i often find myself enjoying literature from italy but this book was just a big ‘ok’ for me me, which pains me! the premise was good but the ending felt flat to me. it may be 5 stars for others, of that i am sure!

This is a well written book. It has some fine lines, a few well-conceived set pieces, a fair share of perceptive and insightful observations, and occasionally a lean and edgy narrative drive.. That said, try as I might I found neither the characters, nor their situations, nor the overall narrative engaging enough to arouse or hold my curiosity and attention. As a consequence, it doesn't seem fair to write much more of a review, apart from encouraging inquisitive readers to give the book a try.

Way more fun and funny than I was expecting, with such kooky characters. Desperate for more translations from this author.

A bit painful to get through.

I'm sure there are some people who will LOVE this title but I couldn't.

I did however, love the opportunity to read italian literature.

Engaging and entertaining. A recommended purchase for collections where literary fiction is popular.

Meet Veronica, or rather Verika as her mother insists on calling her, a precocious child from a quirky family that will make Augusten Burroughs’ household seem ordinary. A household where there was always noise, whether it was never a moment of silence, whether it was a tv blaring, a vacuum cleaner, drill, hair dryer or circular saw. Not even the night was quiet. In this family everyone was a big snorer.

Full review: https://westwordsreviews.wordpress.com/2023/07/22/lost-on-me-veronica-raimo/

A exploration of what it means to be a woman, living her life on her own terms. Vero grew up in a household with very overbearing and overly involved parents. Vero shows us many many events throughout her life that shaped her. From boys, to school, friends, sex, and how writing helped her sort through all of her experiences.

I really really wanted to love this, but it did not hit for me. The vignette style did not work for me in this one. I constantly felt lost as to what point of her life we were in. It felt disjointed and I had trouble connecting and relating to Vero in any way.

Published in Italy in 2022; published in translation by Grove Press, Black Cat on June 27, 2023

Dysfunctional families can be charming, at least in Rome. As children, Verika and her more intelligent brother were rarely allowed to interact with a world that their protective parents regarded as far too dangerous. They devised meaningless games to escape boredom, games at which Verika invariably but pointlessly cheated. From this, Verika learned a life lesson. “Whenever I feel like I’m trapped in a room, in a game with rules, rather than try to escape from it I try to taint the logic of the room, of the rules.” She invents her own reality. Perhaps this reality invention makes Verika an unreliable narrator as she tells the reader her life story.

Both parents are strange. Verika’s father often says, “We have reached the height of paradox.” He loves to build walls, not just metaphorically. He has created multiple small rooms in their small apartment, cutting windows in half and making the bidet inaccessible. He wraps Verika in paper towels as a protection against perspiration, which he regards as the source of dangerous illnesses. Verika smells bad because her father thinks a good scrub with paper towels and alcohol is preferable to bathing.

Verika’s mother is convinced that her children are in danger and bombards them with calls when they are not in her presence. When Verika enters the world to attend school, her mother or father drives her or her brother walks with her, but their protectiveness cannot shelter her from the experience of life. Verika’s mother is horrified when Verika learns about the male appendage from a flasher who was lurking outside the school. When her mother tells her teacher “the girl believes she’s seen a wiener,” her classmates pass her sketches “that looked nothing at all like my vision of the reddish protuberance, which turned out to be reassuring.”

Yet for all their protectiveness, Verika’s parents are willing to let her visit a grandfather and sleep in his bed well beyond the age when a girl should be sharing a bed with an adult male relative. It isn’t clear that anything inappropriate happens, but it also isn’t clear whether Verika would recognize any activity as inappropriate, given her limited frame of reference.

Verika loses her fear of wieners when she learns that a girl can hold one in her hand (she finds one unexpectedly in her grasp while riding on a crowded tram and politely returns it to its owner). When she reaches her late teens, Verika has more experience with wieners but is less certain whether the things she’s done with them constitute sex. Those things seem to have been consensual, but Verika is lost in a world of her own, making it difficult to know whether she is suppressing the truth.

Lost on Me is Verika’s look back at her life. Verika tells her story factually (although not linearly), leaving it to the reader to deduce how the strange way in which was raised might have had an impact on her present. For the most part, Verika’s memories are amusing. To the extent they might be disturbing, Verika simply chooses not to be troubled by them. Her discussion of an abortion, for example, is unemotional. It’s just another thing that happened in her life.

As a young adult, Verika makes a number of discoveries in rapid order — about touch, about sex, about infidelity, about Berlin — although her narrative cuts those events into slices that she serves out of order. She is later astonished to learn how men can be so generous while asking so little in return — asking, that is, for something that means so little to her. She has boyfriends but she isn’t relationship material. She travels to Mexico with a female friend (where she is inevitably bombarded by calls from her mother) and later considers (without emotion) how that friendship just drifted away. The friend is easily replaced by Amory Blain, the main character in This Side of Paradise.

