Il periodo del silenzio

by Francesca Manfredi

Cristina Martino ha ventotto anni, è laureata in Archeologia e lavora, precaria, in una biblioteca di dipartimento all’università di Torino. Ha una vita piuttosto monotona, una famiglia ordinaria, nessun trauma. Ha avuto qualche relazione di breve durata – una, in particolare, che le è rimasta dentro con una forma di dolenza irrisolta – ha un flirt con Daniele, conosciuto da poco, e un’amica, Silvia, che sembra il suo opposto; ogni cosa in lei tende all’evasione dalla norma, al rumore, all’eccesso di vita. Una sera, presa da un impulso, Cristina decide di eliminare i suoi profili social. Un gesto senza motivazione apparente, non insolito, di certo non eppure, questa sarà la prima tappa del suo percorso verso il silenzio, perché, gradualmente, Cristina smette di comunicare. Pur continuando la sua vita quotidiana, smette di parlare alle persone in biblioteca, a sua sorella, ai suoi genitori, smette di parlare a Silvia, persino a Daniele. Mantiene dapprima un contatto minimo, attraverso biglietti e messaggi essenziali e, infine, elimina anche quello. Cristina scivola sempre più in una forma di rarefazione, di invisibilità fisica, in cui il silenzio diventa la scelta di una sparizione dal mondo. Quando un articolo sulla sua storia diventa virale, in tanti cominciano a emularla, attribuendo al suo silenzio significati universali e necessari, mentre nessuno sembra più sapere dove Cristina si trovi davvero, e se tornerà. Con una scrittura nitida e puntuale, che segue come una pelle l’evoluzione di Cristina e il suo rapporto con il silenzio, Francesca Manfredi scrive un romanzo teso e potente, che riflette sulla solitudine oppressa dal caos, sul vuoto comunicativo dei nostri rapporti, sulla forza che ancora può avere la parola, quando rinasce vergine e vera.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Italy, Contemporary, Mental Health, Audiobook, Translated Fiction

225 pages, Kindle Edition

Published February 13, 2024

About the author

Francesca Manfredi è una scrittrice italiana. Nel 2015 è stata tra gli autori della serie teatrale 6Bianca realizzata dal Teatro Stabile di Torino. Tiene corsi di narrazione alla Scuola Holden di Torino, fondata nel 1994 da Alessandro Baricco. È rappresentata da Andrew Wylie, un famoso agente letterario statunitense, che ha conosciuto in occasione di una lezione da lui tenuta presso la Scuola Holden. Alcuni suoi lavori sono stati pubblicati su Linus (periodico) e sul Corriere della Sera. Afferma di essere stata influenzata dal minimalismo di Raymond Carver.

La sua prima raccolta di racconti Un buon posto dove stare ha vinto il Premio Campiello nella sezione Opera Prima 2017. Nel 2019 pubblica il suo primo romanzo, L'impero della polvere, edito da La nave di Teseo.

Reviews

[Sarah ~ · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Silent Period: A Novel - Francesca Manfredi




"كان يمتلك ذلك النوع من الصوت الذي كنت سأسعى إليه بكل سرور حين يعتريني الأرق"

"أردت اسماً قصيرًا؛ فالأسماء القصيرة بسيطة وذاتية.. أردت اسمًا يستطيع الناس أن ينطقوه في نفس واحد ثم يتركوني وشأني."

"قال .... إن الوحدة، بالنسبة لكثير من الناس، تعادل الاختفاء من الوجود."
...

رواية بعنوان بيت زهير بن أبي سلمى:
سَئِمتُ تَكاليفَ الحَياةِ...

كريستينا شابة تعمل في مكتبة الجامعة وتعيش مع والديها في تورينو وعاشت طوال حياتها في ظل شقيقتها الكبرى المتألقة إيلينا؛ كريستينا سئمت الحياة وصعوبات التواصل وتعقيداته في عالم لا يفهمها فتختار الصمت التام...

تسرد الرواية بصوت البطلة الصامتة ومراقبتها للعالم الخارجي وآرائها... سرد الكاتبة جميل جدًا.. وأحببت مونولوجات البطلة، كانت بسيطة وصادقة وواقعية، تناقش الرواية العزلة-اختيارية كانت أم مفروضة، وغموض الوجود وخواء العالم الحديث...
الحقيقة كان كل شيء يسير على مايرام ولكن لا أدري ماذا حدث في الثلث الأخير-صمت صوت البطلة للأبد أظن هذا كان السبب وانتقلت الرواية من صوت كريستينا إلى صوت شقيقتها إيلينا ومن هنا فقدت اهتمامي بالعمل.


