The Italian Wife by Kate Furnivall

Described by the author’s own website as “sweeping romance” this is most definitely not something you would normally catch me reading, nor is it a guilty pleasure in which I indulge if there’s no one looking (I reserve that honour solely for the old Point Horror series I loved as a teenager, but don’t tell anyone).

Lounging around on the deck after a sumptuous Christmas Dinner, I started to regret my decision not to bring a book with me on my visit to family on the South Island. My aunt announced she had two books with her that her own mother had pressed into her hands before she left the UK, and I died a little inside expecting a couple of Mills and Boon-esque swooning, flowery pink paperbacks. I was not disappointed as my aunt offered me a choice of two, in my view, soppy romances for middle-aged women (although not of the Grey variety, sadly). I deigned to choose what I thought to be the lesser of two evils.

Having never actually read anything of this genre, I don’t know if the setting of Mussolini’s Italy and choice of intelligent, educated female central character are typical fodder for this type of book. However, I found both concepts inspiring and intriguing. I’ve read a reasonable chunk of WWI and II literature and loved it so this element of the book, with its faint echoes of Captain Correlli’s Mandolin, helped me to warm to the story. I’m also a feminist in the modern sense and I liked the strong female lead, Isabella the architect.

The author’s depiction of some unpleasant events was gripping and real, and the romantic elements were not too saccharine for my taste. I enjoyed the development of Isabella’s character arc as she experiences the abuse, treachery and violence of the Fascist regime first-hand, having been a proud, self-declared Fascisti helping to build one of Italy’s new towns at the start of the book. Her love affair with Roberto, the government-employed town photographer, was fun to read and believable, and the other characters throughout the book were given enough depth to keep them interesting without distracting from the main romance. The initial plot device which sets the story in motion (the abandonment of a child and the mother’s apparent suicide) had me hooked and desperate to learn more.

Unexpected, enjoyable and satisfying, The Italian Wife is an agreeable way to spend a few lazy summer afternoons in the garden or on the beach. Will I read another ‘sweeping romance’? Probably not, but I’m glad I gave it a go.

Catalogue link: The Italian Wife

Posted by RJB