In Aciman's masterpiece and most well-known work, he introduces us to 17-year-old Elio and his love affair with 24-year-old Oliver during one summer in Italy. They go from wary strangers to kindred friends and then finally to passionate lovers. Aciman takes us into the highs and the lows of a young man's sexual and romantic awakening with such narrative skill that, despite the narrative specificity and the trapped-in-time quality of the novel, everyone can still recognize the rapture that accompanies desire and longing. Matched with lyrical writing and penetrating insight, Call Me by Your Name secures its place as a modern masterpiece.
Most depictions of the apocalypse in pop culture follow a certain motif: a kinetic and action-packed narrative featuring a hyper-masculine protagonist. Megan Hunter's The End We Start From does not follow that motif. The novel instead features a strong female protagonist who just gave birth just as the oceans begins to engulf most of England and her quest to find a safe place for her newborn son. Told in disjointed vignettes reminiscent of Joan Didion, The End We Start From is a ruminative novel about the hardships a mother would endure to ensure the survival of her child.
I have never read anything quite like Hallberg's Field Guide. It is akin to crossing together an anthropological study with a fictional account of two dysfunctional families. Composed of around 60 non-linear vignettes that tell the story of the Harrisons and the Hungates as they navigate what has become a common narrative thread of families hiding their imperfections and dissatisfaction behind the veneer provided by the American Dream. Hallberg gives us visions of children growing up, of people dying, of love blossoming, of desire, and of ennui.
