A provocative and bracing send-up of modern masculinity from the author of Class and The Story of My Purity .
Marcello, an editor and a poet, is on the brink of his forties. Like everyone in his life, including his sister-in-law, he’s writing a novel. This novel. This novel will be about women. Love. Growing older. Maybe even taking responsibility. But unfortunately for Marcello, the women in his life resist definition. They flit and flicker constantly between archetype and sirens and saviors, subordinates and savants, vixens and villains.
So Marcello cannot write plainly about love. Instead, he tries to write about the complexities of his many Eleonora, the junior editor, his former protégé and sometime lover; Barbara, his claustrophobic girlfriend; Irene, his estranged gay sister; and his elegant mother.
Fresh, frank, and painfully cool, Francesco Pacifico’s The Women I Love dives nakedly into gender, sex, and power. Set in a vivid and alcoholic Italy, it acknowledges and subverts the narrow ways canonical male writers gaze at, and somehow fail to see, women―illuminating the possibility of equity between people in love, in bed, in work, and in life.
I seem to be on a roll with Italian novels! Such great writing. It’s got a very meta/ post-modern style… the main character being an author writing a novel, that is THIS novel. It could have been really pretentious yet the definitely unreliable narrator, manages to be just self-aware and honest enough, to remain compelling. Each of the five sections focus on significant women in his life - His on-and-off-again lover, his wife, his sister, his sister-in-law and his mother. And these women just come alive off the page, so vibrant and fascinating, so his toxic masculinity is over-shadowed.,Whilst plot is scarce, the writing is so gorgeous, I couldn’t stop reading….
The protagonist and narrator Marcello, the name beckoning to Fellini's journalist in La Dolce Vita, is writing a novel, and a goal of his literary endeavor is to see if he can describe the women in his life that he loves or has loved - even as he's currently navigating his relationships with them or reflecting on his relationships with them in the past - without turning them into caricatures. So an absence is at the heart of the novel, can he write without the male gaze, can he write without centering himself? Is he a male writer for this century, a revamped Philip Roth with an updated awareness of socio-gender issues and increased sensitivity towards them? Given that Marcello is writing in first person and exploring his relationships to these five women - Eleanor, the young editor he mentored and with whom he had an affair; Barbara, his girlfriend and eventual wife; Danielle, his sister-in-law and an aspiring novelist; Irene, his estranged sister; and his mother - it seems an impossible task. And it actually is mostly impossible, but it is also fun, at times heart-tugging, much alcohol is involved in this quasi send-up, to a degree, of toxic masculinity, although sometimes a man is simply toxic, related to his personhood and not his gender, and Marcello is a bit of that. Set in Rome and Milan, set mostly among the Italian bourgeoise, Marcello's voice is generally engaging, the family history interesting, as are his relationships to these women, and to his best friend, Francesco, a writer with the name of this novel's author, who lives in Rome, as the author does. There is more than a dollop of meta-ness here, and there are various asides of Marcello's editorial philosophy - how he would write this novel, what he would not include, that he does not like long sections of dialogue, what tense some section of the translation would be in, if it was in Italian, etc. The novel follows Marcello as he looks back and as he exists in the present in five sections named for the women.
This took a long time to finish. I put it down and picked it up quite a few times. I do think it was worth it and would love to go to a discussion about it. I think I would enjoy it more if I revisited it multiple times.
tbh I did fall into this book very easily but it did not accomplish its mission of painting women other then saints or whores 🙏🏻 I found the side notes distracting and the mention of Marcello potentially r**** Barbara was really upsetting
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
On the surface, this book appears to start as a memoir of sorts by a man nearing 40 and getting a head start on his midlife crisis. By the time it ends, however, and you realize that the women of the title are not merely his conquests but ones who have formed him, the man has laid himself bare in ways that feel cliched at certain points, but also surprising and insightful at others. Marcello, the narrator, a book editor and poet aspiring to find a place among Italy's literati, is writing about the women he loves, and he inserts notes and asides throughout the manuscript explaining his choices as a writer. The "meta" nature of this set up feels self-involved or self-obsessed at first, but eventually arrives at introspection and self-awareness that—at least for this reader—feels rare in novels by men about men.
Given its topicality, this is an ambitious work. At a time when the world is growing ever more aware of the effects of toxic masculinity at an interpersonal as well as a societal level (and not just on women but on men as well), Pacifico takes on not just the minefields of marriage, extra-marital affairs and family, but also the delicate relationship of writer and subject and what men are capable of doing to women when they write about them. I didn't love this novel, but it managed to engender my compassion, which as Marcello discovers, is entirely the point.
Francesco Pacifico's The Women I Love is a wonderful new addition to to the world of literary fiction. It's postmodernism, but somehow remains unpretentious-- sort of hearkening back to David Foster Wallace, with its meta approach and "me too" era commentary, all delivered with a humility and frankness that is relatable and keeps it from being obnoxious. I love the push-pull of the narrator's thoughts and his general sense of awareness-- of himself, of his friends, family, and lovers, of society, and even, of his blind spots/lack of awareness when it comes to all the aforementioned. He's candid, narratively naked, in such a way that the novel feels almost as if it's nonfiction. While there's little in the way of plot, as is to be expected of literary fiction, there's a certain freshness that when combined with the location and dynamic characters, I think could see it cross over into a more mainstream readership.
