Addio, Love Monster
Chrstina Marrocco
Ovunque Siamo Press, 282pp
June, 2022
Literary collection of short entwined stories
Audio $5.99
Ebook $7.99
Print $16.99
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About the Book
Addio, Love Monster is a novel told in linked
stories spanning generations on the “regular” yet remarkable Singer Street of
fictional midcentury Mulberry Park, just outside of Chicago. Marrocco
transports you fully into this small world where Signora Giuseppa, the “iron
fist” of Singer Street, does everything it takes to keep her grown children
very near her, no matter what. Where Enrico the widower creeps in the night
looking for a new wife in all the wrong places. Where Nicky the golden-gloves
boxer wrestles with what he saw in the basement as a child—and Lena, his wife,
also wrestles—with how to deal with Nicky’s violence. Each story follows one
person, but together they are the story of the neighborhood, a neighborhood
that faces life together, whether they like it or not. In these pages you will
find humor and sorrow, resentment and adoration, and the churn and change of a
neighborhood where everyone knows everyone both too much and too little as time
marches on.
My Review
I adore beautifully drawn stories populated by memorable
characters; stories that come around to reveal themselves layer by exquisite
layer. I wasn’t sure what to make of Marrocco’s title, Addio, Love Monster,
but the premise drew me in. The family, immigrants, first and second generation
Sicilian Americans of the 1950 and 60s Midwest, are endearing, exasperating,
and noble. The love monster of the title, Guiseppa Millefiore, loses her
husband while raising seven of her eight children still at home. Determined to
keep them close, she subtly weaves a web for her sons and daughters on Singer
Street by buying up houses and lots and renting them out to her children.
Each of the twenty-one stories features a child, in-law,
grandchild, other denizens of Singer Street, even the neighborhood itself, such
as the tale of The Day Nothing Bad Happened. Guiseppa is the fulcrum of the
tales, which slowly revolve through nearly a generation timespan, neatly tied
with a death on both ends. Marrocco’s command of detail creates 3D pictures
without overwhelming the senses. “Timing was everything” isn’t a cliché on
Christmas Eve, when a most unusual role reversal occurs and we see tenderness
beneath the trigger temper of Guiseppa’s son Nicky, who has little memory of
his father. It is “sisters who help their brothers miss what they could not
recall,” he thinks. Descriptions such as “Each letter looked like a little tombstone,”
and Gramma’s blanket “was an itchy sort of thing, probably picked up on a
clearance at Goldbatts’s by someone out shopping for something else entirely,”
are amusing and poignant as they work to set the tone.
Guiseppa holds her family tight, a mother who defends her
children and grandchildren under any and all circumstances and is held in the utmost
esteem to her deathbed. She’s teacher, overseer, confidant, sly; the provider
most of them don’t ever fully understand and appreciate. One of my favorite scenes
is when Gramma counsels her young grandson John about his confession that he
thought about everything and concluded there was no God. The fact that he even reluctantly
told Guiseppa while believing he’d shock and mortify her, says so much about
the power of her love. Guiseppa works to ensure all of her children stay true
to the family, even if it means getting them brides or arranging for adoptions
from Sicily. Family feuds, family secrets, family dreams all muddle together in
a charming and thoroughly entertaining collection of generational stories
wrapped sweet and sour, like pollo in agrodolce.
About the Author
Christina
Marrocco works in memoir, short story, long fiction, and poetry. Her work has
appeared in Silverbirch Press, The Laurel Review, House Mountain Review, VIA,
Ovunque Siamo, and Red Fern Press. She lives outside of Chicago where she
teaches Creative Writing and other courses at Elgin Community College.
