I am not averse to reading non-fiction, and regular readers of my blog will know I have reviewed some works of non-fiction in the past. One of the things I love about being in a book club is the diversity of books I’m reading as a result, as we’re often reading things I never would have picked up in the bookstore. Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes, however, is not a book I am grateful to have encountered…
In my humble opinion, this book had so much potential that it never even got close to. From the blurb, it sounded like it’d be an interesting memoir as a woman and her husband make the life changing move to Tuscany. I’d love to visit Italy one day, so surely I would enjoy this book, right? Oh boy, not at all!
This wasn’t an interesting memoir in the slightest, unless you are someone who loves reading about renovations and food, for dozens and dozens (and dozens!) of pages. I love food, and can watch episodes of The Block with much enthusiasm, but there was nothing interesting about reading the arguments about well water, or building a freaking garden wall and how long it took, and having pages upon pages of recipes I have no interest in ever trying. If I wanted a recipe book, I’d pick one up, thanks. The fact I kept reading this book was a miracle and a true test of my determination (or stubbornness), but it was helped because of my regular zoning out and knowing that others in the book club were suffering as I was. There is a film of the same name, which apparently is absolutely nothing like the book and therefore is actually much better than the read, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch it. I give this one star because I managed to read the bloody thing.
Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes: 1 out of 5 stars.