Nothing could be further from the truth

An Italian autofiction sensation where nothing is certain.

Our heroine’s family consists of a meddlesome mother, a father obsessed with cleanliness, a favoured genius brother, and her—Vera. She looks out of the narrow windows of her cramped flat, trying to escape the terror of boredom and anxious pampering, but in an environment constrained by questionable parenting methods, she doesn't stand a chance. To preserve her sanity, she begins to invent her own stories and becomes a writer—and a liar.

Veronica recounts her unsuccessful attempts to become independent and break free from various forms of manipulation, her discovery of her own sexuality, and, above all, her rather peculiar grasp of reality. She gives us a taste of life in Rome from the 1980s to the turn of the millennium and, with wit and subtle tenderness, describes the difficult journey of growing into a woman. Despite the lively and witty narrative, oppressive existential themes occasionally surface, reminding us that instead of reading the story of a victor with a smug smile, we might just as well be reading the story of a victim.

Raimo skilfully pieces together a medley of seemingly disparate experiences, linked by themes such as desire, loneliness, identity, and, above all, memory and remembrance. A witty and elaborate portrait of a woman becoming herself.
— Kirkus Reviews

A funny, sharp, and wonderfully readable novel, in which the playful author invites us into her unpredictable, obsessive family. An engaging book, full of wild escapades and flashes of unexpected reflection, telling the story of a young writer searching for her unique place in life.
— The International Booker Prize Jury

A playful dance between truth and fiction.
— The Guardian