This was a real treat. Already keen on Olivia Laing’s writing, I found The Silver Book to be moving and thought-provoking and improvement on her first novel, Crudo, which was also very good. It centres on an affair between Nicholas, the rather shadowly delineated central figure, and Danilo Donati, celebrated film designer during the period when Pasolini’s Salo and Fellini’s Casanova were being made. There’s lots of fascinating insights into film-making and politics in 1970s Italy and a sense that a lot of research has gone into making this novel work quite effortlessly. There are also plenty of warnings for our present. Like a queer version of Jonathan Cole’s excellent Mr Wilder and Me, this is really very good indeed.

Olivia Lang's latest novel takes us to the world of Italian cinema in the 1970s, specifically to the Cinecittà studios, where Pasolini and Fellini are making movies. Into this milieu wanders Nicholas, a young man disillusioned with British life, and in love with what Italy can offer - a hedonism not known back home. He meets and falls for Danilo Donati, a costume designer working in the studio. Rich and evocative, Laing's prose consumes us with it's beauty, and submerges us into this lost world with ease. It may have helped that I am very familiar with and also in love with this same period of Italian cinema, so none of the references went over my head. For someone not so familiar, you will certainly appreciate the detail and gain a sense of the mystery and majesty of the time.

This is a wonderful novel which I devoured in one sitting.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for the ARC.

There's an interesting story here, a fictionalising of the real murder of Pier Paulo Pasolini while he was filming his Salò, a film which drew on Sade's 120 Days of Sodom as a way of exposing the corruptions and violence of Mussolini's fascist Republic of Salò (1943–1945). Pasolini was outspoken in interviews highlighting what his film was doing and implicating not only the fascist state, supported by Nazi Germany, but also the complicity of the Catholic church and the CIA in their rabid crusade against communism. Laing takes this real story, including some missing reels of film which were suggested to have been a lure to get Pasolini to his place of murder, and adds in a queer young man, the lover of the real-life Danilo Donati, who won an Oscar for the costume design of 'Casanova'.

While there is fascinating detail on what happens on a film set in this period, I found the writing style oddly sterile, holding me at arm's length: the 'told' style with few scenes or dialogue ('The date is last November. You didn't tell me about this, Nico says. I was living here then. I hardly knew you, Dani says. And you didn't know anything about Italy. You hadn't even met Pasolini') almost feel like notes to the novel this hasn't yet become.

Laing's non-fiction is so intimate, so involving, so emotive that I expected something similar from her fiction - this, however, feels cold, a bit shallow and superficial - I felt like an on-looker throughout watching the action in a detached and disinterested way through a window.

The Silver Book by Olivia Laing is a compelling and atmospheric read that plunges you into the dazzling yet shadowy world of 1970s Italian cinema.

Set against the backdrop of Venice and Rome during the turbulent Years of Lead, the story follows Nicholas, a young English artist on the run, who becomes entwined with Danilo Donati, a masterful costume designer working with Fellini and Pasolini.

Laing’s prose is rich and evocative, capturing the magic and menace of Cinecittà studios where film and reality blur. This is part love story, part thriller, and part meditation on the delicate line between illusion and truth.

Nicholas’s hidden secret drives the narrative towards an unexpected and poignant tragedy, adding layers of complexity to the relationship at its heart.

The book’s strength lies in how it explores power, identity, and artistic creation with sensitivity and insight. It may not suit those looking for a fast-paced thriller, but for readers who appreciate mood, depth and a touch of queer romance, it is a rewarding journey.

Olivia Laing’s ability to weave real history with fiction invites reflection on the costs of beauty and ambition. A captivating and thoughtful read that lingers long after the last page.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

I was intrigued by the title and the cover of this book, but the story was not for me. It was too dark and graphic.

Thanks to Netgalley for an ARC of this intriguing book. Set in the 1970s film world which is likely to be quite alien to people this is a queer love story with some very dark undertones. I am unfamiliar with the two films talked about and only know about the Marquis de Sade by repute having never read any of his works. I really liked the characters of Nicholas and Danilo and their relationship felt real and authentic. At the time homosexuality, certainly in the UK was known about and not illegal but very much frowned upon, certainly in my 1970s world. I expect the film world at that time would be very alien to most people and certainly the two films being produced in this book were highly controversial. There are some great one liners in the book that made me stop, reread and think about. I certainly benefited from reading about de Sade, 120 Days of Sodom, the film based on the book and Casanova beforehand. Fellini’s use of de Sade’s book as an anti-fascism tool was unexpected.
The book is explicit in places. I had no problem, but some people might.
Overall I think it’s a thought provoking read and a great book for book discussion.