هذه ثاني رواية إيطالية أقرؤها وتناقش عالمنا اليوم الذي تسيطر عليه وسائل التواصل الاجتماعي ولكن فقد أي معنى للتواصل الحقيقي؛ الرواية الأخرى التي قرأتها العام الماضي :
Perfection - Vincenzo Latronico
..

[Laura Gotti · Rating 2 out of 5]

No, non ci siamo. Seconda chance che le dò, ovviamente ultima, non me ne voglia (come se qui sopra leggesse qualcuno, ormai è diventato il mio quaderno degli appunti personali, scrivo per ricordare, scrivo per come sto in quel momento, non leggo quasi più i commenti, essere qui sopra e pensare serva a qualcosa è come essere ricchi con i soldi del Monopoli).

La protagonista di questo romanzo vince la palma d'oro come protagonista più antipatica, più assurda, più vittima - in buona compagnia, diciamo pari merito, con quell'altra simpatica della protagonista di quel libro assurdo che è l'oblio della Moshfegh (pun intended) - della storia. Il racconto di questa pseudo esperienza è banale, piatto, senza mai un guizzo e lo è pure la scrittura che non mi ha mai dato un motivo per andare avanti. Ma io sono testarda e sono arrivata alla fine e l'ultima parte è ancora più irritante della prima: il cambio di persona, una sorta di spiegazione, un po' di pietismo, un po' di buonismo, insomma un'insalata mista e scondita.

Peccato. Peccato davvero perché l'idea era buona: prima scompaio dai social, poi smetto di parlare, perché le parole servono a poco e tanto continuiamo solo a fraintenderci e a ferirci, e poi, piano piano, scompaio del tutto. Mi piaceva l'idea del silenzio, i silenzi si imparano, io ho imparato tardi e solo quando le persone valgono poco, l'idea di scomparire piano piano dai contatti inutili e anche dagli amici - che poi tanto amici non sono per davvero - e anche l'idea del non scrivere più (qui, da nessuna parte, mai più aprire un file per raccontare, è un'idea con cui gioco da un bel po'). C'erano tutte le premesse e poi, invece, quello che ne è uscito è un mezzo disastro, una scrittura piatta, una fine incerta.

Forse le belle idee dovrebbero rimanere solo nella nostra testa, come quel bicchiere di birra che ho bevuto a Manchester l'altra sera, era così stonato, così fuori luogo, come me in quel pub seduta a un tavolo da sola mentre un tizio cercava di raccontarmi cose.

[cass krug · Rating 4 out of 5]

this book is what finally convinced me to delete instagram off my phone LOL. this feels like the 2026 version of my year of rest and relaxation, rather than sally rooney as the synopsis says. compulsively readable and relatable. really loved the tone and the style, and i flew through the book.

while our narrator goes from simply deleting social media to the more extreme vow of complete silence, the message is clear: we weren’t built for all the noise that crowds our lives. what would it be like to stop contributing to the noise? would you still be human? what are the limits of our connection with each other? i also loved how this ended, with the switch in POV.

this was a great start to my 2026 reading. really digs in to a lot of things i think we’re all grappling with recently and has set the scene for what i’m hoping will be a more quiet, analog year. 4.5⭐️

thank you to ww norton and netgalley for the digital copy!

[Sara Booklover · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un romanzo contemporaneo italiano che fa riflettere tantissimo sulla comunicazione e sul mondo dei social.
Una lettura davvero molto interessante dal punto di vista socio-culturale e psicologico. Nonostante sia un libro abbastanza breve perché sotto le 300 pagine va letto con calma, metabolizzando informazioni e pensieri che ne scaturiscono. La tematica è molto attuale, com’è anche attualissimo il contesto in cui si svolge la storia. La storia, i suoi sviluppi, i risvolti finali, è stato tutto molto ben ragionato e tutt’altro che banale, con un finale che ha saputo stupirmi perché esce completamente dai binari della prevedibilità. Anche lo stile di scrittura mi è piaciuto. 4,5★

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to the publisher for the gifted copy.

As Cristina, a young woman nears the end of her 20s, she undergoes a transformation, one that begins with the deleting of all social media profiles and gradually descends into an intentional monthslong bout of silence.

Thrilled by the temptation of never having to share an opinion, never having to wake up the morning after a night out and regret the words said the night before, and never having to dilute the meaning of her words by being forced to speak so many of them, she simply stops speaking altogether. Though Cristina has her reasons, it's a selfish act that impacts every relationship in her life but she is unwilling to compromise. As she halts the use of her voice, the book takes a reflective turn as all we're left with are the interior workings of Cristina's mind.

