect love and hasn’t moved on. Maybe this book could be a better ghost story than a love story. But it needs a little more flesh on it to be that. In spite of all this, the book is a beautiful evocation of an idealized romance and certainly everyone, myself included, will recognize the pangs of one’s first crush and hopeless love. Its writing and evocation of time and place is excellent. If you accept it at that, I heartily recommend it.

PUB DATE: 9/21/17 by Atlantic Books PAGES: 248 RATING: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ GENRE: Coming-of-Age/Contemporary Fiction/LGBTQ LITERARY AWARDS: The Publishing Triangle Award for the Ferro-Grumley Awards (2008), and Lambda Literary Award Winner for Gay Fiction (2007) SUMMARY: Call Me by Your Name is the story of a sudden & powerful romance that blossoms between an adolescent boy and a summer guest at his parents' cliff-side mansion on the Italian Riviera. Unprepared for the consequences of their attraction, at first each feigns indifference. But during the restless summer weeks that follow, unrelenting buried currents of obsession & fear, fascination & desire, intensify their passion as they test the charged ground between them. What grows from the depths of their spirits is a romance of scarcely six weeks' duration & an experience that marks them for a lifetime. For what the two discover on the Riviera & during a sultry evening in Rome is the one thing both already fear they may never truly find again: total intimacy. The psychological maneuvers that accompany attraction have seldom been more shrewdly captured than in André Aciman's frank, unsentimental, heartrending elegy to human passion. Call Me by Your Name is clear-eyed, bare-knuckled, & ultimately unforgettable. REVIEW: I read this beautiful book during COVID and it is one that I will always recommend as one of my favorite heart-wrenching love stories! The movie (starring Timothee Chalamet) is a book to screen adaptation I adore and have I’ve seen probably 100 times. Director Luca Guadagnino beautifully brings this tale of first love and self-realization to life! Equally exquisite is the Northern Italian countryside & architecture that fills almost every scene. I highly suggest reading the sequel, “Find Me,” which takes you into the future lives of Oliver, Elio, and Elio’s father. This is one of my top 5 books of all time, including the movie! *swoon!* Happy Reading! 🍑

I have to watch the movie but the book was not life changing but I read it on my birthday and the day before my birthday it was pretty good I thought of Timothée Chalamet every time I read elio. justice for marzia

Spoilery "Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light years away." Call Me By Your Name is a superlative novel that meticulously and comprehensively looks at the human condition from the folly of youth to the introspective later years. Told almost entirely from the stream of consciousness mind of a seventeen year old Elio, who simultaneously possesses intelligence beyond his years whilst embodying the insouciance of youth and trafficking in the same inane fickleness of the average teen in matters of the heart, and in him Aciman’s crafted a character that is quintessentially relatable. I was immediately transported back to my own teenage years. I remember being that person, though Elio is leaps and bounds more intelligent at seventeen than I could ever hope to be then or now. The profundity of his insights are staggering and keenly observant. But the games are the same, the angst the same, the intensity the same and, most importantly, the devotion the same. "There is a law somewhere that says that when one person is thoroughly smitten with the other, the other must unavoidably be smitten as well. […] Love, which exempts no one who’s loved from loving, Francesca’s words in the Inferno. Just wait and be hopeful. I was hopeful, though perhaps this was what I had wanted all along. To wait forever." First loves are oftentimes the hardest to let go of; they leave an indelible mark. For Elio, Oliver is that person. Oliver, the doctoral student who came to stay with him and his parents one summer in Italy, left a watermark on Elio’s soul. Six unforgettable weeks and an intimacy forged that some have no hope of ever attaining. They lived. They loved. They became a part of each other. People talk about the “simplicity” of youth but to my mind it was never simple. Elio has never been in love before and when you don’t know a thing it’s hard to know what to do with it, how to care for it, how to keep it. At seventeen he can’t possibly understand the rarity of his connection with Oliver, so he tells himself there will be another and there are, that it was never intended to last and maybe it wasn't, that is was a summer fling, but who's to say that makes it any less seminal? That’s what Aciman has done so masterfully with this novel; is it or isn’t it? Aciman has crafted his own Mona Lisa with Elio. "All that remains is dreammaking and strange remembrance." Life goes on, people drift in and out of our lives; some leave a lasting impression while others are evanescent. Oliver left a space to be certain, but Elio left one too and maybe those spaces are capricious depending on time and space. "-how we move through time, how time moves through us, how we change and keep changing and come back to the same." The ebbs and flows of life transmogrify memories; make them sharper at times and less so at others, depending on where one is in life. Again, I think this is the genius of this novel: it’s not a singular experience. I’ve no doubt if I reread it in 5 or 10 yrs I’ll have a different interpretation; a change in perspective and the whole thing looks completely different and I feel like the same can be said of Elio. Will it always come back to Oliver or is that they’re in the same place where so much occurred twenty years ago? That place that meant so much from the berm to Mafalda and his parents to the bookstore to playing the guitar to paradise to afternoon naps and lazy days and nights spent f***ing each other’s brains out. Is it so much Oliver or it is the desire to recapture that place, that time? The romantic in me wants to wallow in the heartbreak and vilify Aciman for countermanding the rules of romancelandia, but to simplify this novel in such a way, to make it solely about loss is a disservice to the narrative. It’s more than that. "Time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, in the end, it is because of time that we suffer." The complexities of Call Me By Your Name left me feeling mawkish, clearly, but it also made me contemplative. Maybe I missed the point and it is solely a novel of love and loss with the primary objective being bittersweet heartbreak, but I choose to believe (this time) that Aciman deliberately penned a novel to make every reader take stock and cherish what they have, what they have had and what they will have. There aren’t very many novels I can say the same about.

