VILLA COCO

Part caper, part coming-of-age story, Greer’s latest comic examination of life entertains and edifies—not an easy balancing act.

Greer’s protagonist—referred to throughout by names other than his own—is a recently graduated American archivist given a chance to redeem his underwhelming academic performance when he becomes the “adjutant” to an elderly and acerbic Baronessa living in the Tuscan countryside. His short-term assignment is to catalog the contents of her rambling, unkempt home, Villa Coco. As he awaits permission to begin that job, he’s called upon to attend to the aging septic system, help trim the roses, and assist the Baronessa (and a cast of supporting characters) with a variety of sometimes mysterious tasks and missions. The Baronessa’s villa is enchanting and filled with art and artifacts; she seems to have led a charmed life but “our young man” (one of the narrator’s sobriquets) encounters what seems to be a curious lack of urgency on her part when it comes to inventorying the fabulous acquisitions of a lifetime. All is gradually revealed in Greer’s trademark style of observational humor, keen descriptions, and affectionate exposition of his characters’ foibles. As our young man negotiates his new life in Italy, complete with language challenges and romantic entanglements—including a farcical bedroom episode involving his gay paramour, that man’s wife, and her female lover—he begins to heed the lessons in life and love imparted to him by the Baronessa and her old friends. Cinematic possibilities appear throughout the novel: the lush surroundings of Villa Coco, the Baronessa’s tart observations, the transformation of the narrator’s wardrobe. Sadly, Maggie Smith is no longer available to do justice to the role of the Baronessa.

A delightful distraction from the mundane.