Greene on Capri by Shirley Hazzard
Here’s another one to skip! It will put you off the man and the island.
I’d previously read a few essays by Graham Greene and found them interesting enough, but he comes off as such a monumental jerk in this book, I can’t imagine wanting to read anything by him ever again.
As for Capri, thankfully, I’ve already been there a few times myself and so have my own impressions and memories. Went for some lovely walks, had delicious lemon ices (yum) and visited Tiberius’ villa — which I heartily recommend.
The reason I picked up this book is because I love Italy. The reason I kept this book even after I read and disliked it so much, was because of the cover painting. The rocks there have a very special look to them, which is partially due to the colouring (pinkish-grey-green rock any geologists out there that can explain what this means?) and the scrubby little bushes that cling on to nothing. The cover painting does a not-too-bad job of capturing it.
I really don’t know what all the fuss is about. Everyone seems to like and recommend this book. It’s not well written: the timeline is unclear, the dialogue is idealized and stagey, and Capri, although it’s in the title, receives only a passing mention — you certainly get no feeling for it whatsoever.
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