Thumbs up for Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman. Literature.
An internal tale of first love–that sounds tedious, doesn’t it? Kudos to Aciman that he gets you into Elio’s head so quickly and absolutely that you can’t even protest: No, I don’t care about your cliched troubles, kid. Every emotion and turn of the heart is so precisely observed that the book makes its own complete, mesmerizing reality, essentially immune to criticism. I am not so much a cynic that I will try.
A more canny observer, however, would have considered it a lead-in to an entirely different truth: push open the door at your own peril–believe me, you don’t want to hear this. Maybe you should go away now, while there’s still time.
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