What do you think?
Rate this book
Amore: An American Father's Roman Holiday – A Sociologist's Cross-Cultural Love Story and Memoir of Family in Italy
Part memoir, part cultural exploration, Amore follows an American father as he and his teenage daughters journey into the heart of Rome, into the way Romans love and what they have to teach about its erosion in America
As his twin daughters approached adolescence, sociologist Roger Friedland was worried. The thing that most bothered him was not the erotic heat of its youth culture, but the lovelessness of its sex.
Offered the chance to live and teach in Rome, Roger and his wife, Debra, seized the opportunity to take their family to live in a city where love is alive, family bonds hold, divorce and rape are rare, and “ciao, bella” is a constant refrain.
In Amore, Friedland shares the stories of his family’s enchanted and unnerving passage into the heart of Rome and considers its lessons for America where love is at risk.
Amore is a love story, a family’s voyage between two states of feeling.
As his twin daughters approached adolescence, sociologist Roger Friedland was worried. The thing that most bothered him was not the erotic heat of its youth culture, but the lovelessness of its sex.
Offered the chance to live and teach in Rome, Roger and his wife, Debra, seized the opportunity to take their family to live in a city where love is alive, family bonds hold, divorce and rape are rare, and “ciao, bella” is a constant refrain.
In Amore, Friedland shares the stories of his family’s enchanted and unnerving passage into the heart of Rome and considers its lessons for America where love is at risk.
Amore is a love story, a family’s voyage between two states of feeling.
432 pages, Paperback
First published November 4, 2014
4 people are currently reading
407 people want to read
About the author
Roger Friedland
13 books8 followersRoger Friedland is a cultural and religious sociologist who writes on love, sex and God, as well as the intersections of religion and politics around the world. Friedland works on institutional logics, on the ways in which ordinary domains of human activity depend on belief in goods which are beyond sense and reason. He is working with John Mohr and Henk Roose on the logics of love among American university students and with Janet Afary on the relationship of religion, gender and intimate life in seven Muslim-majority countries Friedland teaches in the departments of Religious Studies and Sociology at University of California, Santa Barbara. He is currently visiting professor at NYU Media, Culture and Communication.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
November 8, 2021
3.5 stars, rounded up
I was a bit resistant to this text at first, and my reservations continued until almost 300 pages in. In the opening pages, the author comments that he doesn't think Moulin Rouge is an appropriate movie to watch in-flight and he was glad his daughters weren't here next to him during the viewing. "Nine years old is too young to be learning that strippers are people, too." Huh. I disagree, and this is only the first example of many opinions this book offered that I took exception to, underscoring to me the significance of a man having written this book.
For what it's worth, my daughter knows that her body is her body. Nicole Kidman's body is hers, too. Isn't it simple? Strippers are beautiful and people give them money for the privilege of looking and for the fantasy. I'm not afraid to explain this to my daughter at 5 years old. Why not nine? Moulin Rouge is dope; musicals are full of edgy topics. Maybe it's the American in me, but I don't see a problem.
It wasn't until Chapter 18 on p. 295, "Hey God, is that you in my underpants?" (which I understand is also a paper the author of this book co-published with another University of California Santa Barbara professor and doctor of sociology) that the book really starts to live up to its hype. Santa Barbara, California, it may be said, does not represent America. I've never lived on a college campus, but I for one couldn't relate to almost any of the sex-as-currency/love-is-trite trends voiced by his American students.
"What if it's the human capacity, and need for, love that makes God possible? It requires an ability to offer ourselves to another without any assurance or guarantees. Love is beyond reason and calculation; it depends on faith. It is a madness, a form of grace." The book spends too much time on individual Romans the author met during his stay, on the author's idealization of Rome and Romans, and not enough on the underpinnings of philosophy that give the book its meat and purpose. The anecdotes were sweet, really, but this could have been two books: one a memoir about raising preteen girls and experiencing Rome, and the other a sociological nonfiction examining the trends.
"Love is a challenging, even unlikely, life course, but nonetheless an essential driver of all that is great in history. The world's great heroes have been lovers, although not always faithful ones--Moses, David, Odysseus, Alexander the Great, Augustus, Muhammad, Luther, Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Kennedy, right down to Barack Obama, who has reasserted the place of love in the public sphere." An edgy and fascinating assertion. Being "a lover" certainly gives leaders complexity and charisma. I'd read a book all about this assertion, but I'd also be interested in a refutation.
