Okay, so I want to start by addressing the big question: where does this fit into the continuity? (I know most people probably don’t care, but it’s really interesting to me.) Let’s recap the timeline: most of Call Me By Your Name takes place during the summer of 1987. Oliver visits Elio’s parents 11 years afterward (I’ll call this 11A-CMBYN, because it’s more accurate than just saying 1998—some of the time jumps aren’t exact and it could be technically 1997, etc.). Elio visits Oliver in America 15 years after the main plot (15A-CMBYN). And Oliver finally reunites with Elio at his home in Italy 20 years after (20A-CMBYN).
The basic premise of the first section, Tempo, is this: Samuel Perlman, Elio’s dad, is divorced, meets a woman on a train, and has a Before Sunrise-style day walking around and falling in love with her. It’s supposed to take place in 10A-CMBYN, but that means Oliver visits Elio’s parents one year later, which seems unlikely if Samuel and his wife are already divorced. I mean, I guess you can make it fit if you really want to—Samuel still lives in the same house and there are references to he and his wife still being friends, so maybe they all hung out together. Still, Samuel’s divorce is a clear retcon, and it’s kind of distracting.
It’s also distracting because we know that by 15A-CMBYN, Samuel will have died already. So we know, reading it, that he’ll die, at most, four years after the events of Tempo. I guess Aciman does this intentionally, and there’s dramatic irony in knowing Samuel’s going to die soon after this wonderful new development in his life. In theory that makes the story both heartbreaking and joyful; it’s sad that this relationship won’t last very long, but it’s beautiful that Samuel and Miranda were at least able to find their person, even for just a limited period of time. But…I don’t know. Aciman doesn’t really do much with that tragic irony, and instead it kind of feels like he’s just shoehorning this story in.
Similarly, the second section, Cadenza, takes place in 15A-CMBYN, a few months before Elio visits Oliver in America. The third section, Capriccio, takes place in 20A-CMBYN, shortly before Oliver visits Elio in Italy. And the final section, Da Capo, takes place in 20A-CMBYN directly after the final pages of CMBYN. These all sort of fit with the chronology, if you squint: Samuel is still alive during Cadenza, which must mean he dies in the few months between that section and Elio’s visit to America. And in Da Capo, Samuel is dead, while Miranda and her son Little Ollie are living at Samuel’s old house with Elio’s mom. It’s a weird arrangement, but I guess it works.
It’s not that there are specific things that definitely don’t fit. But it’s still clear that Aciman (or the book’s proofreader) bent over backwards to make these things just barely work, and as a result the product feels hastily assembled, kind of like fan fiction. Aciman is essentially filling in little unimportant side stories that occurred between the main events of the first book’s last 20 pages, and as a result this all feels kind of slight and meaningless. I can’t imagine someone reading both books and preferring this book.
But let’s dig deeper into the four different stories.
I. Tempo: 2.5–3 stars.
Part of me admires Andre Aciman’s almost perverse willingness to delay gratification by totally depriving readers of Elio and Oliver for half the book. Okay, sure, Elio shows up toward the end of this section and reminisces about Oliver with his dad, but besides some vague references, the first half of this book is totally divorced from the plot of Call Me By Your Name. It’s about Samuel Perlman, Elio’s dad, but really it could be about any aging man. And honestly, I think Tempo might’ve worked better if it didn’t use the same characters as CMBYN, especially because of the distracting aforementioned continuity confusion.
The love story itself didn’t work great for me. The train conversation between Samuel and Miranda kind of repeats the same pattern over and over: one character predicts something surprisingly accurate about the other, proving they have some almost chemical connection. Miranda playfully teases, which Samuel loves. Many of the conclusions they come to about each other really aren’t that impossible to predict; they’re not shallow observations, but they’re also not incredible to the point that I’d think of them as soul mates. Did they have one magnificent, magical date over the course of this day and night? Sure. But does that mean they’re meant to be together for the rest of their lives? No. This storyline lacks the realism of Before Sunrise, the characters’ tentative feelings of I’m not sure I’m allowed to say I feel this way yet, because it’s only been a day. It’d be nice as a story about Samuel finally learning to feel something again after his divorce, but ‘epic love story’ feels like too much.
