This was such a rollercoaster read, veering from underwhelming to overwhelming and back in the span of a paragraph. But in the end, what a rush, what satisfaction, the urge to do it all over again.

An introspective novel from the perspective of the protagonist, Aisling ("ash-ling"), whose very role as an Irish book character in Italy already points to one of the biggest literary tropes of Character Running Away from Her Past. There's no actual plot to the book, Aisling's thoughts and memories are the real drivers of the story and what great takes she has on various topics! It was fascinating to be in her mind, as dark and depressing as it was.

I wonder if this was the late-eighties/early-nineties version of contemporary introspective female pov novels where it can be difficult and overwhelming just to be alive (I mean, basically the very foundation of Irish literature! That innate crushing guilt!), with questions of identity and moral reflections on personal responsibilities and one's responsibilities to others.

In any case, it has aged quite well. A reread would be highly recommended and beneficial. ( )

I am working through the back catalogue of my new favorite writer and this novel, the third, is the least gloomy of the three (whew). Aisling, fluent in French and Italian as a means to flee her family in Ireland, meets Ted, an American, in the Umbrian village of San Giorgio where she lives. She is a woman of overwhelming fears and is only occasionally able to move out from under her dark cloud of depression. There's very little understanding between her and the Italian families she lives above and works for, and they are mystified by her resistance to la dolce vita. On top of her gloomy outlook, she's full of Big Catholic Guilt for leaving her awful mother in Ireland. Three strikes, but it turns out that others, even the sunny Italians, have it even worse. Aisling is an odd character, but her observations and dilemmas make for a palatable read. ( )

That Deirdre Madden has been compared to Jean Rhys gives you some indication of what to expect from this novel: soul-searching and angst. As Rhys so often did, Madden focusses here on a young woman, in this case Aisling, who, having left her native Ireland some years before, finds herself working as an interpreter and translator in a small town in Umbria.

Madden draws you deeply into this world with her vivid, sensual writing; you'll learn more than perhaps you'd care to know about the sordid grubbiness underlying Umbria's picture-postcard surface, and the dichotomy between the Italy beloved of tourists and the real Italy. Ever the odd one out, Aisling veers between the outsider's inability to understand the peculiar world in which she finds herself, and the occasional flashes of insight that probably only a true outsider could ever have. There are a lot of disturbing reflections on life, love, sex and death, like this one: "The sun itself that made the fruit so ripe and big, that seemed to make the people bloom so early and so evidently, mercilessly pushed everything over into decay ..." - and this is just the very first page!

As Aisling says elsewhere, "I'm not a person who has much talent for happiness." Well, you can say that again! This is actually one of the problems with this book: for a grown woman, Aisling spends an awful lot of time moaning like a teenager. Her sullen dislike of just about everyone and everything makes her trying company sometimes. After all, her life isn't so very bad: she lives in a beautiful place, and has a secure job and a kind-hearted, sweet-tempered, intelligent boyfriend, but none of these things seem to make her happy. There's a dearth of humour here, and a lack too of those little light-hearted moments and small consolations that help to make life bearable for most of us.

However, and having said that, this is actually a pretty compelling read. The plot's quite thin, but this is really a novel about a woman's inner life, and Madden is so lucid, so intelligent, and so astute that the narrative not only carries you along but also makes the journey well worth your while. Indeed, a week or more after finishing the novel, I find it lingering in my mind, which is surely one of the measures of an author's success.

Needless to say, if you want a light-hearted little read, this is not the book for you. But if you've a high tolerance threshold for weltschmerz, and want to read something a little more intelligent and challenging than your average blockbuster, why not try this? I can't promise that you'll enjoy it exactly, but I don't think you'll regret making the effort. ( )