"What will love look like after patriarchy? Can feminism incorporate romance? What kind of love will exist in a world where work and family, aggression and tenderness, stoicism and vulnerability, are no longer assigned to men and women? My tale of two lands ends with questions, not answers." Here's the real conversation starter. Unfortunately, it's the book's closer. I am torn: I have a residual feeling along the lines of "OK BOOMER" and also I think the author is sincere and intelligent and has some interesting ideas. I think it would be fun to have taken his course on God and sexuality and lit up the class with my challenges and dissents :) :) :)
I was a bit resistant to this text at first, and my reservations continued until almost 300 pages in. In the opening pages, the author comments that he doesn't think Moulin Rouge is an appropriate movie to watch in-flight and he was glad his daughters weren't here next to him during the viewing. "Nine years old is too young to be learning that strippers are people, too." Huh. I disagree, and this is only the first example of many opinions this book offered that I took exception to, underscoring to me the significance of a man having written this book.
For what it's worth, my daughter knows that her body is her body. Nicole Kidman's body is hers, too. Isn't it simple? Strippers are beautiful and people give them money for the privilege of looking and for the fantasy. I'm not afraid to explain this to my daughter at 5 years old. Why not nine? Moulin Rouge is dope; musicals are full of edgy topics. Maybe it's the American in me, but I don't see a problem.
It wasn't until Chapter 18 on p. 295, "Hey God, is that you in my underpants?" (which I understand is also a paper the author of this book co-published with another University of California Santa Barbara professor and doctor of sociology) that the book really starts to live up to its hype. Santa Barbara, California, it may be said, does not represent America. I've never lived on a college campus, but I for one couldn't relate to almost any of the sex-as-currency/love-is-trite trends voiced by his American students.
"What if it's the human capacity, and need for, love that makes God possible? It requires an ability to offer ourselves to another without any assurance or guarantees. Love is beyond reason and calculation; it depends on faith. It is a madness, a form of grace." The book spends too much time on individual Romans the author met during his stay, on the author's idealization of Rome and Romans, and not enough on the underpinnings of philosophy that give the book its meat and purpose. The anecdotes were sweet, really, but this could have been two books: one a memoir about raising preteen girls and experiencing Rome, and the other a sociological nonfiction examining the trends.
"Love is a challenging, even unlikely, life course, but nonetheless an essential driver of all that is great in history. The world's great heroes have been lovers, although not always faithful ones--Moses, David, Odysseus, Alexander the Great, Augustus, Muhammad, Luther, Washington, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Kennedy, right down to Barack Obama, who has reasserted the place of love in the public sphere." An edgy and fascinating assertion. Being "a lover" certainly gives leaders complexity and charisma. I'd read a book all about this assertion, but I'd also be interested in a refutation.
"What will love look like after patriarchy? Can feminism incorporate romance? What kind of love will exist in a world where work and family, aggression and tenderness, stoicism and vulnerability, are no longer assigned to men and women? My tale of two lands ends with questions, not answers." Here's the real conversation starter. Unfortunately, it's the book's closer. I am torn: I have a residual feeling along the lines of "OK BOOMER" and also I think the author is sincere and intelligent and has some interesting ideas. I think it would be fun to have taken his course on God and sexuality and lit up the class with my challenges and dissents :) :) :)
May 2, 2015
Friedland takes a two year contract to teach a class titled "Sex and God," in Rome, partly because he loves the city, but also because he wants to shield his then coming of age daughters, just entering middle school, from the pressure to have sex at a too-young age. The story starts with an examination of the Roman culture, especially with respect to the differences in the way Italians view sex, love, mothers, women, and God. Then, he harkens back to the U.S. and goes into great detail about the teenaged culture of "hooking up," that young people in our country have casual sex, shockingly frequently, without thinking, love or intimacy. He contrasts the two culture's beliefs and actions on a whole range of subjects: communication between the sexes, extra-marital sex, divorce, how religion and belief in God plays into marriage and its longevity. I really liked the book but sometimes the author goes into too much depth on a topic. As an academic, he seems to be trying to make this a scholarly paper with 200 plus footnotes, yet much of what is written is opinion.