Alright, so I didn't finish the book. Will I ever? I don't know. The hype around the movie got me curious, so I threw down the ten bucks after reading the preview. I thought Aciman's writing was pretty decent. Not anything phenomenal. Given, it's been a long while since I've come across any particular writing style and been like YES. JUST. YES. I didn't dislike the writing style. Even with all the purple prose, I still found it pleasant and melodious. I'm normally not much for prose-y writing, but I felt it was done in a tasteful and refreshing fashion so I stuck it out. (I'll be returning to this statement down the line.) Be warned, the novel reads a bit pretentious. At least, I thought so. Maybe I just wasn't getting all the references.... This being said, the voices behind the characters didn't feel completely fleshed out to me. This may have been just a side effect of writing in first person, but I felt very detached to most everyone else in the novel. After a while, it felt like Aciman was running out of things for Elio to say, so he just took to having him rehash and rephrase his dark lovesick woes. The whole thing with Elio wanting to be with Oliver, then wanting to get the heck out of Dodge after having sex with him frustrated me. He goes through the entire first quarter of the novel lusting after him, and it becomes explicitly apparent that, hey, the feeling's mutual. Elio's attraction seemingly erases itself, resumes intensely, and then it's on and off again for another few repetitive internal soliloquies. I don't know, maybe it's me. I mean, I kind of get it. You want what you can't have, and then when you finally get it, it's like the shine wears off. But something about it still irks me, going from one extreme to the other in such a short span of time. It was too black and white. It seemed unrealistic and, quite frankly, threw me off. The book hit a hard lull after the pivotal sex scene. Honestly, I could feel my interest waning throughout the novel, but after that event, I lost any and all motivation to finish the novel. It was then that I realized nothing interesting enough was happening in the background to convince me to continue reading. There was so much central focus on Elio's attraction to Oliver that it outshone anything else. Once that began to dilute itself, the only plot that mattered didn't anymore. Show's over. Everybody can go home now. Something else I'd like to address in regards to the "tasteful and refreshing writing". For the love of God and all that is holy, I would like to kindly implore Andre Aciman WHY on earth he thought it would be a good idea to utilize the word "apricock" unironically. AND ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION. Just. I'm laughing as I type this. I really shoudn't be. "It would have never occurred to him that in placing the apricot in my palm he was giving me his ass to hold or that, in biting the fruit, I was also biting into the part of that part of his body that must have been fairer than the rest because it never apricated--and near it, if I dared to bite that far, his apricock." Sounds like some Fifty Shades shenanigans 'boutta kick up down the road, and I wasn't completely wrong. I'll be nice. I'm not going to bash the infamous "jacking off into a stonefruit then eating it" incident. Yes, it's an incident because I was shook. You'll never hear me use that word in any other context. I'm not a prude. I get why it's substantial. It was there to make a statement. My beef lies with apricock, apricated, and every other variant that I can't be bothered to recall. That quote was so jarring to me for some reason, like it didn't fit in with the rest of the writing. Is it just me? Yes. Oh, well. Did I like the novel? I don't hate it, though I didn't find it interesting. Would I recommend? Not really. Apricock kind of did it in for me. Though I will say go for it if you're curious like I was. Maybe I'm just a one-off.