In the present, Verika and her brother are authors. Verika writes books when she’s staying with people in Berlin. Lost on Me is her latest. Because Verika is honest about her dishonesty, it is difficult to know when her narrative is meant to be reliable or even whether that matters. She describes a 14-year relationship with A, yet none of her friends seem aware of A’s existence, perhaps because A changes bodies. Is he any more real than Amory Blain? Verika’s mother sends texts to A on his own phone, so it’s hard to know. Maybe Verika is lying about the phone.

Verika describes her father’s death, her mother’s loneliness (reported in telephone calls ten times a day), her dismal efforts to conquer insomnia with pills and masturbation. She claims a fear of physical contact yet feels a need to watch others touching each other. She tells people vague stories about friends unseen for the last two years who have two-year old children. Two years seems a sensible distance and age when she has no clue about the true number.

One of the novel’s most interesting themes is the malleability of memory. Verika is untrustworthy not just because she tells deliberate lies but because her memories are hazy. They “change in the process of forming.” That’s true of all memory. Two witnesses will remember the same event in very different ways because that’s how memory works (or doesn’t work). Lost on Me is impressive in its honesty, even if the reader might not know what to believe, because Verika understands more than most of us that having a memory doesn’t mean the memory is true.

Identity (more precisely, Verika’s lack of identity) is another key theme. Verika claims she is regularly mistaken for a male, perhaps because she often wears male clothing. She is convinced that others do not recognize her, but perhaps they are strangers who have never seen her before. Even her grandfather always photographed her facing away from the camera, taking pictures of a back that could belong to anyone. At times, her mother sees somehttps://www.netgalley.com/member/book/276579/review#one else in a photo and believes it to be Verika. She has felt, at every moment of her life: “Oh whatever. Let’s just say this is me.”

The “fullest expression” of Verika’s identity is the manipulation of truth “as though it were an exercise in style.” She claims to keep a “glimmer of truth” inside her but confesses that she often forgets it or conflates it with the lie.

Lost on Me, with its ambiguous truths and confusions of reality, comes across as an exercise in style. While it seems to be narrated as a stream of consciousness, its loose structure belies its careful construction. Veronica Raimo ends the novel by confessing that she writes “things that are ambiguous, frustrating.” She also says she’s “fine with that.” Readers who are not fine with ambiguity should probably look for a more concrete story. While Lost on Me can be frustrating, it is also an intriguing exploration of the often illusory distinction between truth and fantasy.

RECOMMENDED

I really loved this book! The writing is very witty and hilariously dark. This helped me get out of a reading slump, cannot recommend enough!

Unbelievably tedious. Supposedly a quirky autobiography, but in fact a plotless litany of weird and not especially interesting family dynamics and physical tics. Her constipation, her relentless mother, her smarter brother, her obsessive father, an uncle who flashes, and so on. No thanks. Lost on me too.

This is a short, sweeping, auto-fiction novel. It reminded me a little of Elena Ferrante's 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚜, but I think I love Raimo's writing more. She easily encapsulates the common themes of sex, love and family with real wit. This is a laugh out loud, heartfelt and rather poignant coming-of-age story by award winning Italian writer, Veronica Raimo.

I enjoyed her dry sense of humour, her observations of the people in her life and how she reconciles memory and lies to relate vignettes from her childhood to adulthood, to becoming a writer.

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛-𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚕. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝟹 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚍-𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜.

And her poor, neurotic mother!! I felt Raimo was channeling my daughters and sending me a message to ease up on the 'checking in' text messages and just chill. They are busy living life!

Thanks to #netgalley and @groveatlantic for the e-ARC in return for an honest review.

4.5⭐️

Lost on Me feels like a memoir, but it's classified as fiction. Through most of the book, I kept expecting things to come together, for the narrator to have some grand epiphany or change, or for anything, really, to happen. Then I finished the book and thought, "What did I just read?" I'm still confounded by it.

Then I realized, maybe that is the point?

Either way, I found this book interesting enough to keep me reading. Parts of it felt raw and confessional while other parts felt just plain odd. Since it is a translation, there were a few things I had to look up in order to understand nuances of meaning, but that didn't trip me up as much as feeling like I wasn't sure what was happening or where the book was trying to go.

But with a title like Lost on Me, I'm thinking that could be the author's point. That sometimes in life, we're all a little lost. We're all just trying to figure things out. And sometimes there are things we'll never figure out.