February 2, 2015
This book is not a memoir (maybe a touch of memoir here and there) but it was a thoughtful, smart reflection on American and Roman society in regards to love, sex and God.
May 16, 2022
A book about that’s more about genitalia and less about Rome, by a guy that can’t think of much more than genitalia. Thinly disguised intellectual fakery.
February 20, 2015
Some men have affairs with women, Friedland says on the first page. I fell in love with a city.
And that's certainly the sense I got from the book -- that it is a love letter to Rome disguised as a sociological examination of the differences between Rome/Italy and the U.S...in turn disguised as a memoir.
Friedland, who had travelled extensively and lived in cities across the globe, leapt at the chance to spend two years in Italy with his wife and teenage daughters. He'd lived in Rome before, spoke Italian, and had only positive memories of the city; as both a sociologist and a parent, he felt that Rome's norms were healthier than those he saw in the U.S. (He cites Italy-wide statistics but mostly talks about Rome; when talking about the U.S., he usually speaks generally but often cites cities such as L.A. for comparison.) Although it might be a stretch to say that he explicitly pits one place against the other, it is very clear that he thinks that Rome wins on almost every count. Take his description of women in Rome: Roman women don't cover or bind themselves; they amplify their erotic allure, showing off their breasts, their bottoms, their legs. Women still dress and walk to turn a male eye (xii). Then take his description of girls in L.A.: At my niece's high school graduation in Los Angeles, I witnessed a long parade of low-cut blouses, short side-slit skirts, heavy makeup, pumped-up heels, and teased-up hair. Things are pretty bad, I told my eighty-something mother, when you can't tell the difference between the daughters of the literate bourgeoisie and the hookers who work the corners nearby (xvii).
It's interesting. Wildly subjective, despite all the research and statistics he cites. When it comes down to it, he tells very little of his family's time in Rome, focusing the memoir angle more on his own youth and delving far more deeply into his perspective of Rome.
It's also hard to take in places. Friedland recalls growing up in a time when there were girls you dated seriously (the 'good' girls) and girls you dated casually and hooked up with (the 'bad' girls) -- She was wonderful, he says of one of the latter, but she was not the kind of girl I wanted a long-term relationship with (144). Decades later, he is still teaching his own daughters that there are good girls and bad girls and don't worry, the good girls always win; decades later, he is still romanticising the role of woman as wife and mother. Some of his interpretations seem suspect (although I am not a sociologist, or an academic, and have not read his sources) -- he cites, without apparent reservation, a very likely flawed* statistic about gay men in the 70s (158); he seems to think that Italy has one over the U.S. because 70% of Italian rape survivors were assaulted by a partner (232), ignoring the fact that statistics are comparable in the U.S. (U.S. statistics are for known assailants rather than intimate partners -- but either way, we're talking a majority of non-strangers...and can we talk about the implication that it's somehow not as 'bad' to be assaulted by a partner?).
I don't know. He's a good writer, no question. It's possible that I am coming down harder on this book than I might otherwise because the U.S. culture he describes is so alien to the one I experienced. I have not been to Rome; I cannot compare. But if you were reading this as an introduction to the U.S., I think you'd come away with the impression that the youth of the U.S. are going at it like bunnies from a very young age, that violence is everywhere, that romance is completely and utterly dead. (You also might think that Rome was a modern-day Eden, at least for an adult man.) And I cannot take seriously any book that that paints Edward Cullen in a positive (sparkly?) light (213).
But what makes me think most is the follow-up with his daughters at the end. Friedland is almost apologetic about it, saying that It is awkward, even painful, to reveal all this at the end of my paean to Rome, to mar the pretty picture (361). But I wonder what the book would have looked like if he hadn't felt the need to paint such a pretty picture in the first place, if he didn't feel the need to explain things away with a 'well, here, boys will be boys' attitude. He challenges the reader with new information and new things to process; I'm not so sure he wants to challenge his own view of Rome.
*Ideally I'd find a more academic source about this, but at the moment I'm content with just raising a skeptical eyebrow.
I received a free copy of this book via a Goodreads giveaway.
And that's certainly the sense I got from the book -- that it is a love letter to Rome disguised as a sociological examination of the differences between Rome/Italy and the U.S...in turn disguised as a memoir.