The book takes an ironic turn near the end as Cristina's vow of silence grows in popularity and she, who has been so determined to contribute little to nothing to the world around her, becomes an unwitting influencer and her project takes on a life and meaning of its own.

I found the story here to have more substance and to be much more thought-provoking than Manfredi's last effort. What didn't change from the last novel to this one (thankfully) is the quality of Oklap's translation. Smooth, competent, and infused with humor throughout, it was a real treat to spend time with and I'll definitely continue to seek out titles by this duo.

Fans of My Year of Rest and Relaxation and characters who shrink the scope of their world in favor of social isolation may enjoy stepping into the troubled mind of our young protagonist. I found it to be a very solid read.

[Brandy Leigh · Rating 3 out of 5]

Beautiful writing, but I’d be lying if I said I fully understood it. Even 200+ pages in, I wasn’t totally sure why she stopped talking. It reminded me a lot of “The Vegetarian” which was atmospheric, symbolic, unsettling — and I loved that book, so this isn’t hate. I just didn’t quite get there with this one.

[Stacey Reads It All · Rating 4 out of 5]

I ended up giving The Silent Period about 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4. The writing itself was technically excellent — really sharp, precise prose that felt carefully constructed and thoughtful all the way through. Francesca Manfredi clearly knew exactly what she was doing stylistically, and I appreciated that level of craft.

That said, the pacing was slow. Like… noticeably slow. It often felt like a chore to get through, even when I could see what the book was trying to build emotionally. I respected it more than I actually enjoyed reading it, if that makes sense.

Nicol Zanzarella’s narration was strong and expressive, and she handled the tone of the story well, which definitely helped keep me engaged during the quieter stretches.

Overall, I was glad I experienced it, even if it tested my patience at times. Thank you to HighBridge Audio and NetGalley for the ARC.

[unabloggerdilibri · Rating 3 out of 5]

⭐️⭐️⭐️,5/5
un libro che ho trovato estremamente attuale, mi sono ritrovata molto nella protagonista Cristina, la quale deciderà di iniziare questo suo “percorso” eliminandosi inizialmente da qualsiasi social, per poi proseguire smettendo completamente di parlare.
Un messaggio forte e potente quello che ci viene “lanciato” che ci porterà a riflettere sulla solitudine e il “vuoto” comunicativo delle nostre vite.

[Julie]

DNF@13%

The main character just rambled the whole time and wasn’t very fun to follow along with her thoughts.

[A Dreaming Bibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐

Thanks to NetGalley, W. W Norton & Company (eARC) and RBMedia (ALC) for providing me with advanced copies.

This had a very interesting premise but I'm not fully sure I liked the execution. I'm also not sure if I missed some nuances because they got lost in translation or otherwise. I liked that this book gave a perspective on what would happen (potentially) if someone or many were to stop talking one day to them and those around them. It was also a nice discourse on the problems and effects of social media on one's behaviour and relationships, albeit a bit preachy at the end. Cristina's monologues about random things got a bit annoying after a point. I understand the message the author was trying to send about her noticing and thinking about things more at a slower pace etc. But, there was too much of that and I felt it didn't add much to the story. I would recommend this to anyone who's looking for a book with a unique premise and maybe something similar to My Year Of Rest And Relaxation (I haven't read this yet but it sounds similar).

The narrator did a great job of bringing out the core of this book. It definitely improved my reading experience.

[Kathy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I received "The Silent Period" by Francesca Manfredi (translatedby Ekin Oklap) as an Advanced Reading Copy from BookBrowse. It was hard to finish, but I did. this book was just not for me. I didn't like any of the characters, most especially Cristina. The premise was different, but more might have been done to make it more interesting. I can see it being interpreted in different ways. I chose to see it as a journey through mental illness. That was the only way I could accept Cristina's ambivalence to the worry she caused her family and friends.

I didn't like this book, but I hope it is a good read for others.

[Luke Hillier · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Your silence is something about you. It is a starting point, and it is something we share. Something we love and that causes us pain at the same time. We will work to give it the space that it is due, not to chase it away but to prevent it from possessing us and our lives. To make sure that we are the ones controlling us it, not the other way around."

This is a strange, provocative novel that I really enjoyed as I read it. The narrator, Cristina, is a prickly and complicated partner through the story and I often felt like I was sparring with her as things spiraled further and further. As someone with my own Quakerly affections for silence, I was extremely drawn in by the premise here, and initially a bit disappointed that her motivations felt more self-serving and self-pitying than a more earnest quest for discovery or discipline. This is similar to Fresh, Green Life, also featuring a protagonist who adopted a vow of silence for less than noble reasons, but I quickly warmed to that book and the same happened here. There are lots of stirring insights around solitude, connection, and what we do and don't owe one another in the relationships we share. Ultimately Cristina's endeavor takes on a sort of selfishness that is so grimly punishing, first to others but ultimately to herself. Manfredi depicts her mutism as a sort of addiction or eating disorder, something seemingly willful that has developed an insidious grip on her with real consequences.

