... compelling, compact ... Carofiglio’s precise, economic language is insightful to the point that this poignant story’s setting is secondary, save for the unfamiliar sense that dodgy parts of Marseilles are not intended for tourists, and therefore, father and son have the impression they’re up against the secrets of this French, coastal town together ... profound in its simple delivery.
Despite the importance of these events, it is the conversations between son and father that are the real substance of this slender novel...Happily, their subsequent conversations are enlightening for both of them. Antonio tells the story in his own unadorned first-person voice from his perspective as a 51-year-old adult, a fact that adds wisdom to this absorbing novel of filial bonding.
... part of the novel’s gentle and understated drama is the distance that Antonio goes ... Even a non-verbal form of communication like instrumental music becomes a scaffolding for Carofiglio’s characters to express—in words—something about themselves and each other ... specific moments...furnish the story with deeply moving truths about time and memory ... Carofiglio’s drive for simplicity and directness in language carries the reader along to clarity about fundamental truths, including the ultimate challenge that we and our loved ones will all face in the end.
... poignant and moving ... The father and son’s odyssey through the gritty streets of Marseilles is laced with many memorable details ... Antonio’s catalog of intimate experiences, whether painful, pleasurable, or bittersweet, make for an enchanting coming-of-age tale.
This is a novel of a specific time and place that makes you sorry and even a little melancholy to leave that time and place behind ... In language plain and graceful, presented in a svelte translation from the Italian by Curtis, Carofiglio quietly lays their souls bare in allowing them to see each other as human beings for the first time ... Here those dark nights arrive with shimmering, unforced beauty, filling the pages with jagged moonlight like the finest neorealist film ... A journey by foot: crisp, lean, yet quietly mournful.
