Born into a family with controlling parents and a precocious brother at the center of their attention, our heroine Vero languishes in boredom in her childhood home. Vero's every venture outside their Rome apartment ends in her being unceremoniously returned home. It's no wonder that she becomes a writer - and a liar - inventing stories in a bid for her own sanity.
Veronica has a distinct voice and is very funny, even when addressing very unfunny things. Lurking under all this is Raimo’s fascinating contemplation of the interplay of identity and memory.
Raimo weaves together a series of nonlinear vignettes with a deft hand, connecting seemingly disparate moments through themes of longing, loneliness, identity, and, perhaps most profoundly, the concept of memory itself.
Despite the narrator’s evasiveness, a thrum of honesty bleeds through. With its stellar voice, Raimo’s inquisitive and vulnerable novel proves tough to put down.
