‘Villa Coco’ by Andrew Sean Greer

Villa Coco follows an American who travels to Italy to work as an archivist for an eccentric 92 year old baronessa at her sprawling residence. What follows draws him into the lives of the baronessa, her friends, staff and acquaintances, gradually revealing the history that binds them together.

For a while, I genuinely thought I might give up on this. It was slow to get going and, during the first part, I struggled to work out exactly what the novel wanted to be. It is divided into just three parts rather than chapters, which immediately gets my back up, although there are thankfully plenty of natural stopping points throughout. Still, I could not help wondering why these were not simply made into chapters in the first place.

The baronessa is undoubtedly the star of the story. I found myself looking forward to every appearance she made, and her eccentricity and personality bring some much needed life to the novel. Giovedì, or Geoffrey, is a likeable enough protagonist, while the collection of supporting characters surrounding him and the baronessa are equally enjoyable company.

In many ways, this is a love story, although not necessarily in the most obvious sense. There is Giovedì’s own romantic interest, the baronessa and her enduring relationship with Oscar, but also what feels like a broader love letter to Italy itself.

Greer’s writing can feel quite weighty at times, which probably contributed to my difficulty getting into the novel, but he does a wonderful job of creating a sense of place. Villa Coco itself feels vivid and tangible, as does the Italy surrounding it. There is a richness to the setting that makes it easy to picture the villa, its inhabitants and the world they occupy.

In many ways, this is a love story, although not necessarily in the most obvious sense. There is Giovedì’s own romantic interest, the baronessa and her enduring relationship with Oscar, but also what feels like a broader love letter to Italy itself. Love, memory and the way people remain present in our lives long after they are gone seem to quietly underpin much of the novel.

I did feel as though the story was steadily building towards some grand revelation, and when it finally arrived it did not have quite the impact I had anticipated. Strangely, though, I was not particularly disappointed by that. Oscar’s presence throughout the novel, despite him not featuring heavily himself, ultimately becomes an effective way of circling the story back to Giovedì. Where that thread eventually leads is unexpectedly touching.

Despite seriously considering giving up before I had even finished the first part, I am glad I stuck with Villa Coco. Somewhere around the middle of the second part, the story seemed to find its rhythm and I found myself far more invested in its characters and their histories. It may have taken its time getting there, but by the end I was pleased I had stayed at Villa Coco.