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| The Story of My Purity by Francesco Pacifico – review | The Story of My Purity by Francesco Pacifico – review |
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| Imagine Holden Caulfield, 20 years on. Imagine him married, Italian, living in a suburb of Rome, and you have Piero Rosini, the narrator of Francesco Pacifico's novel The Story of My Purity, the first of his books to appear in English. Pacifico works as a translator of American literature and it's not difficult to guess who his favourite authors are. Mixed in with the bewilderment and disaffection of The Catcher in the Rye is a generous helping of breasts and onanism (step forward, encomiast of the bust, Philip Roth). | Imagine Holden Caulfield, 20 years on. Imagine him married, Italian, living in a suburb of Rome, and you have Piero Rosini, the narrator of Francesco Pacifico's novel The Story of My Purity, the first of his books to appear in English. Pacifico works as a translator of American literature and it's not difficult to guess who his favourite authors are. Mixed in with the bewilderment and disaffection of The Catcher in the Rye is a generous helping of breasts and onanism (step forward, encomiast of the bust, Philip Roth). |
| Pacifico's protagonist works at a far‑right Catholic publishing house in Rome, Non Possumus, and he's not a happy bunny. "I was totally committed, in my own way, to becoming a saint," Rosini confides. Unsurprisingly, there are many obstacles. His main problem, apart from his general dissatisfaction with the progress of his life (he lives opposite an Ikea store), is that he is tormented by incessant thoughts about the pulchritudinous breasts of his virginal sister-in-law, Ada (a nod to Nabokov?). Rosini is horrified by the glimpse of the middle-class, middle-aged hell he is in the process of entering. | Pacifico's protagonist works at a far‑right Catholic publishing house in Rome, Non Possumus, and he's not a happy bunny. "I was totally committed, in my own way, to becoming a saint," Rosini confides. Unsurprisingly, there are many obstacles. His main problem, apart from his general dissatisfaction with the progress of his life (he lives opposite an Ikea store), is that he is tormented by incessant thoughts about the pulchritudinous breasts of his virginal sister-in-law, Ada (a nod to Nabokov?). Rosini is horrified by the glimpse of the middle-class, middle-aged hell he is in the process of entering. |
| One wonders what Pacifico had in mind when he sat down to write this novel. The opening chapters, dealing with Rosini editing a book revealing that Pope John Paul had Jewish family roots, and that there is a Jewish conspiracy at work to undermine civilisation, are presumably meant to be humorous. But there isn't much incongruity and conflict in a devout Catholic working for a devoutly Catholic organisation. That's not how comedy functions. A Jewish atheist, a gay satanist or a Muslim suicide bomber correcting copy for hardline Catholics, now … And so what if John Paul II was as circumcised as the chief rabbi? What, like Saint Paul? Or Saint Peter? Or Jesus himself? | One wonders what Pacifico had in mind when he sat down to write this novel. The opening chapters, dealing with Rosini editing a book revealing that Pope John Paul had Jewish family roots, and that there is a Jewish conspiracy at work to undermine civilisation, are presumably meant to be humorous. But there isn't much incongruity and conflict in a devout Catholic working for a devoutly Catholic organisation. That's not how comedy functions. A Jewish atheist, a gay satanist or a Muslim suicide bomber correcting copy for hardline Catholics, now … And so what if John Paul II was as circumcised as the chief rabbi? What, like Saint Paul? Or Saint Peter? Or Jesus himself? |
| It could be that Pacifico's Italian has a luminosity that hasn't crossed over in translation, but in terms of content, the book doesn't amount to much. There is an attempt at a sort of existential cri de coeur when Rosini moves to Paris to work for another Catholic publishing house. He hangs out in clubs and meets slackers 'n' stoners (cue shades of Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney) but doesn't actually fornicate much since he's clinging on to his Catholicism. It's the Hampstead adultery novel without the hiding of the salami. "She likes you, you live together … I don't understand why you haven't fucked her yet," remonstrates one of the characters to Rosini, and I'm with her 100%. | It could be that Pacifico's Italian has a luminosity that hasn't crossed over in translation, but in terms of content, the book doesn't amount to much. There is an attempt at a sort of existential cri de coeur when Rosini moves to Paris to work for another Catholic publishing house. He hangs out in clubs and meets slackers 'n' stoners (cue shades of Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney) but doesn't actually fornicate much since he's clinging on to his Catholicism. It's the Hampstead adultery novel without the hiding of the salami. "She likes you, you live together … I don't understand why you haven't fucked her yet," remonstrates one of the characters to Rosini, and I'm with her 100%. |
| Rosini has an affable voice, and a novel doesn't need much action to be powerful, but if you're writing an introspective book, it's wise to keep it succinct. Rosini never goes anywhere in Rome or Paris without telling us about the facilities, shops, cafes, monuments, adjoining streets. Fifty pages fewer would have made The Story of My Purity a punchier read. | Rosini has an affable voice, and a novel doesn't need much action to be powerful, but if you're writing an introspective book, it's wise to keep it succinct. Rosini never goes anywhere in Rome or Paris without telling us about the facilities, shops, cafes, monuments, adjoining streets. Fifty pages fewer would have made The Story of My Purity a punchier read. |
| The publicity material that accompanies a review copy is usually written by work-experience school leavers, so it's customary to put it straight in the bin, but the heap of endorsements collected here was a bracing reminder of how such effusions bear no actual relation to the book. When Gary Shteyngart writes "the novel fell on my head like a bowling ball and knocked me the hell out", I sincerely hope he is giving us an account of a book falling from a high shelf and causing concussion. | The publicity material that accompanies a review copy is usually written by work-experience school leavers, so it's customary to put it straight in the bin, but the heap of endorsements collected here was a bracing reminder of how such effusions bear no actual relation to the book. When Gary Shteyngart writes "the novel fell on my head like a bowling ball and knocked me the hell out", I sincerely hope he is giving us an account of a book falling from a high shelf and causing concussion. |
| Pacifico has talent (his frothing ire over the shortcomings of Ryanair is a delight), and it's not his fault that nonsense has been written about his book, but if it was meant as a comedy, or to be comic in parts, it's not; and if you want a serious consideration of hairshirt Catholicism, Graham Greene and David Lodge have done it better. Towards the end, Rosini's sister surveys the manuscript of struggling novelist and secondary character Corrado, and comments, "No, there's no novel here." Amen. | Pacifico has talent (his frothing ire over the shortcomings of Ryanair is a delight), and it's not his fault that nonsense has been written about his book, but if it was meant as a comedy, or to be comic in parts, it's not; and if you want a serious consideration of hairshirt Catholicism, Graham Greene and David Lodge have done it better. Towards the end, Rosini's sister surveys the manuscript of struggling novelist and secondary character Corrado, and comments, "No, there's no novel here." Amen. |
| • Tibor Fischer's Good to Be God is published by Alma. | • Tibor Fischer's Good to Be God is published by Alma. |
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