The Woman of Rome by Alberto Moravia is a beautiful, rich book. It's like you read and you read and you read, and then suddenly a book comes along and it makes you slow down and really think. It makes you ponder the human condition. Who we are. Why we're here. What we can do about it. The Woman of Rome is just such a book.It's an existential-type novel that was popular back in the day of Sartre and Camus. Moravia is Italian, and he is writing against the backdrop of Mussolini's fascist regime. I must admit there is a tone of the existentialist's at-times bleak world view. (Think The Stranger.) But Moravia is a brilliant, insightful writer and his insights into life and love manage to counterbalance the negativity.The main story line revolves around a simple Roman woman named Adriana who only aspires to a life of familial contentment. But her beauty is a magnet, drawing men of all sorts, one a painter, who the girl agrees to model naked for, who ultimately leads her into a life of prostitution. Throughout the book men come in and out of Adriana's life, some attempting to help her, others intent on dragging her down. Ironically enough, despite the book's seeming nastiness, there is much to amaze and edify here.I think in many ways the book is an exploration of romantic love, albeit under very desperate circumstances. Moravia writes:"When people are in love their minds never work properly."Ain't it the truth?He writes of angst and loneliness:"In reality my heart was full to the brim with affection—then as always—an affection that for lack of legitimate objects I poured out even on unworthy things and people, rather than leave it unused and unwanted."I found myself making notes in the margins like, "Me and Joanne." As if Moravia had explained perfectly what had been happening in several of my relationships. Consider this exchange:He began to laugh. "Our relationship, at least as far as I'm concerned, isn't based on pleasure!""On what, then?"He hesitated. "On your desire to love me," he then replied, "and on my weakness in the face of this desire..."There's even a passage many Goodreads people may identify with:...I had always thought that love, not literature, was the most favorable condition in which the human soul could blossom. Apparently in Mino's case the opposite was true; certainly I never, not even in his rare moments of affection, saw such enthusiasm and candor in his face as there was when, raising his voice in curiously hollow tones or lowering it in a conversational way, he read me passages from his favorite authors.Come on now, fess up. Who's done it? (I know I have.)But, as mentioned previously, this book is somewhat heavy in tone. Let's put it this way: you won't be humming the "clap along" song after you're done reading it. But if you want some seriously engaging reading, some reading providing sharp insights into love and life, The Woman of Rome is for you.Have a little spare time? I've free flash fiction (all stories under 1K) at my website greggbell.net
Leggere Moravia ,per me, è come seguire una linea dritta e chiara.La sua prosa è misurata ed egli ci prende per mano accompagnandoci lungo il racconto,con calma e pacatezza.Da maestro paziente ci fa notare tutti i particolari,ci descrive con tale accuratezza gli ambienti che è come se ci fossimo dentro,e dei personaggi esalta con così tanta maestria carattere e particolari fisici da farceli immaginare come fossero davanti a noi,pronti a chiederci qualcosa.Di loro ci descrive e spiega chiaramente motivazioni e pensieri,con i suoi modi un pò freddi e distaccati ma pieni di lirismo.In questo caso in particolare l'effetto è accentuato dal fatto che il romanzo è scritto in prima persona e noi ci ritroviamo a seguire la protagonista dal di dentro,passo passo,lungo tutta la sua evoluzione sentimentale e psicologica,capendo perfettamente (anche se magari non le condividiamo in alcun modo)le motivazioni che la conducono lungo il percorso di vita che essa sceglie.Per l'ennesima volta:leggiamo Moravia.
What do You think about The Woman Of Rome (1999)?
I probably read this at an age that was too young. I was probably twelve years old on a sweltering summer in chicago. Actually i was working during the day (yes i know you cant work untill youre sixteen) and staying awake during the night to read this book because it was too hot to sleep (the days before central-air). So for me this was a real punch in the stomach. I cant say i really identified with the characters but....? I mean coming from a poor family, never thinking anything but work. And suddenly reading about someplace OTHER. And seeing that they also know the daily violence of work, family, talking, etc. Small rooms and no desires other than food.Before this book europe was a utopia. Now i know its also sweating in the night with a book in a small room waiting.
—Michael sinkofcabbages
One of the best novels that I have read in my life.... and one of those that once started you cannot put down, you just have to make trough all the 500 or how many pages no matter what. Such a sad, brutally honest and beautiful prose, I just loved it...I think what I liked most about The Woman of Rome is a certain sense of doom...an atmosphere of darkness, filled with restrictions, a suggestions of how tragic life really is and how the horrors of it are not easily avoided. In fact, it is questionable can they be avoided at all. We're all in many ways trapped by the society we found ourselves in...and tied by strings that we cannot ever completely free ourselves from...that is what I've gathered from it anyway. In any case, it really is quite a book.Brilliant characterization...I just cannot believe how good this writer is at getting inside a women's head...particularly the protagonist, she seems as natural as any character can seem natural. Having read a few novels with a similar theme (yes the story of prostitute with a golden heart is definitely a common one) one would think that I would have been tired of it. This subject may have been overused...but in this case...even if you're tired of such stories, make an exception for this really is an exceptional novel.
—Ivana
I didn't find this easy to start with. It is a dense first-person narrative full of jarringly ingenuous, faux-naive statements such about the narrator's own beauty and attractiveness (though the irritation this style caused may have been due to the translation from Italian, or the dated language and colloquial dialogue of 1940s Rome). For all the convoluted analysis of her own emotions as she has to put aside her dreams of marriage and turn to prostitution, Adriana remains strangely one-dimensional and unsympathetic despite her harrowing experiences. And although the novel was written in the 1940s and set in the 1930s, there is very little description of what Rome was like under the Fascist dictatorship, even when a politically-engaged character is introduced - this is justified by the protagonist's protested disinterest in politics but it would have been much more interesting to the reader to have this wider context and sense of danger or repression. The narrative moves at a sluggish pace, right until the last few chapters in which a dramatic 'film noir' style denouement finally brought real excitement and effectively vindicated the novel.
—Kitty