Ich habe gerade den Roman zu lesen beendet und ich weiß gar nicht, wohin mit mir. Das sitzt richtig tief. Natürlich bin ich über den Film zu dem Buch gekommen, habe das Buch zuerst begonnen, zwischendurch den Film in einer Vorpremiere OmU sehen können und es jetzt, wie gesagt, beendet. Wie eine Rezensentin vor mir musste ich zwischendurch das Buch beiseitelegen, weil ich dann doch überwältigt wurde. Ich finde es auch nicht leicht zu lesen. Für mich persönlich wäre das keine Sommerlektüre für den Strand. Dazu ist es neben der ganzen Poesie auch einfach zu traurig und komplex. Und das nochmal eine Stufe intensiver als im Film, der ja erst gegen Ende so richtig zubeißt. Der Roman ist eine Introspektive und eine Erinnerung zwanzig Jahre zurück. "It is the first thing I remember about him, and I can hear it still today. Later! I shut my eyes, say the word, and I'm back in Italy, so many years ago, walking down the tree-lined driveway, watching him step out of the cab, billowy blue shirt, wide-open collar, sunglasses, straw hat, skin everywhere. Suddenly he's shaking my hand, handing me his backpack, removing his suitcase from the trunk of the cab, asking if my father is home." Den ganzen Roman bestimmt von Anfang an ein melancholisch-sehnsüchtiger Grundton, der sich bis zum Ende hält und sich eher noch steigert. Ein Sehnen, das nie zu Ende geht. Das ganze Leben lang. Letztlich geht es hier um die Wirkung der Zeit auf die Menschen und ihre Gefühle und darum, dass ein Paradies nur in der Erinnerung aufrechterhalten werden kann. Darum, wie immer wieder Teile der Persönlichkeit herausgerissen und immer neue Schichten darübergelegt wurden, wie bei einer sehr alten Kirche. Darum wie man sich dabei oberflächlich verändert oder die äußeren Bedingungen, aber vielleicht tief unter den neuen Schichten noch einen Rest Ihrer Liebe von damals entdeckt werden kann. Etwas, was sie geprägt hat, auf der sie sich alles gründet. Time makes us sentimental. Perhaps, in the end, it is because of time that we suffer. Das Buch ist in vier Kapitel eingeteilt und die Geschichte der beiden Männer wird aus subjektiver Sicht Elios erzählt im Rückblick 20 Jahre später. Im ersten trifft Elio (17) auf Oliver (24), den amerikanischen Doktoranden, der über sechs Wochen in Ihrem Haus in Italien verbringen soll, um dort zu arbeiten. Vom ersten Moment an richtet sich eine fast obsessive Aufmerksamkeit auf Oliver. Jeder Schritt, jede Aussage, jedes Verhalten Olivers wird analysiert und interpretiert, jede Stelle seines Körpers gescannt. Wir sind in Elios Kopf. Aber Oliver ist abweisend. Elio hasst ihn dafür aber im nächsten Moment verfällt er ihm wieder, sobald er von dem anderen etwas Aufmerksamkeit oder Zuspruch erfährt. Im zweiten und längsten Kapitel gesteht Elio nach ca. zwei Wochen der Qualen Oliver seine Empfindungen. Trotz Zögerns seitens Olivers beginnt eine erst sehr vorsichtige Annäherung, die noch über weitere zwei Wochen andauert bis auch bei Ihm alle Schranken fallen. Im dritten Kapitel verbringen beide gemeinsam Olivers letzte Tage in Rom, wo sie das erste mal außerhalb des paradiesischen elterlichen Hauses sind, fern von Elios Familie. Im letzten Kapitel beschreibt Elio Treffen der beiden 15 und 20 Jahre später und wie er versucht herauszufinden, was von Ihrer Liebe noch überlebt hat. Dieser Teil ist der melancholischste, dichteste und schönste und fehlt im Film fast vollständig. So viele der poetischen Sätze in diesem Kapitel könnte man einrahmen und an die Wand hängen. Die Sprache ist dicht, intensiv und sehr erotisch, dabei aber wunderschön und nie pornografisch.. Emotional aber nicht kitschig. Die Sätze sind teilweise sehr lang und verwunden: …It would finally dawn on us