Through a combination of a first-person voice and a balanced tone, the book paints an eminently believable and sympathetic picture that for American readers will serve the dual purpose of both literature and a mental vacation to the Neapolitan coast ... The voice is very moderate, and though the narration is not exactly how a child would talk, it provides just enough clues to indicate Amerigo’s youth without being distracting ... The author is wise to counterbalance the sad moments with moderate moments, avoiding the trap of romanticizing poverty. The readers are not led by the hand to pity the narrator, which removes the focus from the child’s sad predicament and instead focuses on the child’s self-agency and decision-making, providing readers a cause to feel invested in rather than a slog of sadness ... The narrator’s loneliest moments are relegated to key plot points and made more impactful when contrasted against the bright, lively descriptions of Italian food, festivals, and traditions. Readers will enjoy the scenes featuring traditional Neapolitan pizza, the pignatta, and the custom of a witch named Befana delivering candy to children on the Feast of the Epiphany ... a sympathetic, well-crafted novel filled with vacation-worthy sights and authentic experiences from an Italy that balances folk tradition with modernity. Readers will genuinely care about the children in this book and will feel deeply moved at the story’s resolution, when Amerigo must choose between his two families.
The novel jumps forward in time to Amerigo’s adulthood, which is when the novel shines. (Ardone writes adult Amerigo more convincingly than the 7-year-old boy) ... There are no easy answers and no heroes or villains. Ardone’s novel will appeal to fans of Elena Ferrante, but it stands on its own as a fictionalized account of an exceptional—and exceptionally complicated—social experiment.
Beautifully written in Amerigo’s first-person voice, this sometimes melancholy novel, translated from Italian, offers a deeply satisfying portrayal of the universality of love.
Ardone’s beautifully crafted story explores the meaning of identity and belonging, but readers may be disoriented by the break between the child Amerigo and the middle-aged man, a disruption that leaves one longing for more development to connect the two and an ending that is less rushed and unconvincing after the exquisitely slow and atmospheric buildup at the beginning ... Ardone’s first English-language translation is recommended to fans of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels and for libraries where those are popular.
In Clarissa Botsford’s translation from the Italian, the bleak but resilient life of the south is set in contrast to the simple yet almost foreign pleasures Amerigo discovers with his host family. It’s not just the delicious meals, the warm clothing, the regular schooling. It’s also the unguarded affection ... a wrenching postscript.
... moving ... tender ... The overall tone is somber, as the book is told from Amerigo’s perspective looking back on his life, but Ardone does introduce some lighter moments ... With a mix of stark realism and wistful reflection, Ardone succeeds in portraying the challenges of growing up under trying circumstances.
