Gianfranco Calligarich’s novel Last Summer in the City is a curiosity that may inspire or may discourage would-be authors; he wrote the work in the early 70s, his first novel, and sent to all of the publishers in Italy and was roundly rejected but one prominent reader gave it an extra push and it was thus published, 1973, to poor reviews and obscurity; now, for some reason, rediscovered in Italy and republished and it’s his first novel - out of many - to be translated into English. Is it any good? Yes, in many ways - especially for its capturing the mood of a young man just breaking from his home and family and trying to establish himself in Rome but waylaid by serious drinking, profligate spending, and, most important, by a tempestuous relationship w/ a beautiful and deeply troubled young woman. Some of passages are beautiful, especially the descriptions of Rome and environs in various lights - not surprising in that GC or at least GC’s narrator, Leo, is enamored of Proust. What’s troubling about this work, however, is the complete indifference of the characters and their fates, the complete waste of time and money, the contempt toward any serious kind of work or creative endeavors, the sense that the world owes him (and her) a living - culminating in a tremendously indulgent shopping spree and a surprising, at least to me, conclusion. It’s by no means a great novel, but it’s short and perhaps a harbinger for better works from this author when more established in his career and in his life.
Sunday, October 3, 2021
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