both that he was more me than I had ever been myself, because when he became me and I became him in bed so many years ago, he was and would forever remain, long after every forked road in life had done its work, my brother, my friend, my father, my son, my husband, my lover, myself. Dieser Satz beschreibt auch gefühlvoll die Essenz dieser Liebe, die vielleicht weit über eine Beziehung hinausgeht. Sie finden sich jeweils selbst durch den anderen. "Call me by Your name and I'll call You by mine". Alles was ein Mann für Elio sein kann, war vereinigt in Oliver. Allumfassend und total, bis hin zum Verschmelzen zu einem gemeinsamen Wesen. Hier werden Vorstellungen aus der Antike wieder erweckt. Von solchen wunderschönen sinnlichen Sätzen gibt es so viele in diesem Buch, hier noch ein Beispiel: From this moment on, I thought, from this moment on – I had , as I'd never before in my life, the distinct feeling of arriving somewhere very dear, of wanting it forever, of being me, me, me, me and no one else, just me, of finding in each shiver that ran down my arms something totally alien and yet by no means unfamiliar, as if all this had been part of me all my life and I'd misplaced it and he helped me find it. Der Autor arbeitet auch mit der Vorstellung von gespiegelten Liebhabern, die den jeweils anderen bei dem eigenen Namen nennen, Das Symbol Ihrer Verbundenheit und Einheit (und Gleichheit), wobei die Spiegelung auch ein eindeutig queeres Element der Geschichte bildet. Auch die beiden Namen sind bewusst gewählt: Wenn man das V und das R aus OLIVER entfernt, bleibt OLIE übrig, aus dem man ELIO bilden kann. Oliver ist in Elios Augen die vollkommenere und bessere Version von sich selbst. Er schaut zu ihm auf, vergöttert ihn, will zugleich bei ihm sein und er sein. Man kann das im wahren Leben bei den sogenannten „Boyfriend Twins“ beobachten. Auch der Austausch von Körperflüssigkeiten wird hier zu einem philosophischen Akt: I believe with every cell in my body that every cell in yours must not, must never, die, and if it does have to die, let it die inside my body. Wichtig ist hier auch, dass die Pfirsichszene, über die alle sprechen, die den Film gesehen haben, hier wirklich eine starke Symbolkraft hat und hier auf etwas andere Art stattfindet. Ein Grund mehr, das Buch zu lesen. Diese Liebesgeschichte ist sicherlich für alle verständlich und auch nachfühlbar, wenn man nicht gänzlich homophob ist (erste Liebe, Sehnsucht und Verlust und Schmerz). Ich finde, dass jeder sie lesen sollte. Und doch finde ich „universell“ („Coming - Of- Age- Liebesgeschichte“) etwas zu allgemein formuliert. Das wird immer gerne gesagt, um eine Geschichte aufwerten zu wollen und meint, damit ein größeres Publikum ansprechen zu können. Es ist aber auch eindeutig eine queere Geschichte und ersetzte man eine Figur durch eine Frau, würde alles gar keinen Sinn ergeben, z.B. die Spiegelung. Die Poesie dieser Geschichte wäre dahin. Verheimlichen müssen die Jungs Ihre Beziehung. Scham spielt eine Rolle, sowohl bei Elio nach dem ersten Sex mit Oliver als auch bei diesem wegen seiner Eltern, die ihn in eine Anstalt gesteckt hätten, hätten sie davon erfahren. Wenn beide sich küssen wollen, nur dann wenn keiner hinsieht. Ihre Liebe lebt gleichsam nur in einem Arkadien. Elio erzählt seinen Eltern einmal am Frühstückstisch, dass er beinahe mit einem Mädchen Sex gehabt hätte, hier spielt Scham keine Rolle. Ich finde es ganz außerordentlich, wie ein heterosexueller Autor mann-männliches Begehren, Phantasien und Sehnsüchte in derart intensiver und erotischer Weise in Worte gefasst hat, dass ich sämtliche Gefühlszustände durchlebt habe. We had found the stars, you and I. And this is given once only.