The final quarter of the book takes an unexpected turn that I wasn't sure I was on board with at first, but ultimately won me over. Although it felt rushed and fairly unrealistic, I appreciated the expanded scope and especially the very weird conclusion. This portion brought to mind another book I really liked, Chrysalis, and I really think of the two novels as being (ironically) in conversation with each other. What they're saying back and forth and in a shared voice together is unnerving, strange, and difficult to hear, but I think worth listening to.

[Megzi · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is one of those books that has gorgeous writing but it's saying the same thing over and over. A 28 year old woman decides to stop talking, finding refuge in the silence. She begins by deleting all her social media, and then ceases speaking altogether. I'm all for a minimal plot and an unhinged woman's downward spiral, but at times this felt like a chore to read. For some reason the book never comes "alive" until the very end.

Cristina is somewhat inscrutable. I've seen people compare this to My Year of Rest and Relaxation. This is not it. That book is satire, and although the main character is insufferable, we can understand the narrator's reason for her actions. In The Silent Period, we can only cobble together why Cristina stops talking for a few reasons, despite endless rumination on communication, human language, social media, and how we portray ourselves to one another.

Because we are in Cristina's head, a great deal of the book was about justifying her actions. Much of the commentary on social media was pretty familiar. Maybe I'm also biased, as someone who suffered from selective mutism when I was a small child, but I'm never going to be on board with someone choosing to engage in selective mutism (if you can even call it that) and finding it empowering. As women we are already reared to engage in self-effacement every day. Even in books where the protagonist chooses a drastic ending for herself (i.e. Ripe by Sarah Rose Etter, Assembly by Natasha Brown) those stories worked because the narrator was removing herself from the larger harmful system she was part of. This felt very naval-gazey, and her self-destruction was very singular, removed from society, which is the point, but I felt more irritation with her, than empathy.

The back cover also gives away the entire plot of the book, including the ending, so heads up on that.

"I recalled reading somewhere that love defeats death because it gives new meaning to the passage of time, stops it, or at least slows it down."

"...when pain comes looking for you, you need to stop and swallow it whole; otherwise it'll come back and find you in your sleep."

"The problem is that in our brains, useless moments live in the same rooms as important ones, and they contaminate each other."

[Antonio Longo · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,25 ⭐️
Libro scorrevole con al centro un'idea molto interessante.
Avrei preferito più introspezione, in qualche modo è come se non mi fossero arrivate davvero fino in fondo le motivazioni che spingono la protagonista ad intraprendere il suo percorso.
Nel complesso è stata una lettura piacevole ma mi aspettavo di più.

[Emma Bussolotta · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded up because I deeply enjoy the overall message of this book.

[Marlienable · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Silent Period follows Cristina Martino, a 28‑year‑old woman living in Turin who makes a radical decision: she stops speaking. What begins as withdrawing from social media gradually becomes a commitment to complete silence. Cristina continues to go to work, see family, and navigate relationships, but she refuses communication entirely. As her older sister and the people around her try to understand what is happening, the novel explores identity, connection, and what remains of a person when language is removed. Over the course of the novel, we witness Christina unravel as her silence becomes both shield and prison.

The book opens with references to statistics on suicide attempts, which makes it almost impossible not to initially frame Cristina as mentally unstable. That tension lingers throughout the novel: are we witnessing a breakdown, a protest against social expectations, or an extreme attempt at self‑preservation?

In a world saturated with self‑presentation and constant commentary, Christina withdraws completely. “Identity did not exist without approval. Acceptance was a crucial parameter, an indispensable form of sustenance.” Her silence protects her from judgment. Where there is no speech, there can be no misunderstanding.

But silence also invites projection. Deprived of her voice, others begin to narrate her for her. One‑sided conversations fill the void. People articulate who they believe she is. Shrouded in silence, Cristina becomes untouchable, and increasingly isolated.

What makes the novel so compelling is the slow spiral of Christina's inner monologue. She insists, “I was fine,” even as the narrative suggests otherwise. Afraid of not being accepted, she withholds herself entirely. When she is tricked into communicating, she is angry with herself for still craving connection. The need to be seen feels like weakness. “No need for a lobotomy, for I had performed one on myself.”

I was particularly struck by the novel’s engagement with identity in the age of social media : “I was appalled by the forms the self could assume.” The pressure to be legible and approved of feels relentless, and Cristina’s silence reads as a radical, if deeply self‑destructive, refusal.

