There are love stories, and then there’s Call Me by Your Name. André Aciman doesn’t just tell a tale of romance; he crafts a sensory, sun-drenched fever dream that lingers long after you’ve turned the last page—much like the taste of a perfectly ripe peach (yes, that peach). Aciman, an Egyptian-born writer and professor, is best known for his lyrical prose and deep explorations of memory, identity, and desire. His works often delve into themes of longing and nostalgia, drawing from his own experiences of exile and displacement.
The Setting: A Summer in Italy You’ll Never Forget
Set in the idyllic Italian Riviera in the 1980s, the novel follows 17-year-old Elio Perlman, a precocious, introspective boy who finds himself swept up in an all-consuming infatuation with Oliver, a charismatic, slightly aloof American scholar spending the summer at Elio’s family villa. Aciman’s Italy is intoxicating, brimming with sun-dappled afternoons, classical music, and midnight swims. It’s a world so beautifully rendered that you can almost taste the apricots and feel the summer heat pressing against your skin. This isn’t just a love story—it’s a masterclass in nostalgia, transporting readers to a time and place where every fleeting moment feels monumental.
The Characters: A Study in Longing
Elio, our lovestruck narrator, is an absolute mess in the best way possible. He overanalyzes, he obsesses, and he agonizes over every interaction with Oliver. And who among us hasn’t turned a single, fleeting moment into an existential crisis? If you haven’t, then congratulations on being well-adjusted. For the rest of us, Elio’s journey is painfully relatable.
Then there’s Oliver—cool, confident, and maddeningly unreadable. He’s the kind of person who says things like “Later!” and leaves you questioning your entire existence. He’s both a dream and a nightmare, which is precisely why Elio can’t resist him. Their love is intense, ephemeral, and laced with the kind of heartbreak that only a summer romance can bring.
The Writing: A Love Letter to Desire
Aciman’s prose is rich and indulgent, as if he’s challenging you to feel every stolen glance, every charged silence, and every aching moment of self-doubt. His writing dances between intellectual musings and gut-wrenching emotional depth, which might make you feel smarter but will definitely make you feel sadder. The novel doesn’t follow a traditional structure of rising action and climax—it’s more of a poetic unraveling, mirroring the way memory distorts time. It’s languid, evocative, and sometimes torturously slow, but that’s precisely what makes it so immersive. You don’t just read Call Me by Your Name—you sink into it.
The Themes: Love, Loss, and the Weight of Memory
Beyond its central romance, the book delves deep into the nature of desire, self-discovery, and the bittersweet sting of first love. It captures that rare, in-between moment in life where everything feels possible and yet terrifyingly temporary. Elio’s longing for Oliver is about more than just attraction—it’s about the aching need to be seen, to be understood, and to be consumed by something bigger than oneself.
At its heart, Call Me by Your Name is a story about time—the way it stretches and collapses, the way some moments become etched in our minds forever, and the way certain people, no matter how briefly they enter our lives, change us irrevocably.
The Ending: A Slow, Beautiful Heartbreak
And, of course, there’s that ending. If you thought you could get through this book without clutching your chest in despair, think again. Aciman doesn’t hand you a neatly wrapped resolution—he gives you longing, regret, and a final scene that will haunt you forever. The pain is exquisite, and you’ll thank him for it. The last few pages don’t just close a chapter—they leave an open wound that lingers, much like the memories of a love that never truly fades.
Final Thoughts: Should You Read It?
Should you read Call Me by Your Name? Absolutely. Should you emotionally prepare yourself first? Also yes. It’s a book that will wreck you in the most beautiful way possible, leaving you with a bittersweet ache and a desperate urge to book a one-way ticket to Italy. And isn’t that what all great love stories do?
