I hate the holidays. I hate December. I hate the ''holiday cheer''. You're gonna hear me repeat this several times this month (and every following December while this blog lasts) no doubt. But I have a question for all y'all actually excited each year when December comes around. Does it even feel like the holidays this year? Do you feel any joy or cheer or happiness? Honest question, because minus the cold and christmas trees everywhere, as far as I'm concerned it could still be March. Like I don't even know. Another week of lockdown, lost count which by now has passed and another one upon us. It's not even funny no more. I mean it never was funny, but you know what I mean. Running out of books, drawings, movies and ways to rearrange my closet (and my life) at this point. Anyone else going crazy? I would just about commit murder for a normal cup of coffee or a glass of cold beer in my fave bar and a shopping spree where you get to try on clothes and be silly with your best friends (though, what are those?). Lets not even get into events. I have never in my life went this long without concerts. Ever. It's pure torture. I can't even look at live videos of my fave bands no more because I feel like I'll start ripping my hair out, and sobbing, and screaming, and fainting, maybe not in this order.
In another attempt to distract myself I went into the huge back log of the books I have to read. So so SO many of them. Decided to start with this one. ''Call me by your name''. So turns out I'm not exactly running out of books, I just have a hard time comitting to new stories and rather re - read old ones. Comfort characters and all that...
The book actually came out in 2007 but in this backwards country it only surfaced now when a part two was written last year and a movie was made. Story is a gay romance and jesus christ thank god because I am so sick of sappy straight people. Really. The book centers on a blossoming romantic relationship between a 17 year old American Italian Elio and a visiting 24 year old American scholar Oliver, sometime in the 1980's Italy. As if the gay love isn't what's perfect, you got the 80's and you got Italy. I love Italy. Fucking hell I MISS Italy. I am telling you I am in my own personal hell. No quick trips and getaways, no Milano. No seaside. At this point I'm wondering what would speed this dying bit by bit a little, because. Torture. And I'm off topic. Again. So the novel chronicles a summer romance. Ever had one of those? No regrets, no strings attached. I wish. I doubt it's possible. People always catch feelings somehow and someone ends up hurt. Yes, personal experience talking. Or better personal regrets talking.
You know what's funny? Elio's mother calls Oliver, the perfect, tan, blonde American ''che muvi star''. I have a blonde friend I jokingly call ''movie star'' as well. He reminds me of a young Brad Pitt, with the long blond hair and pretty crystal blue eyes. Sigh. Brad is like the embodiment of a movie star to me. If you say actor I'll just instantly think of him, well him and Armie Hammer, that gorgeous perfect Hollywood good looks. And Johnny Depp but that's besides the point. If I think of Johnny these days I'll just get angry and start ranting about the huge injustice he's suffering.
So the book is a story about Oliver and Elio. Elio's parents take a student as a house guest each summer for about six weeks, to help his father with his academic paperwork and revising a book manuscript, which Elio is not too fond of because it only means he has to give up his bedroom for the time being. Now when Oliver shows up as their summer guest he is a stark contrast to Elio who is a complete introvert. Just like me. But he's also smart, nervous, naiive and bold. And Oliver, carfree and fun. Lives life loud and wild and free. I could use a better half like that to balance me out. Must be nice being like that instead of driving yourself crazy over every little thing. I envy those people really. I also envy Elio's parents for that summer cliffside Italian villa. Italy. Villa. Ocean. I'd give anything for that. Cute story movie version of the villa went for sale some time back for about one million euros. Or maybe some more, not sure. But honey, I'd sell my whole family for that house. Just sayin.
The book is hot. Don't get me wrong. Hot. A coming out story. A story of desire, a love letter. It's a story about love obviously but also adolescent sexual awakening. Things start slow, the boys develop an unlikely friendship, grow apart then come back together, which soon develops into a love affair. I think the love affair just sounds better and more intense and more passionate because of the Italian backdrop. Trust me everything is just better in Italy. The sun. The ocean. The booze (nobody does Aperol like Italians), the food, god the food. And just Italy. The charming, hot, beautiful Italy, with it's nice people, with it's cusine, with it's art history and culture, with it's gorgeous landscapes. God I love it. I love everything about it. There aint no place on this planet like Italy.