Thanks to Netgalley and FSG for the ebook. I thought this might be a long litany of female lovers, but the author means the women who are most important in his life. Elenora, a co-worker at the publishing house where they edit fiction, is his last big affair before he finally commits to his longtime girlfriend, Barbara. He does commit to Barbara, but arguments soon begin and he moves in with his brother and his wife, Daniella, until he has a falling out with her and then moves in with his estranged sister Irene. Irene came out as a lesbian and has been ignored by their parents. When he reconnects with Irene it doesn’t take long for her to become one of his favorite people in the world once more. The final chapter brings many of these characters together in the author’s mind as this chapter examines his mother.
I liked many things about this. This author has a way with language and there are some very interesting lines in this book. My favorite was "In my family, dwelling on disappointments means you lack restraint; sorrow is just a sign of ingratitude, not a emotion. "
I liked how this story is set up. The life of the narrator but told through his opinions and experiences involving the important women in his life. I found myself wondering do they really eat this much pizza in Italy, wow there are a lot of plants and flowers in the cities and why do so many of the characters own an apartment but then rent out that apartment and live somewhere else?
It will probally get attention due to its male pov on a consensual vs non-consensual encounter but that is not a big part of this story. It may have made more sense if that topic was dealt with more.
Although the prose and translation was great and what was hoping to be a celebration of womanhood, it missed the mark. All the protagonist does is acknowledge his ignorance and abuse, but chooses to ignore it. There was no growth in this novel.
TW: sexual assault
I had to put the book down for a few days when the protagonist admits to raping a woman about 270 pages in and that fact was breezed over. Such a pivotal point for reflection, yet was brushed past the male author. Just overall disappointed that this turned out to be a case study, hypersexualization, and psychoanalysis of women rather than the celebration of femme people in a patriarchal world it presented itself to be.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
If I could’ve finished this in one day I would’ve. I thought about this book whenever I was away from it, it was written so beautifully. Characters were so beautifully complex!! So nice seeing characters fully developed. Let me get into the juicy bits ..
The author/narrator of the story: I was constantly going back and forth with him between being irritated, passive, in high hopes, and disappointed. He acknowledges almost everything he gets wrong, talks about his growth, and then we go backwards again. But he’s human and that is portrayed very well. Definitely could’ve done without the assault however, and maybe the self proclaimed “ I did it” rubbed me the wrong way 🤷♀️
Eleanora - her section was very short and only adds for confusion, even though she’s thrown in almost throughout the entire book. To bring her back only to push her down farther only seemed to be used as another “lesson/growth opportunity” for the narrator which is .. lame.
Barbara- a real person. As crazy or toxic as she may seem she’s real. Her emotions and behaviors are extreme but she is constantly overlooked by the narrator and others in the story. I enjoyed her character and felt she deserved better. This section may resonate with many.
Daniela- Another character I felt was overlooked and not given much attention. But good representation of depression and what that looks like from the outside or what it COULD look like to the outside.
Irene and My mother - I couldn’t form much of an opinion, she was used a little bit just as a chapter name I feel like. Hated the fact forming a relationship with his sister is what made him see her as a human being or rather made him see that women are human beings idk which is worse. I appreciate the fact he can share their stories though and appreciate the beauty and importance in them. Making connections of his own.
All in all it was an entirely well thought out story. I loved reading it and I will love thinking back on this one. Highly recommend.
This is a fascinating glimpse into how different life is in Italy. It is completely normal to have a mistress. It is usual to life at home as an adult, and not to own your own home. Marcello, our anti-hero, is passionate and thoughtful and also not much of a grown-up. He drifts from situation to situation, not having much of a plan. Marcello seems to have charmed life, never running out of money and always getting a new job when he needs to. Ultimately, his existence is pretty sad. He is loved by beautiful women and doesn't know what to do. Poor Marcello.
3.5 stars! this was a very interesting book. i don't think i've ever read a book from a pov of a man that was so aware of how women are written. i generally am not a fan of male pov because of how horrible they depict women. thinking of portnoys complaint and bright lights big city. I think I didn't relate that much to any of the characters which is why it's a 3.5 stars. Very well written with some great lines but I don't think it will stick with me.
By far the most incredible and insightful piece I’ve read this year. What a tender and reflective take on modern bourgeois masculinity. Pacifico is perhaps the only man I trust to write women: the deep reflections and failings of his narrator reflected a man messily navigating love and loss and art. “Tender” is my word for this novel, the chapters on Irene were my favorite (Daniela surprised me the most!). I only wish I could’ve read this in the original Italian.
About halfway through I started to realize how much of an asshole the narrator is. Why did it take me that long? The writing is casual and easy and the translation is great. Makes you think about how the patriarchy frames men’s emotions, holds them back. This is an interesting take on the most vulnerable and toxic parts of masculinity. I enjoyed reading this.
if I met this book at a bar, I would most definitely go home with it.
earnest, sweet, and beguiling: a masterful rendering of the different forms of love a man encounters, wins, loses, reveres, in his life. boy oh boy do I love italian writers!
Sentences an editor would admire and clever cultural observations, but it felt like...veiled satire that didn't get give the cold glare the character merited.