Ever since his initial annals of the Jewish community of Gulders Green, Glanville's novels have been shorter and sketchier and this one, like his last (A Second Home-1966) is told in the first person, feminine persona of Barbara, an English girl of some wayward and willful independence. She marries, in Rome, Claudio, and from areas of vague incompatibility (politics, Catholicism, women working) they proceed to those of daily irritability (her past, ""living in a catacomb""--his mother's apartment, and especially his mother--""la mamma. A great Italian institution."") Perhaps because Barbara is so undefined it doesn't seem very important whether they work it out or not. To read, it is experienced, personable, Facile as a book, it's no more than an antipasto.