That said…oddly, there’s one section I quite liked, when Samuel and Miranda finally start their physical relationship and Samuel starts to wonder if they’re meant to be together. I didn’t find the connection totally believable (also, to be honest, the big age gap made it feel more cliché and Woody Allen-y to me), but accepting the premise that they’re soul mates, I was swayed by the romance of it. I do like the way the title ‘find me’ comes into play, and the way the characters muse about how miraculous it is that they found each other, that after all this time searching for the one they ended up sitting together on a train. And I like how that idea scares Samuel, how he’s terrified by how close they came to never meeting at all. A decent amount of the language in this section is kind of cheesy and overwrought, and the characters articulate their feelings a little too eloquently. But it’s at least kind of hot and offbeat in a way reminiscent of CMBYN, and if you overlook the fact that these characters have only known each other for a day, the feelings and philosophical musings are rendered well.
So yeah. Some nice language in places, but mixed feelings on the romance, and as a whole I really didn’t feel like this needed to be about Elio’s dad. Making this a Call Me By Your Name sequel places the burden on the author to live up to the first one, and I might’ve liked this a bit more if it wasn’t even connected.
II. Cadenza: 3.5 stars.
I like Elio’s story in this book a lot more, because it’s humble and realistic. Elio forms a real, deep connection with Michel, probably the second deepest romantic relationship he’s ever had, but it still pales in comparison to what he experienced that summer with Oliver so long ago. And Michel himself knows that, which makes the ending of this story sweet and sad.
The courting period also has a lot more tension than Samuel and Miranda’s, because Elio and Michel are constantly unsure what each other is thinking, so they’re constantly modulating what they say and trying to play it cool. It feels reminiscent of the first book, when Elio never knew how far he could take things with Oliver, so he always tried to hide how desperately he wanted to embrace him. The sexual tension is a lot more palpable in this section than Tempo, and it’s partly because of that unsureness, that paranoia that what Elio’s sensing might not be real. Also, as weird as it seems, it might be stronger because it’s two men. There’s often an added dimension of mystery and sexual playfulness when two men (or two women) are attracted to each other, because the question isn’t just Is he attracted to me? but Is he attracted to men at all? It’s always satisfying in stories like this when the characters finally confirm their sexualities to each other, and they kind of share a smile, reassured about the possibility of their connection. What makes Aciman’s writing so sexy is how characters leave things unsaid, how they communicate with body language, and that’s much more prevalent in this story than Tempo.
I really liked how this story developed, how there’s a fun little detective story element as Elio and Michel try to unravel the mystery of Léon, a man Michel’s father may have had a relationship with. I like the focus on the music score Michel found that he wants Elio to figure out, and how the book starts to use music as a metaphor for passion and love (a theme that carries over to the next section). And I like that the whole time, there’s the tension of knowing Elio will never love Michel the same way he loved Oliver, which gives their relationship a limited shelf life. It gives every dialogue they have an element of danger—neither wants to bring up the future, because neither wants to acknowledge that this is only going to last so long.
III. Capriccio: 4 stars.
The Oliver story is easily my favorite in the book. I like that it’s so short and contained: it’s basically a fun and introspective short story set during a man’s going-away party, an event that makes him reconsider all his relationships. Oliver’s New York City sabbatical is coming to an end, and soon he has to return to New Hampshire, to his boring life with his wife Micol.