Friedland, who had travelled extensively and lived in cities across the globe, leapt at the chance to spend two years in Italy with his wife and teenage daughters. He'd lived in Rome before, spoke Italian, and had only positive memories of the city; as both a sociologist and a parent, he felt that Rome's norms were healthier than those he saw in the U.S. (He cites Italy-wide statistics but mostly talks about Rome; when talking about the U.S., he usually speaks generally but often cites cities such as L.A. for comparison.) Although it might be a stretch to say that he explicitly pits one place against the other, it is very clear that he thinks that Rome wins on almost every count. Take his description of women in Rome: Roman women don't cover or bind themselves; they amplify their erotic allure, showing off their breasts, their bottoms, their legs. Women still dress and walk to turn a male eye (xii). Then take his description of girls in L.A.: At my niece's high school graduation in Los Angeles, I witnessed a long parade of low-cut blouses, short side-slit skirts, heavy makeup, pumped-up heels, and teased-up hair. Things are pretty bad, I told my eighty-something mother, when you can't tell the difference between the daughters of the literate bourgeoisie and the hookers who work the corners nearby (xvii).
It's interesting. Wildly subjective, despite all the research and statistics he cites. When it comes down to it, he tells very little of his family's time in Rome, focusing the memoir angle more on his own youth and delving far more deeply into his perspective of Rome.
It's also hard to take in places. Friedland recalls growing up in a time when there were girls you dated seriously (the 'good' girls) and girls you dated casually and hooked up with (the 'bad' girls) -- She was wonderful, he says of one of the latter, but she was not the kind of girl I wanted a long-term relationship with (144). Decades later, he is still teaching his own daughters that there are good girls and bad girls and don't worry, the good girls always win; decades later, he is still romanticising the role of woman as wife and mother. Some of his interpretations seem suspect (although I am not a sociologist, or an academic, and have not read his sources) -- he cites, without apparent reservation, a very likely flawed* statistic about gay men in the 70s (158); he seems to think that Italy has one over the U.S. because 70% of Italian rape survivors were assaulted by a partner (232), ignoring the fact that statistics are comparable in the U.S. (U.S. statistics are for known assailants rather than intimate partners -- but either way, we're talking a majority of non-strangers...and can we talk about the implication that it's somehow not as 'bad' to be assaulted by a partner?).
I don't know. He's a good writer, no question. It's possible that I am coming down harder on this book than I might otherwise because the U.S. culture he describes is so alien to the one I experienced. I have not been to Rome; I cannot compare. But if you were reading this as an introduction to the U.S., I think you'd come away with the impression that the youth of the U.S. are going at it like bunnies from a very young age, that violence is everywhere, that romance is completely and utterly dead. (You also might think that Rome was a modern-day Eden, at least for an adult man.) And I cannot take seriously any book that that paints Edward Cullen in a positive (sparkly?) light (213).
But what makes me think most is the follow-up with his daughters at the end. Friedland is almost apologetic about it, saying that It is awkward, even painful, to reveal all this at the end of my paean to Rome, to mar the pretty picture (361). But I wonder what the book would have looked like if he hadn't felt the need to paint such a pretty picture in the first place, if he didn't feel the need to explain things away with a 'well, here, boys will be boys' attitude. He challenges the reader with new information and new things to process; I'm not so sure he wants to challenge his own view of Rome.
*Ideally I'd find a more academic source about this, but at the moment I'm content with just raising a skeptical eyebrow.
I received a free copy of this book via a Goodreads giveaway.
August 23, 2014
Amore is about a family who moved from California to Rome for two years as the two daughters transitioned to their teen years. Roger Friedland, the father, is a professor of sex and religion at UC Santa Barbara, a school which has a bit of a party reputation. He'd learned enough about the students' sex lives to be alarmed at the idea of his daughters becoming women in a hook-up atmosphere where even middle school kids are engaging in presidential sex acts. Having lived in Rome several times over the years, the Friedlands decide that Italy will be a healthier environment to learn about sex and love.