If you love the idea of being trapped inside the mind of a woman who is slowly, quietly unraveling, this book is for you. The tension builds not through shock, but through intimacy. You’re right there with Christina as she retreats further into silence. Fans of Mieko Kawakami will especially love this book: the same razor‑sharp psychological focus, the same willingness to sit in discomfort, the same haunting immersion in a woman’s inner world.

Overall, I really enjoyed The Silent Period. It’s unsettling, introspective, and quietly tense. Christina’s silence is something I know I’ll carry with me long after finishing this book. It makes me wonder: how much of ourselves we withhold in order to be accepted?

I received an advance reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Thanks highbridgeaudio and netgalley for the free audiobook!

[Ayushi R · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kind of a weird read but I actually really enjoyed it. It was very relatable at times and did a great job making me feel existential dread while still being a little humorous

[spunti_di_lettura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un voto che non è un voto. Una ricerca che non è ricerca. Una pausa dalle comunicazioni che, paradossalmente, prende e comunica. Perché il silenzio dice sempre qualcosa, anche quando non vuol dire nulla.

In un mondo social che ci spinge sempre su schieramenti opposti, in cui bisogna sempre prendere posizione ed esprimere la propria opinione su tutto ecco un testo liberatorio che accarezza le nostre fragilità e mette a tacere il nostro costante bisogno di approvazione.

[hannah ⊹ ࣪ ˖ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ll be honest, I had no idea what to expect from this, but The Silent Period definitely felt like a book I didn’t know I needed but I’m so glad I read. It’s not really a plot-forward book but more quietly unhinged and deeply dialed in to the exhaustion of being chronically online all the time.

Cristina, 28 and drifting, starts with a simple, relatable act: deleting Instagram. I’ve been there, you’ve been there, my husband is still there. From there, the novel slips into something far more extreme as her digital detox turns into a vow of complete silence. What makes this so compelling is how natural the progression feels. Manfredi captures that low-grade burnout so many of us live with: the sense that the noise never stops, that language itself has become overused, flattened, transactional. The question at the heart of the book isn’t just what happens if you stop speaking, but what happens if you stop contributing to the noise at all?

The prose is sparse but sharp, often funny in a dry way, and compulsively readable despite (or because of) how interior it is. I flew through this, not because a lot happens, but because every page feels tuned into something deeply familiar: the limits of connection, the performance of selfhood, and the strange violence of constant visibility. The translation by Ekin Oklap deserves praise here—the voice feels clean, precise, and quietly devastating. The shift toward the end was especially effective, reframing Cristina’s silence and asking harder questions about how we interpret withdrawal, autonomy, and disappearance. Is silence resistance? Is it self-erasure? Can opting out ever be neutral?

This probably won’t work for readers looking for tidy answers or big emotional payoffs, but as a slim novel of ideas, it really lands. It’s thought-provoking, unsettling, and oddly tender, and considering I say the words “I want to throw my phone in a river and never speak to another person again” at least once a week, I loved this. The Silent Period feels like an early thesis for a more quiet, analog year—and a sharp indictment of how loud modern life has become.

A big thank you to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for this eARC!

[Bodies in the Library · Rating 4 out of 5]

As someone from a culture in which people in general and women in particular are expected to be chatty as a way of putting everyone at their ease, and who prefers to spend a lot of my time in silence, I was intrigued by this novel, mostly narrated by the main character, Cristina, who, at the age of 29 decides to become completely silent.

It starts out as a withdrawal from social media, then a retreat from chatting with her mother and sister and friends, and evolves into choosing to remain completely silent at all times.

On the one hand, Cristina enjoys knowing that if she says nothing she cannot be misunderstood, but on the other she soon finds that other people feel so uncomfortable that they project feelings onto her. Some people, like her mother, she finds good at monologising, but others start to attempt to speak for her, essentially providing their own part of the conversation AND an imagined set of thoughts to form her part.

This, for me, was the strongest part of the novel. Having been brought up to be chatty, I hate putting other people under the pressure of carrying an entire conversation, and Cristina’s situation at this point illustrates just how uncomfortable I fear people would become if I never said anything to them at all. Cristina describes herself (to us in her internal monologue) as selfish, and I must admit, this level of silence is selfish.

As a career-long librarian, I have to say that while I spend most of my day in silence, it would be impossible to never speak at all, and even more so in Cristina’s junior level. Politely answering enquiries from library users and working collaboratively with colleagues is a minimum expectation. But it’s fiction, so …

As time goes on, Cristina moves from positive impacts into a space in which her silence throws her too much into her own company (because how boring she is to be around, basically), and we start to see her silence move into what can best be described as self-effacement.