My favorite part of this story isn’t Oliver being haunted by Elio; my favorite part is his weird little flirtation with Erica and Paul, two guests he doesn’t know very well. The two of them meet each other, then he joins them and the three become their own little unit, talking and laughing together the whole party. There’s this unspoken charged sexual connection among the three of them, and it becomes almost unbearable; you just want them to have a threesome, or even to become a full-blown polyamorous trio, but the power of the story partly comes from knowing that this connection is ultimately doomed, that none of them will betray their respective partners.
This story takes advantage of Aciman’s greatest strength, which I’ve already mentioned: his ability to dissect body language and unspoken sexual energy. The story has the least amount of sex in all of them, but it’s so sexy in a way the others aren’t. It’s palpable and thrilling, and all their partners being there means it’s going to remain in this realm of fantasy forever, this one weird and magical night when something chemical existed between all three of these people.
I also like how it continues the theme of music: the capriccio Paul plays is a way of expressing his desire for Oliver without using words or outwardly betraying his boyfriend. It makes Oliver’s desire for him even stronger, but it also brings him back to Elio playing it for him years ago, and suddenly Elio is all he can think about. I like this passage: “What had I wanted from them? For them to like each other so I could sit, sip more prosecco, and then decide whether or not to join their party? Or had I liked them both and couldn’t decide which of the two I wanted more? Or did I want neither but needed to think I did because otherwise I’d have to look into my life and find huge, bleak craters everywhere going back to that scuttled, damaged love I’d told them about earlier that evening.”
Here’s my one issue with this story: it kind of rewrites the ending of CMBYN from a character standpoint. One of the things I loved about that book’s ending was how the power dynamic is a bit uneven: yes, maybe Elio and Oliver are ‘soul mates’ and neither will ever find someone who they love as much as each other, but Elio was the one who felt a little bit more haunted by this than Oliver. Oliver got married shortly after leaving Elio; while Elio stayed stuck in the past, Oliver was able to build a whole life for himself and his family. He stresses that while seeing Elio now is like waking up from a coma, “I prefer to call it a parallel life. It sounds better. Problem is that most of us have—live, that is—more than two parallel lives.”
What’s sad and complicated about the end of the first book is that Elio and Oliver will likely both be haunted by their love for each other forever, but Oliver has found a semblance of stability, a more humble, grateful form of happiness that doesn’t require torrid sex and grand operatic romance. His life without Elio isn’t necessarily a better or worse one. It’s just a different one. But Oliver’s story in Find Me implies he’s really bored and unhappy with life, that he feels exactly the same as Elio…which kind of flattens out the fascinating, uneven dynamic of the first book.
IV. Da Capo: 2.5 stars.
I don’t know, man. This section should be electric. It’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for: the direct continuation to the end of Call Me By Your Name, the 20A-CMBYN Elio-Oliver reunion in Italy. But it just feels kind of limp and undercooked.
To be fair, Aciman kind of hangs a lampshade on the inevitability of anticlimax by making Elio and Oliver’s first night in bed together kind of anticlimactic. Neither really wants to have sex; they’re awkward, and they feel the weight of time too acutely. But the old feelings are still there, and they sort of gradually transition back into their old relationship, learning how to be themselves around each other again.
That could make for a fascinating story, if Aciman wanted to devote a whole book to that. It’d probably be far better than what we get. But instead we get 13 pages, which I don’t really understand. I definitely didn’t need a whole book devoted to Elio and Oliver being together—I didn’t need anything of them at all!—but giving them this small little story together feels strange. What we get is basically an epilogue to an epilogue we already got in the first book. And it undoes the complexity and beauty of that ending by giving Elio and Oliver an unambiguously happy ending. It feels like 12 years later, after seeing the success of the movie, Aciman decided to…give fans the ending they want?
I’m not against happy endings. Sad endings can be just as overly simplistic as happy ones. But what we got at the end of Call Me By Your Name wasn’t unsatisfying. Maybe my central issue with this book is its inherent existence—why mess with a perfect ending? And while I admire the attempt to do something different with these characters, I can’t help but feel like I just read a disjointed collection of deleted scenes.