Reading the descriptive passages of village life in Italy, I felt like I had returned to my small Portuguese town high up in the mountains complete with eccentric, wizened old timers. What a treat.

While I enjoyed what this book was trying to do, I can tell that not only was it written by a white guy, but it lacked a lot of substance. I read this for class, but at the end of the day I found it deeply misogynistic. Why would a 7 year-old constantly be describing the way his mother's breasts strain against her blouse while she's tending the garden? Or when his mother's friend is over, describe the "marble fat of her inner thigh"? Ricci is a man trying to write in the perspective of a 7 year-old boy, and fails miserably. Meanwhile, the boy's mother is trying to somewhat be a "feminist" by not caring what the village might think of her affair and pregnancy, but I hated the way she treated her son, and she was, bottomline, an unlikable character. Why to go for making the feminists unlikable! (she says sarcastically).
Other than that, I guess it accurately portrayed the time, and the little village in Italy, it's population dreaming of the day they'll all have enough money to move to America.
So I did not enjoy this. 2/5 stars.

An interesting read. I could believe this more if it was an older Vittorio telling the story of how he came to America when he was a young boy. The writing style made it difficult to believe the narrator was so young. Not sure if I will pick up the rest of the trilogy yet.