For me, if the novel had ended at this point, with Cristina wondering (perhaps to her fish Harpo) about the extent to which she will reintroduce speaking to her life, it would have been a perfect read, inviting, as it does, the reader to contemplate the extent to which we choose to interact with other people (as opposed to feeling obligated) and the extent to which our identity is formed in the context of other people.

Instead, though, we have a strange (silent) interaction with the world of therapy; Cristina’s personal choice being publicised and becoming a political movement, and a final section in which her older sister explains her. I would, quite happily have done without this.

Overall, an interesting listen, 5 star for the first 3 fifths and then (sorry) no stars for the final two fifths for me.

Worth a read if you like different takes on digital detoxes and the role of speaking in friendship formation.

[Kaitlyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

My Rating : ⭐⭐⭐

Plot: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I was definitely intrigued by the concept of this book. A girl, close to my age, deciding one day to stop speaking, a vow of silence, and much of her book is her battling with the reason behind this choice, and the consequences of it. On the surface it’s a very interesting plot, but for this one central theme it was really dragged out and slow. Much of the book is our main character monologuing to the reader about works, speech, society, death, etc. This really leads me to believe this book is not just this surface level plot of a girl deciding not to speak, but really a look into the mind of someone with severe mental illness, and we see how her choice not only harms her, but the people she “loves”

What I Loved:
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I loved that some parts were very deep, analyzing the society we live in today, with social media and how we act outside of it. Mainly the fact that our words have lost a lot of their meaning and depth.

What I Didn’t Love:
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ For a book about a woman taking a personal vow of silence, she sure does yap a lot on the page. There are whole chapters, not even broken up into easier to digest paragraphs, or her just monologing, not to anyone, just to the reader. This takes up about 90% of the book. There’s a whole chapter about her fish that felt so unnecessary.

Writing: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ While there were a lot of amazingly deep moments of introspection and social commentary in this book, a lot of the writing was drawn out well past necessary. I think this book would have been amazing if it were 100 pages shorter and some of the extra gunk was cut.

Characters: ⭐⭐⭐
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I HATED our main character. She was sick, and not in the loveable manic pixie dream girl way, but in the -you’re an awful fucking person- way. She would lie about trauma to push people away, used people to her benefit and offered nothing good in return. She was entirely selfish and rude. She made this choice of not speaking, which benefited her NON, and in turn hurt literally everyone in her life and didn’t even feel bad about it. Only painted herself as a victim to a situation she herself caused.
I loved the side characters, her friend, her boyfriend, her sister; You can really see how much they all love her, and do their best to respect her choice. Yet our MC does not budge and only pushes them all further away.

The ending was both interesting and upsetting. I wish there was more on this book in English so that I can see other people's interpretations on this read. I’ve never claimed to be the brightest, and I often miss some nuances in writings like this, so I’d love to see what other people thought of this book (in English).

[Rebecca Reeder · Rating 4 out of 5]

I knew The Silent Period was going to be different, and that was part of the appeal. Although I could not relate to the first page of the "Reptile" opening chapter about suicide seeming pure or promising or appealing in any way (a knife looking better against one's skin instead of a loaf of bread), this short chapter's second page presented more of a universal thought: what would life be like without social media? The author touches upon the eyeball-roll boredom of posed photos with people more concerned with a photo of themselves in a place rather than enjoying the location itself. I found myself continuing to be interested in the story of Cristina (the 28-year-old, first-person narrator) with "September," chapter two. Common, everyday settings and activities versus Kafka-ish dreams of becoming a reptile make the book more universally appealing.

I found myself wondering as I read if the author was trying to document depression begins to take over a person's life and ultimately silences them, either literally or figuratively. It did seem like a search for meaning in one's life, the struggles many people have with varying degrees of depression, and shallow relationships with few truly concerned friends or family members were all a part of this book. Interestingly, however, even the protagonist does not know what to call her decision/lifestyle change, saying only "I started this 'thing' (I don't know what to call it: a journey?..." (p. 190).

Something that I understood in Part One of THE SILENT PERIOD was the attempt of friends like Daniele to stay in touch with Cristina through letters. Since I have made this attempt with a couple of special friends who had seemed quite different and somehow troubled during our last time together, I know the sadness of not being able to help a dear friend, of not knowing what was happening, and as time passed, not knowing if a friend was even still alive.

Part two of the book has some interesting observations in the form of a social media chat group. For example, "...I think that intelligence and common sense can also be measured through the ways we choose not to say anything." And, of course, just like often happens in real life, a sarcastic troll has to interrupt with a comment; in this case it is:"The real news is to find a woman who can be quiet for longer than a minute. hahahahaha."

