Seriously, this is like the best original fanfiction ever written. The only drawback was that I had to read it all in one sitting, because it was way too porny and intense to take in over Weetos or in the hairdresser's.
I think the adoring flail under this cut will forever ruin me in people's eyes: I will be exposed as the complete romantic teenage sap that I truly am. Oops.
I'm so totally seventeen in emotional years, because everything Elio did - from act the opposite to what he felt and expect Oliver to realise why to your basic immature emotional manipulation - resonated so bell-clear with me. I've managed to appreciate, now, that if you like someone you should probably, you know, act like it, but it was hard.
There are breathtakingly romantic quotes:
P.S. We are not written for one instrument only; I am not, neither are you.
You are my homecoming. When I'm with you and we're well together, there is nothing more I want. You make me like who I am, who I become when you're with me, Oliver.
I should learn to avoid him, sever each tie, one by one, as neurosurgeons do when they split one neuron from another, one thought-tormented wish from the next [...] wean myself a bit at a time each day, like an addict, one day, one hour, one minute, one slop-infested second after another.
I'm remembering a post someone made about wanting to cut the nerve that supplies the 'Iloveyou' part of the brain. Who was that again ...?
read stories of restless people who always end up alone because it's always themselves they can't stand being alone with.
This hurt so much.
People who read are hiders. They hide who they are. People who hide don't always like who they are.
Or, you know, never?
I'm not sure about the ending. (Or the nosebleeds and watching each other defecate, but I digress.) On one hand, I agree: it should be unhappy. On the other: MARRIAGE? And BEARDS? Who did Elio think he was, Spencer Smith? Overall, I think it would have suited the vague lyricism of the story if it ended with the summer romance, and we were left to forever speculate about what happened after.
Previously, on Book Glomp 2009:
He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope |The Bostonians, Henry James | For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway | For Esme - with Love and Squalor, JD Salinger | The Outsider, Albert Camus | The Princess Diaries: Ten out of Ten, Meg Cabot | The Vicar of Bullhampton, Anthony Trollope | Molesworth, Geoffrey Willans | Villette, Charlotte Bronte | The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James | The Way of All Flesh, Samuel Butler | Cecilia, Fanny Burney | The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger | The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Spark | Breakfast of Champions, Kurt Vonnegut | Valley of the Dolls, Jacqueline Susann | Siddhartha, Herman Hesse | The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga | The Duke and I, Julia Quinn | Brave New World, Aldous Huxley | North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell | Cider with Rosie, Laurie Lee | Catch-22, Joseph Heller | Bright Shiny Morning, James Frey | Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck | The Demon's Lexicon, Sarah Rees Brennan | The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton | jPod, Douglas Coupland | 'Are these my basoomas I see before me?', Louise Rennison | Faro's Daughter, Georgette Heyer | Anansi Boys, Neil Gaiman | The Accidental Sorcerer, K.E. Mills | Ethan of Athos, Lois McMaster Bujold | V., Thomas Pynchon | The Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway | The Dragon Keeper, Robin Hobb | Orlando, Virginia Woolf | The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath | Snuff, Chuck Palahniuk | Crush, Richard Siken | Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor, Max Pemberton | The Dice Man, Luke Rhinehart