Tellingly, this relationship between White and Ruggero was supposed to have happened around the time of the pandemic, suggesting the possibility of a hastily written book based in recent experience – although, of course, that’s mere supposition on my part, the result of attempting to explain its otherwise baffling existence. (One senses, almost immediately, that she’s nothing more than a prop for the true subject of White’s interest – Ruggero – who is written, in turn, as a person might write about Picasso’s Guernica with their nose to the canvas.)Īs these romances and sexual exploits are revealed, it becomes apparent that the other real focus of the book is “Edmund White”, a fictionalised version of the author, to whom Ruggero once declared love before promptly abandoning.

Later, Constance abruptly leaves him for a neighbouring American, undoing with a sharp snip the already unconvincing efforts to make her a rounded, believable character.

These consist of discordant, draft-like sections of text written from each of their perspectives, interspersed with thoughts and snippets of conversation, that trickle back over their past sexual experiences.įor no especial reason, early on Ruggero breaks his leg while skiing. The structure is disorientating but centres, at least initially, around a married couple, Constance and Ruggero, living about 30 years hence, who decide to read their “confessions” to one another. Edmund White’s A Previous Life reads precisely how one might imagine it, with all the lengthy asides, meandering passages and endless high-falutin’ referencing one would expect. Have you ever wondered what a book of reminiscences by Uncle Monty from Withnail & I might be like? Well, look no further.

A previous life edmund white review