Not really a 4 star for me, but I feel it deserves to be rounded up rather than rounded down. I appreciated the reading experience. Thank you to BookBrowse and W.W.Norton Publishers for my ARC.

[Janine · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a person who enjoys the “art of talking” - meaning I always got Cs in conduct in grade school - reading about the “art of silence” seemed like a conundrum. But as I soon learned in this book the value of words can be inflated.

Christina Martino is a young Italian woman living in Turin. She’s settled for a library job rather than pursuing one in archeology. Her favorite word is “ineffable” - “ too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words”. And her conundrum is her desire to no longer be - modern society is just too noisy and overwhelming. After reading a study on suicide, something she cannot contemplate doing but desires, she decides to become silent. She starts with eliminating social media before embracing silence. The book describes in part the journey from not speaking to eliminating all words, gestures and even human contact in an effect to lose herself completely. In Part 2 of the book, we get another perspective of Christina’s decision.

This is a character driven novel driven by Christina’s thoughts and actions. The author pursues the idea of a character searching for self fulfillment but believing she’s not contributing much. She struck me as depressed but the author did not pursue that aspect. Instead the construct is if I lose myself completely from everything and everyone will the world be a better place? What you learn is that connectedness is hard wired into humans. As Christina pursues perfection in silence she loses friends and family who all want to be near her.

I think the premise of the book was interesting. My experience with solitude comes from my Catholic background where people enter certain religious orders seeking to grow closer to God by losing themselves to self through prayer and meditation. Christina is trying to lose herself but her motivation is to no longer exist - which is a selfish motivation in my estimation. So I was glad the author put in Part 2. I think though the author wants us to draw our own conclusions.

I would add this book is beautifully written. I kept on reading even as Christina was annoying me because of the writing - it just compelled you not to give up. Keep reading, which I’m glad I did.

I’d like to thank NetGalley and W.W. Norton and Company for allowing me to read this ARC.
#thesilentperiod
#francescamanfredi
#wwnortonandsons

[Holly · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is one of the best translations I’ve read. Oklap’s Italian to English is nuanced and seamless. Unfortunately, I did not enjoy the story itself as much as the translation.

In the story, twenty-eight year old Cristina longs for solitude and silence. After quitting social media, she is still tired of sharing information about herself with others, even verbally, so she decides to stop talking for good. She carefully plans her silence by explaining to her best friend, making up a story about laryngitis to her boss at work, scaring off her boyfriend, and preparing her parents.

It’s an interesting premise, but unfortunately, I found it mostly dull and depressing. I was never truly clear on Cristina’s why. Maybe if I could relate more to that I would have connected more. Told through Christina’s POV, long passages of banal narration of her actions, thoughts as she putters around her apartment, and observations of those around her create a flat narrative arc. She accomplishes her goal of displeasing others, becoming invisible and silent. To those who care about her, she seems to be self annihilating.

I would add Silent Period to a growing list of books about women who self-destruct, who transform into weaker versions of themselves. I would recommend it to those who enjoyed My Year of Rest and Relaxation and The Coin.

Thank you to BookBrowse and Norton for the advance reader’s copy in exchange for an honest review.

[Niccola Gentile · Rating 2 out of 5]

*ARC VERSION*
TW- though there is none in the book there is talk of suicide: like page 1.

Okay…. Not really sure how to rate this book as I’m very much not the target audience. I didn’t really like this character, at all.

There were times when the things she would say or think made sense. Made you look and think inwards. Give you reflection (I think this why I can give it 2.5 coffee cups - 2 for Goodreads)

But other times it felt very strange. Very out of left field. I know this is a translated book from Italian to English so I don’t know if some things were lost in translation but overall it kind of felt like rambling. That there was no point. It was 239 pages of rambling. (Though it looks like the official book is 250+ pages)

Maybe I am not analytical enough. But the lead up to what happens at the end doesn’t make sense. It really doesn’t. You were given enough to understand why Cristina stopped talking - I didn’t fully understand it but I got what was happening for this character. You get her talking / thinking about not talk for about 70+ pages. So you get the build up.

Spoilers-spoilers-spoilers below
The switch up at the end to it becoming her sister pov was cool because now we get to experience her lack of speaking and talking and it shows the further depths she is going to fully let go of communication and interacting. But the pointless end was a let down. And the abruptness of the switch was like… why?

[Jason Osman · Rating 3 out of 5]

coolest cover of the year. unfortunately I judged the book by the cover and was left slightly disappointed.

It’s not bad. The second half redeems the first. I think my experience of this book is what many people feel for Catcher. Manfredi does capture the interiority of a woman quietly slipping into depression, but at times Cristina can just be insufferable. It’s obvious she’s meant to be, but like…too obvious?