If that's not the point, then this book was lost on me.

I was so excited by this book after seeing all the hype around it but unfortunately it fell flat for me. I stuck with it because I usually love plotless, stream-of-consciousness type prose however at times the writing style took me out of the book as we took so many tangents that I found myself skim reading at some points.

The highlights for me were the sarcastic humour and complex relationship between mother & daughter. Overall not a terrible book, but not particularly memorable.

* Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with a copy of this book for review, all opinions are my own*

2.5 stars

I thought I would like this book more but unfortunately, I didn't like it that much.
It was even a quick read and involved me a lot, the author's writing is easy to read and quite captivating, I don't regret the reading experience but I wish I had liked the story more!

This was interesting in many ways, infused with a sort of absurdist realism that I enjoyed. The book particularly shines in the dry depiction of the neurotic, eccentric parents. Ultimately, though, it felt too aloof for my tastes, too slippery, too meandering. I can get behind plotless fiction, but there was so little narrative thrust here! I don’t know what it is with me and autofiction - it’s not a concept I’m against, but in practice it never quite seems to come together for me.

An Italian version of the trope of a sarcastic young woman looking at her dysfunctional family and trying to find her way. What parts of this are true and which are fiction? It was never clear to me where to draw the line or if that mattered. I did not get Fleabag vibes from this and it never really took off for me. That said, indeed those who enjoy Ferrante should give it a try. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. For fans of literary fiction.

If I am being completely honest. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this book. I believe this is an auto fiction. Personally, It just reads to me as someone who is really bored with their life. I loved the chance to read it and at first I was really into it but the second it hit the middle mark I felt as if this was extremely dull. I don't quite see the comparisons with Fleabag. I didn't find it humorous. But, I will say it does mention some great topics of family, grief, sex, abortions, relationships, and your own wants and needs in life. I just felt as if this was written no emotion and the author was just stating many facts. There wasn't much to follow, the chapters felt kind of all over the place, which made it very hard for me to remain engaged. I feel like if someone is into "Catcher in the Rye" they might enjoy this, but I don't even like that book.

This is about Veronika who grew up poor in Rome with her family. I couldn't tell you much more.
The reason I gave this 3 stars is because I really do like the cover (yeah yeah, I judged a book by its cover). Also, there was some good content in here it just didn't completely captivate me.

Lost on Me was a great read, a mix of sarcasm and dysfunction. I appreciated the stream of thought, no clear chunks of the book. I liked reading more from the author's perspective, but I am curious how much was told was actually "true."

DNF at 30%.

I feel like the best way to describe this novel is that it is almost like an honest and at times sarcastic journal written by a friend with a very interesting life - or maybe it’s better described as a brain dump? No chapters, just letting the story go. Like sitting down with a friend as they tell you their life story. Of what I read, it was good, enjoyable, at some points harrowing, and even sometimes relatable. It was a journey unlike any other I’ve read in the past.

Although I’ll sit here and tell you I really enjoyed it, at the same time I’m not being honest with you. I didn’t read this in one sitting. In fact, I read about 30%, put it down for the night, and never felt inclined to pick it back up. Was it engaging? Yes, but only while I was initially reading it. Did anything draw me back to the book? No.

Raimo does a beautiful job at intersecting sarcasm with reality, and I mean no ill will towards the story. I fear that I simply picked this up at the wrong time and in essence didn’t do the story justice. Perhaps I’ll return to this review and amend my statements if I pick this back up in the future. But for now, from what I did read, I will recommend this to anyone who likes a satirical, slice-of-life, coming of age story.

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for the complimentary e-arc in exchange for an honest review. All opinions in this review are my own.

Fiction, autofiction or memoir, Veronica Raimo’s latest book, translated form the Italian, is an unusual take on family life – in this case a neurotic and dysfunctional family. Her parents’ anxieties prevent Veronica and her brother having a regular childhood and increasingly they look inwards to combat the boredom of rarely being allowed out in the wider world. Not surprisingly they both become novelists, novels in which Veronica channels her childhood experiences. The Italian title Niente di Vero, Nothing True, is a far better title and gives a more accurate idea of what the book is about, as we never truly know to what extent Veronica’s experiences are based on reality. It’s a short book, non-linear, more a series of vignettes than a sustained narrative, and rattles along at a good pace. Set in Rome from the 1980s to the 2000s, we accompany Veronica as she comes of age against the background of her eccentric childhood. Overall I enjoyed the book, although I never truly connected to Veronica who always seemed just out of reach. It’s a story of family dynamics, guilt, control and adapting to an often alien world attempting to forge a new reality out of the fragments of the past.