Villa Coco

Andrew Sean Greer’s latest novel is like a caffè shakerato (espresso poured into a martini tumbler over ice and shaken vigorously), perfect for summer and deceptively frothy. But then the caffeine kicks in, and you can’t put it down, eager to learn what next awaits the narrator, a fresh-faced American college grad who arrives in Tuscany intending to catalog the treasures in a Baronessa’s villa. The Baronessa (Coco) is ancient, sly, energetic, and elusive. Does she really own a Picasso? Which of her tales can be believed? All of her friends and employees are also charmingly mysterious and often frustrate Giovedi (so misnamed because he arrives on a Thursday) in his attempts to bring order to the daily chaos. His duties, as described in the want ad, were “dictation, pruning, shopping, hunting martens,” but Giovedi also helps harvest olives, learns Italian, poses for a painter, listens to countless stories, takes a lover, and ultimately learns to become less American. To laugh more, to accept the impossibilities that surround him. Every page sparkles with wit, leading to a delicious and satisfying end.