Friedland is a romantic and tends to see what he wants to see. Yes, the statistics show that rape is rare in Italy (throughout the book, Friedland uses "Rome" and "Italy" almost interchangeably - perhaps Rome really is representative of Italy as a whole) and that divorce is also rare. He acknowledges that couples in Rome who might divorce in America stay married in Italy and have affairs. He seems to think that's good for the children and maybe it is, but there are no statistics for that. He also admits that what we would consider sexual harrassment in America (unwanted touching, staring, crude comments) is commonplace in Italy, but that the women there seem to handle it with aplomb. Perhaps most annoyingly, he tries to blame feminism for the broken families in America. By going out to earn livings, women have destroyed the family unit and emasculated men. This seems willfully blind to the fact that it has been some decades now since a single income has been enough for most families to live comfortably.
He talks about the Catholic church and how it influences the Italians, about the financial slump that keeps Italian children from finding jobs and moving out of their parents' homes. He discusses his own parents and his and his wife's struggle to become parents. And from time to time he even talks about the daughters, ending with what seems almost an afterthought, that for one of them, it was not a romantic interlude at all or as the subtitle suggests, a Roman holiday. Quite the opposite.
Friedland is a romantic and tends to see what he wants to see. Yes, the statistics show that rape is rare in Italy (throughout the book, Friedland uses "Rome" and "Italy" almost interchangeably - perhaps Rome really is representative of Italy as a whole) and that divorce is also rare. He acknowledges that couples in Rome who might divorce in America stay married in Italy and have affairs. He seems to think that's good for the children and maybe it is, but there are no statistics for that. He also admits that what we would consider sexual harrassment in America (unwanted touching, staring, crude comments) is commonplace in Italy, but that the women there seem to handle it with aplomb. Perhaps most annoyingly, he tries to blame feminism for the broken families in America. By going out to earn livings, women have destroyed the family unit and emasculated men. This seems willfully blind to the fact that it has been some decades now since a single income has been enough for most families to live comfortably.
He talks about the Catholic church and how it influences the Italians, about the financial slump that keeps Italian children from finding jobs and moving out of their parents' homes. He discusses his own parents and his and his wife's struggle to become parents. And from time to time he even talks about the daughters, ending with what seems almost an afterthought, that for one of them, it was not a romantic interlude at all or as the subtitle suggests, a Roman holiday. Quite the opposite.
December 2, 2014
A sweet and detailed description of Rome's social culture, a place where beauty is located in "a person's choice of words and humor, their touch and sensibilities, the way they spice their pasta"...and where there is none of the moral clucking that is the constant currency of American suburbs. Human errors are not bases for final judgment. Romans don't even care what the pope does in his personal chambers.
Divorce is low, infidelity high; there is a mistrust of strangers and a lack of following rules. Crosswalks are meaningless - police cars run through them even when pedestrians are crossing.
I enjoyed this memoir/travel/sociological study kind of book.
Divorce is low, infidelity high; there is a mistrust of strangers and a lack of following rules. Crosswalks are meaningless - police cars run through them even when pedestrians are crossing.
I enjoyed this memoir/travel/sociological study kind of book.
January 29, 2015
I received an advance unproofed copy of this book through Goodreads First Reads, and I will give my honest opinion below as I read through it.
Just started this morning, and I'm loving it already. The author is clearly in love with Rome and knows it so very well, he has a wonderful, rich, easy-to-read writing style, and he makes the subject so real and interesting. I want to visit Rome tomorrow. Heck, I think I'm ready to move there!
Can't wait to see what's ahead. I will update this review as I progress.
Just started this morning, and I'm loving it already. The author is clearly in love with Rome and knows it so very well, he has a wonderful, rich, easy-to-read writing style, and he makes the subject so real and interesting. I want to visit Rome tomorrow. Heck, I think I'm ready to move there!
Can't wait to see what's ahead. I will update this review as I progress.
September 23, 2014
I got this as a review copy -- it's marketed as a dad and daughters and Italy vs America book but really it's more of a personal memoir sprinkled with sociological ruminations. The latter are a bit naive, but the former are really lovely -- Friedland's a hopeless romantic through and through. A nice, if not entirely necessary, read.
April 5, 2017
Love and sex in two parts
I appreciated this book's depth into attitudes on love and sex on different continents. Love is necessary before all else.
I appreciated this book's depth into attitudes on love and sex on different continents. Love is necessary before all else.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews