KATE CATERINA

British-born, Italian-resident Rivière's fifth novel, his American debut, offers an unconventional chronicle of a young Englishwoman's experiences during WWII.

A disjointed and distancing narrative slips from third- to first-person stream-of-consciousness and then back again, offering less a standard story than a collection of haphazard snapshots of events. Though the ensuing course is often muddled, the initial premise is simple enough: Kate Fenn, a pretty Londoner living with her left-wing Italian husband Gabriele D’Alessandria in their Tuscan villa, survives the emotional trials of war. The story begins with the marriage, in 1940, of Kate’s glamorous sister-in-law Esmeralda to a high-ranking fascist. Kate Caterina (the name is a union of her old English self with her new Italian life) has both a brother and a brother-in-law called up to fight, of course on opposing sides, and soon after Esmeralda's marriage Gabriele is arrested as a political dissident. Kate Caterina has no dilemma over divided national loyalties: she loves her family and wants them all home unharmed, and anyway she leaves all of that political mumbo-jumbo to the men. During the war years she attempts to win Gabriele's release by hobnobbing with officials in the Mussolini government (thanks to Esmeralda), guiltily admitting that she enjoys the luxury of evenings out. Kate Caterina’s duplicity, Esmeralda's desperate hedonism, Gabriele's selfish integrity, and his father's cynicism—all combine to create a decided distaste for this unpleasant cast of people. Moreover, Rivière's narrative, which alternates between a dry recitation of events and the idiosyncratic ramblings of the character's minds, leaves the reader with a highly impressionistic view of the story, something akin to watching newsreels without the sound. At the close, one is left with a spectral sensation, though it’s a bit of work to achieve such a flighty thing.

A promising premise and narrative style fail to create a resounding work.