*The Gallery by John Horne Burns (NYRB Classics, 2004; orginally published by Harper & Bros., 1947)

 

I've read about this book for a long time, I suppose because it has some gay content (and the author was gay), and I don't know why I didn't read it earlier.  I'm glad I finally did.

The Gallery is (like so many good books)  an odd book -- it has a singular pattern and form that is sometimes narratively thwarting but is ingeniously suited to its purpose, which is to portray a wide-angle view of Naples (and North Africa) in 1944, when the tide is turning in WWII and the Allied forces are chasing the German's up the Italian peninsula (an offensive that is also vividly and dramatically explored in The End of It, Mitchell Goodman's beautiful book).

The title refers to the Galleria in Naples, which although it has been bombed during the warm and has lost its glass ceiling, is still home to bars, cafes, and shops, and teems with all kinds of civilian and military life.  The title also refers to the form of the book, which is comprised of a series of "portraits" --story- or novella-length chapters that are each centered on one character, ranging from American soldiers to Italian civilians, and ultimately reflecting the extraordinary gamut of people living -- and dying -- in Naples in August of 1944.  These portraits are interspersed with "promenades" in which a first-person narrator remembers and vividly describes various places he has been stationed during the war -- namely Casablanca, Algiers, and Naples.  The resulting mix of characters and places is wonderfully rich and engaging.

Burns' portrayal of Italy and Italians is loving and sympathetic, and although the book's tapestried form doesn't allow it to gain much narrative momentum, it is always engaging and frequently profoundly moving.  Although flawed -- some of  characters are cliched or simplistic -- The Gallery is an ambitious and impressive book.