Love the movie, love the book. Especially that it gives more clarity about the ending

The book is good and nicely written and I'm halfway in after a day and a half so I might reread later. The cover I got was the man by the pool

Esse livro não é para todo mundo. Sei que nenhum é, que tem sempre alguém, seja honestamente ou por pura insegurança e necessidade de se sentir diferente e especial, que não gosta de algum livro. Mas o que quero dizer sempre que uso essa frase é que o livro não é do tipo que agrada fácil, que conquista a maioria das pessoas, que será entendido por todo mundo que ler. Estou impressionada com a fama que ele conquistou (mesmo que tenha sido por causa do filme) entre pessoas que parecem tão distantes do estilo dele. A primeira coisa que me fez perceber que este livro não é para todo mundo foi sua honestidade. Talvez honestidade seja uma palavra simples demais para o jeito que a história foi narrada sem medo, sem pudor, sem qualquer inibição. Do mesmo modo em que os dois personagens se entregam completamente um ao outro, a escrita é feita de intimidade e vulnerabilidade completas, de filosofia e poesia, e de detalhes reais e fantasiosos, idealizados, eróticos, românticos, dolorosos e vergonhosos. Ela abraça todas as emoções do Elio, das mais intensas e obsessivas às mais simples e impulsivas, sem medo de entregar demais. Foi extremamente corajoso do autor escrever esse livro como seu primeiro. E foi uma honra ler esse livro, fazer parte dessa intimidade que não era minha. Fiquei impressionada quando percebi a quantidade de emoções diferentes que eu tinha já sentido e reconheci no Elio, e mais ainda quando vi quantas sentia em poucas frases. Fiquei ansiosa, plena e feliz, ri às vezes, para frases abaixo perceber toda a tristeza da situação e logo em seguida ser consolada pela beleza desse amor existir. Foram tantas emoções mesmo, que terminei chorando meus olhos fora (choro super fácil com livros, mas esse consegue tirar lágrimas até de quem não chora), daquele tipo de choro que é mais emotivo do que racional. É até um pouco assustador ver meu próprio luto pelo final da história, ainda que ele me dê certo consolo. Não foi só nessa hora que chorei como se tivesse perdido algo valioso que nunca encontraria de novo. Minha parte favorita é a conversa do Elio com seu pai perto do final, e, ainda que o livro já não tivesse me dado nada para pensar ou para sentir antes, ele teria valido completamente a pena só por ela. É difícil dizer se recomendo o livro. Recomendo, é claro, mas tenho medo de fazê-lo cair em mãos de quem não o entenderá ou merecerá. O texto parece difícil de longe, com frases e parágrafos longos, mas que eu lia como se pensasse junto com Elio, quase freneticamente. As falas também são misturadas às vezes em narração, de vez em quando sem qualquer indicação, o que eu achei ótimo, na verdade, não cheguei a ficar confundida sobre quem falava. Nunca poderia imaginar que isso me agradaria, principalmente porque não é do tipo de coisa que agrada a maioria das pessoas. Como eu falei, um livro que fica com você, que te faz repensar muita coisa, invejar dor e se entregar à história. Não é para todo mundo.

J'ai entendu parler de ce livre comme beaucoup au moment de la sortie du magnifique film de Luca Gadaguino . On faisait tout un foin sur la performance du jeune prodige déjà vu dans "Interstellar" et en lice pour l'Oscar du Meilleur Acteur à seulement 20 ans... Mais moi, c'est surtout le nom du scénariste qui a attiré mon attention: James Ivory... l'incarnation de ce qui se fait de beau et d'élégant dans le cinéma britannique (Les Vestiges du Jour, Howards End...). Après avoir vu le film (que j'ai particulièrement aimé, d'ailleurs) , je me suis jetée sur le livre. J'aurais sans doute dû laisser passer quelques mois car au tout début, j'ai retrouvé quasiment phrase pour phrase les dialogues du film. Du coup, j'ai eu une impression de déjà-vu. Mais cela ne m'a pas empêché d'en savourer la poésie à chaque page. L'écriture est à la fois simple et élégante. Il nous donne une impression de pudeur en même temps qu'il nous bouscule... comme l'est Elio, le personnage de 17 ans. Dans le roman, la différence d'âge (qui m'a quelque peu mise mal à l'aise au début dans le film entre Thimotée Chalamet et Armie Hammer) ne se ressent pas autant. Les sens sont en éveil dans cette Italie rêvée du début des années 80 et on n'est focalisé -tout comme Elio qui connait son premier amour - que sur cet amour sensuel naissant. L'auteur ne nous replace pas durement dans un contexte de début de l'épidémie de SIDA ce qui nous conforte dans cette douceur / violence sentimentale mais éloignée des préoccupations extérieures. Mais ce que j'ai adoré dans ce roman c'est - étonnamment - la partie non exploitée par le film: l'après. Alors que je me disais que c'était une bien jolie histoire d'amour, j'ai été cueillie par l’émotion qui ressort de sa suite. Je ne veux pas gâcher le plaisir du lecteur (j'en ai déjà trop dit!) mais Andre Aciman sait faire vibrer la corde que vous sentiez apaisée. J'ai versé ma larme, j'avoue. Et la tirade du père à son jeune fils (que vous trouvez également dans le film et qui l'a incroyablement magnifié) sur l'amour, le regard des autres, la douleur, le chérissement de cette douleur pour ressentir quelque chose et se sentir vivant, le vieillissement du corps... l'urgence de profiter!) est à faire lire à tous les parents à qui il manque les mots pour parler à leur adolescent - garçon comme fille. A lire en anglais bien sûr si vous avez la chance de maîtriser cette langue mais même sans être bilingue (juste "je me débrouille"), l'effort vaut le coup.