As the summer goes on the relationship between Elio and Oliver intensifies. I mean I guess I knew it's a summer romance when I started reading, and I guess I knew it can't possibly end up happily as in the boys riding into the sunset together. Wouldn't that be nice? I guess despite saying earlier I'm fed up with straight sappy love stories I'm still a sucker for happy endings. This year has been a different kind of hell and I could use some sugar in a book world one can so easily get lost in. What I'd say is that it's a bit of a heartbreaker. Well…not exactly an axe to the heart because let's be serious, we all had our hearts broken at some point or another, so this is more of a nail to the heart, or a ship spike. You know those long ancient thick iron spikes? Yeah those. So I guess no more damage can be done. Not really anyways.
I think this book is a testament to what literature at it's finest can do to a reader. The sheer emotional power of the words you're reading. Of the story you're following. There's also relatability with Elio who's telling the story in first person. His thoughts, his fantasies, his worries, doubts, fears. I can't help but think if I were to write such a book and talk about my fantasies, fears and thoughts. Jesus that shit would be illegal in every country and state. Elio imagines before the romance what he would possibly say to Oliver, how he may react, a dozen and one scenario. Yeah that I can relate to, it's a sure fact that things that have little chance of even happening will be running around my mind driving me all kinds of crazy for no reason but the fact that I'm an anxious idiot, who doesn't know how to shut her own mind off.
I read a comment in which someone said that this book might resound better with people who understand suffering. People who experienced more in life. More as in not necessarily good. And I have to say I agree. I can't imagine the insights and the brilliance of this book working wonders on people that just don't get it. I mean that could be said for any book but in this particular story I meant people that just don't get IT. People who never experienced that kinda passion, pull towards something, people who never risked everything and just lay down their cards, bared their souls, said this is who I am, take it or leave it, I'm yours. Am I making sense anymore? I don't know maybe the intense emotions, the intense ending, is starting to mess with me. Maybe I'm just dying to feel that, or just anything again.
''We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything. What a waste.''
Brilliant isn't it? And it hits just right. There's a lot of mixed opinions on the book. On the sexual contents, on some questionable explorations of one's body. People saying that if you find their relationship one of love, you've never loved before and if you think that this is a book about loss, you've never lost anything that truly matters to you. I can say I did both and I can still argue these points. Those feelings between them, the passion, exploration with someone you trust, that's what love should be about isn't it? And the loss…it's not just a summer romance that's lost after he leaves, it's the whole lot of ''what if's''. Like, but what if he'd stay. There were also issues with intimacy parts in the book. Them not knowing eachother too well. But what's the problem there? I have a feeling that's coming from people who never experienced just that. Intimacy and passion with a stranger. Like it can't be done. Come on, I think as a society we've progressed enough not to throw dirty glances at one night stands? Wrap it before you tap it and have fun kids kinda thing no? And also intimacy...it's not about sex you know, being with someone, trusting them your thoughts, fears, feelings, dreams, that's real intimacy. Not everything revolves about wham bam thank you ma'am ya know...
Might just be that those judging just didn't get IT. The story, the point, the prose. Gotta say I cried all the way trough those final pages not going to lie, possibly also because they say goodbye in Rome and I'm just really missing Italy so much Yea we're there again. And Rome...something so tragically perfect and heartbreaking about Rome. A city that beautiful, you just can't imagine having your heart broken there, but in a city so ancient, just think, how many hearts have been broken there through history. The longing, the obsession, the passion, the nostalgia, the lyrical way the story flows…I loved everything about this book, despite the critics, despite the ''offensive parts'', despite the things people don't like, or maybe just because of them. It's a sure fact that if general population doesn't like something I'll most likely love it.
In the end of the day we're all Elio aren't we?
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