Roman Year

a memoir by Andre Aciman

Written by:
Lewis Whittington
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André Aciman’s ‘Out of Egypt’ made his reputation when it was published in 1995 and he followed it up with a slate of critically acclaimed nonfiction and fiction titles, his most famous being ‘Call Me By Your Name’ which was made into a hit movie, directed by  Luca Guadagnino, with screenplay by filmmaker James Ivory. As admirable as the film is, it doesn’t really convey the richness of Aciman’s prose.
‘Roman Year’ picks up where his first book left off  and is signature Aciman-  vivid, lyrical, wry, and casually obsessive- a journeying coming of age tale that chronicles his family’s expulsion from Egypt in the 60s.

Aciman’s family was uprooted during Gabal Nasser’s communist government. With tensions between Egypt and Israel heating up, Jews were being kicked out of the country, their property and assets seized. Andre, at 16, along with his younger brother, wanted to continue their education at a British school in Alexandria, but that was not to be. Andre’s parents were separated, so mother and sons’ visas to Italy were  paid for by their wealthy Uncle Claude. Their father  was still being detained in an Egyptian work camp waiting to be deported.

The father’s plans were to join them in Rome briefly and emigrate to France or the US, under the sponsorship of their mother’s sister and brother in law, living in New York.  In Rome, the mother and two boys were essentially living in a run down neighborhood in a shabby flat owned by the uncle, who itemized every cent he had advanced them for travel and living expenses and otherwise humiliated them at every turn. The uncle wanted his nephews to stay in Italy and become engineers. But when he tried to arranged to get them on that track, Andre’s mother anticipated his every twist and scheming turn.

Aciman doesn’t hold back on family secrets and heated dramas, it can be soap opera-y, but their intimate stories are set against divergent cultures and political realities. Their world weary, wise Aunt Flora, who also lost her position and wealth in Egypt, is also now a struggling Jewish exile in Italy, trying to rebuild her life.


Their father wrote them that Claude had a good heart, however meddlesome his behavior. They also eventually surmised that before they moved in, the flat was a hideaway bordello run by the uncle. As horrified as they were to discover this, Andre fantasized about the women who had once occupied his bed

Aciman chronicles his initial disdain for Rome and his difficulty adjusting to being an immigrant whose life was upended. André spent most of his time reading. In contrast, his younger brother was out and about, playing sports and making new friends and always ribbing Andre for ‘romanticizing’ reality. The brothers continued to be very close, knew each other inside and out and always had each other’s back.
Andre’s created his own private world and was determined to reject any notion of staying in Italy. He escaped in the pages Dostoyevsky, Joyce, Kafka, Stendahl, Lawrence, Baudelaire, and Woolf to relate and escape.


Recalling those days he writes “I was reading the books not so much to educate myself…. I was encountering in the very books meant to shield me from myself versions of people who were none other than myself. People who shame those fears, whose sense of irony….” He concludes,  “None came from a dying city like Alexandria. None had a deaf mother. None was Jewish. None that was a stranded as I felt.”   


Andre’s relatives were descended from Sephardic Jews, originally from Spain, but were forced into exile and over generations had roots in Greece, Turkey, France, and many in Egypt when it was under British rule. The Aciman family built lives and businesses there, but as tensions mounted between Egypt and Israel the family’s property was seized and Andre’s family, like so many, was  ruined.


A reunion with their father turns out to be for the single purpose of figuring out  where the sons would live permanently. His Egyptian fine-fabric dyer and designer closed, he now was a transit employee in Paris, while deciding where to emigrate and start again. His father chose France, where he secured a job.


When they visited  their mother’s relatives in Paris, Andre immediately knew that he had landed where he was meant to be. Like his mother, he spoke the language. Within hours of drinking in the city, he imagined he was now living in Jacque Demy’s French masterpiece “les Parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg)” which he had seen just weeks before in Italy, and previously in Egypt.

His chapter ‘C’est un Blonde’ is one of the memoir’s most enchanting interludes. Aciman’s  first taste of youthful freedom as he reluctantly adjusts to life in Italy, dreams of being in Paris haunting ‘Shakespeare and Co.’ bookstore and exploring his sexuality. There are inferences of bisexuality, after being squeezed in next to a man on the Metro, but no revelations.


Meanwhile, his father was now working in Paris and during Andre’s visit with him they re-bonded over their love of books and cinema and a renewed father son intimacy. His dad  revealing a much different side, less angry and aggressive personality as a single man. They share a passion for books and films.
Acimen’s observations about his parents’ turbulent marriage and boorish relatives, especially Claude, give way to a lot of rehashing of old scores and quotes verbatim speeches between battling family members that occurred in the 60s. Aside from having an amazing memory, this strikes as personal venting and start to cloy.


In his last chapter, he recounts returning to Rome with his wife and sons in which he gives them a PG version of his youth It reads like a time- traveling fever-dream loop. But mostly, Aciman proves a master storyteller, his vivid remembrance of his past – the good, the bad, the lusty- even the mundane family lore.

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