André Aciman’s Call Me By Your Name is, at its heart, a novel about first love—the kind that consumes, unsettles, and lingers long after the last page. It is a romance, but not in the conventional sense. There’s no grand declaration, no sweeping resolution, and no clear line where love begins or ends. Instead, it’s an intimate, feverish portrait of desire and self-discovery, narrated through the restless mind of seventeen-year-old Elio.
What really makes this book stand out is how honest it is about longing. Elio doesn’t just have a crush on Oliver—he practically unravels over him. Every look, touch, and random comment gets overthought, replayed, and twisted around in his head. That kind of overthinking? Feels way too familiar. Aciman nails that obsessive side of love so well it’s almost painful to read. Love, when it’s at its most intense, isn’t just about the moments you share—it’s about how those moments echo long after they’re gone.
But, Call Me By Your Name isn’t just a love story. It’s also about growing up—figuring out who you are through love and heartbreak. By the time Elio and Oliver’s summer ends, what sticks isn’t just sadness, but the way Elio has changed. And that’s what hits the hardest. First love isn’t just about who you fall for—it’s about the version of yourself you discover along the way. Aciman shows that even when love fades, the self-discovery it sparks doesn’t. In the end, Call Me By Your Name is less about falling in love and more about finding yourself through it—a bittersweet truth that lingers long after you’ve put the book down.
Words by Megan Ingram-Jones
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