Anyway, this novel nails a very specific tone. It’s the 2013 tumblr thing. The Bell Jar, Perks, Bukowski, Girl Interrupted. Carefully arranged melodrama about people who are, socioeconomically, fairly well-off, who just can’t seem to make the pieces fit into place.

In plot, it’s like, 50% MYOR&R, 20% The Guest, 20% The Hearing Test, 10% Mona. In general, I think those novels outclass this one, but there are some interesting moments here, and the second half takes the narrative to necessary extremes. The novel also poses some interesting questions about how humans communicate, and the psychology of social media.

One last thought: this is not explicitly a book about neurodiversity, but Cristina reads (to me, an autistic adult) like…well, me. Maybe that’s why I kept thinking she was a cliche

[Frankkie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars - It took me a bit to decide if I was going to like this book, mainly because the pacing is slow and revolves around the inner thoughts of the main character, Christina - who I also couldn’t decide if I liked. It takes a while for her to finally enter her “silent period,” and before that there are long reflections on the nature of modern communication. I kept wondering where the book was actually heading, since there wasn’t much plot and the central premise took so long to arrive.

Once Christina fully steps into her silent existence, though, I found the book much more readable. There’s a lot here about social media, visibility, and how people are perceived when they choose to step away from public scrutiny. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what her retreat into obscurity meant and why she felt compelled to remove herself from society entirely. My interpretation is that she became disillusioned by the performative, artificial nature of human interaction and no longer wanted to participate in it. Honestly, I feel that. But unlike Christina, I do not have the ability to shut up.

I was gifted this book as an ARC from the publisher.

[Coti · Rating 3 out of 5]

Durante las primeras 50 páginas de la novela, estaba convencida de que iba a darle las 5 estrellas. No ha sido así, y me siento decepcionada por ello.

Nunca había sentido la necesidad de subrayar tantos pasajes como con este libro. De hecho, no recuerdo la última vez que lo hice. Aun así, dejé de necesitar el lápiz pronto.

Seguramente es culpa mía por no preocuparme de investigar un poco antes de leer un libro, pero no ha sido lo que esperaba.

**Leer con precaución a partir de aquí, puede haber minispoilers**

Esperaba algo relacionado con la desintoxicación de redes, con la llegada a los 30, con el desprenderse de juicios ajenos: una especie de Fleabag, a lo mejor. Pero con la aparición en escena del mutismo, y más adelante el culto, la novela ha tomado un rumbo más cercano a La Vegetariana de Han Kang, o incluso a la segunda mitad del libro de Dune. Ambos libros me gustan, pero, entendedme: no esperaba este tipo de historia.

No sé; sabe mal cuando una novela que parece que te va a encantar, con la que pareces estar tan alineado, toma un giro que no esperas y se aleja tanto de ti. Pero, qué le vamos a hacer; la vida también está en leer libros que no sabes si te gustarán.

[Christie Stoneback · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Silent Period by Francesca Manfredi and narrated by Nicol Zanzarella was an interesting book at an individuals choice to abstain from the act of talking - to be captive to her own choice of silence. Francesca's writing is sharp and crisp and Nicol did a phenomenal job narrating this book, her straightforward tone was perfect for the personality of Cristina, the main character.

This book had me teetering on emotions of concern (is Cristina mentally unstable), anger (is Cristina full of self-righteous arrogance), pity (Cristina has caused her family and friends to deal with this decision), and in the end I landed with compassion (Cristina, in my opinion, has not found her purpose in this world and has just withdrew into her own tomb.)

I am curious on the thoughts of others as you journey through the life of Cristina. How do you help someone, who is bold to take a stand, yet also isolates from those you love her and pushes the limits of self-pity.

Thank you NetGalley, HighBridge, Francesca Manfredi and Micol Zanzarella for the advanced audio copy.

[Harperr · Rating 4 out of 5]

This translated novel follows Cristina, a 28-year-old who quits social media without notice and stops speaking altogether. I found the ideas about social media presence so relatable and thought-provoking. It makes me wonder things like what happens when we cease all communication? While I felt her lying to a coworker to avoid speaking was a bit strange, this book raises interesting questions about how silence affects our self-identity.

I expected a deeper dive into social media, and though the pacing was slow in the middle of the book especially the group activity scene. But the book redeemed itself in few final chapters. Overall, it’s a slow burn with some memorable quotes.


'Social media was not a litmut test for hapiness, and if a person looks happy on Facebook, it doesn't necessarily mean they are.'

'The more time passed, the less I missed it. It was a relief not to have to read all that mindless, fatous content, and I felt like I now had an infinite amount of time to devote to other things entirely.'