A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of reading, in my opinion, the best coming-of-age story so far and because this precious little story was so special to me, because it changed me in some unusual way, I wanted to share it with you. Call Me By Your Name is a novel, written by the American writer André Aciman, published by 'Farrar, Straus and Giroux' publishing company in 2007. It tells the story of the romantic relationship between curious and intellectually precocious, 17 years old, American-Italian Jewish boy Elio Perlman and a 24 years old American-Jewish scholar Oliver in the summer of 1983, Italy. The New York Times literary critics called the novel 'an exceptionally beautiful book' and I couldn't agree more. In it, the writer shows the exceptional skill for making you feel homesick over first love you probably forgot by now, or the first love you never forgot, or love you've yet to experience, and all this waved into little pieces of wisdom that you'll remember and quote ten years from now. I know what you think; this is probably another summer romance gay book that you read that one time on the beach and left it behind to whatever booklover finds it first. But it's not. This is a book that, actually, deserves its place in your private library, a book that you'll gladly come back to many times later in your life if nothing else then to rediscover how beautiful and intoxicating it is. But, for the most part of it, you'll want to experience that raw love that makes you completely exposed and vulnerable to another human being, love that you hide so well from the others in order to protect yourself from being hurt or misunderstood, love whose existence you deny yet can't help but acknowledge when your basic human instinct tells you it's safe just so it doesn't die completely. Whether through music, poetry, or other forms of art, you'll find the way of keeping it alive.

Call Me By Your Name won't give you warm fuzzies of summer love and youth but it will remind you of infatuation and obsession you once had over another person's existence, feelings you don't feel proud of now as a fully grown-up person. It will make you yearn for the time you lived your life so boldly, so miserably that now, when memories hit so close, it feels like it was only then you actually lived. And Elio Perlman will become the only drama queen you'd want to hang out with all the time. And, at some point, you will realize that his youthful emotions and frustrations were once yours; you were Elio Perlman, you ARE Elio Perlman.

This novel is a eulogy for yearning, for the youthful memories you keep preserved in a shabby box under the bed, for all dramatic parts every human being is made of, for all the little things that grew bigger and shaped us into a person we are today. It's not the strength of the characters you will admire forever but vulnerability and the truthfulness of one's heart which was your heart once, which is your heart now.


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You had a beautiful friendship. Maybe more than a friendship. And I envy you. In my place, most parents would hope the whole thing goes away, or pray that their sons land on their feet soon enough. But I am not such a parent. In your place, if there is pain, nurse it, and if there is a flame, don’t snuff it out, don’t be brutal with it. Withdrawal can be a terrible thing when it keeps us awake at night, and watching others forget us sooner than we’d want to be forgotten is no better. We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything—what a waste!

"Have I spoken out of turn?" he asked.

I shook my head.

Then let me say one more thing. It will clear the air. I may have come close, but I never had what you had. Something always held me back or stood in the way. How you live your life is your business. But remember, our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once. Most of us can’t help but live as though we’ve got two lives to live, one is the mockup, the other the finished version, and then there are all those versions in between. But there’s only one, and before you know it, your heart is worn out, and, as for your body, there comes a point when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Right now there’s sorrow. I don’t envy the pain. But I envy you the pain.

the words of wisdom: Professor Perlman to his son, Elio

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Call Me By Your Name is a poetic, obsessive, attractive, lustful, intelligent novel that will make you want to hug the main character like he's a little abandoned kitten, like you would want to hug a 17 years-old-self and let both know that shattered youthful dreams of love will slowly burn into the ground and life will become more bearable as the time goes by. But then again, will it though?

André Aciman is an American memoirist, essayist, and New York Times bestselling novelist originally from Alexandria, Egypt. Aciman grew up in a multilingual and multinational family and attended English-language schools, first in Alexandria and later, after his family moved to Italy in 1965, in Rome. In 1968, Aciman's family moved again, this time to New York City, where he graduated in 1973 from Lehman College. Aciman received his Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from Harvard University and, after teaching at Princeton University and Bard College, is Distinguished Professor of Comparative Literature at The Graduate Center of The City University of New York. He is currently chair of the Ph. D. Program in Comparative Literature and founder and director of The Writers' Institute at the Graduate Center.

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