To make matters worse, their planned mother-daughter trip of a lifetime looms: going to Positano, following the very same route Carol did as a young woman. Katy has been waiting years for Carol to take her, and now suddenly she is faced with embarking on the adventure alone. But as soon as she steps foot on the beautiful Amalfi Coast, buoyed by the stunning cliffsides, delectable food, and charming hotel staff, Katy begins to feel her mother’s spirit.
And then Carol appears for real—in the flesh, healthy and sun-tanned . . . and thirty years old. Katy doesn’t understand what is happening, or how. But over the course of her time in Italy, Katy gets to know Carol in this new form, and soon she must reconcile the mother who knew everything with the young woman who does not yet have a clue.
One Italian Summer is Rebecca Serle’s next great love story, a transcendent novel about how we move on after loss, and how the people we love never truly leave us.
Topics & Questions for Discussion
The novel begins with “Carol’s rules to live by.” How does this set up the story and both Carol’s and Katy’s characters?
Katy describes her mother as “the great love of [her] life.” How does their relationship change over the course of the novel?
When Katy married young, Carol told her, “You have so much time. Sometimes I wish you’d take it.” How does this sentiment recur throughout the story?
Katy finds herself in something of a time slip, as if she has “stumbled into some kind of magic reality where we get to be together. That time here does not only move slower but in fact doubles back on itself.” How does time operate in this novel? Why do you think the author made the choices she did to allow Katy and her mother to take their trip to Positano in the end?
Observing Carol, Katy understands that she is “watching her becoming.” How does the Carol in Positano differ from the one Katy presented as her mother at the beginning of the book? Do you see glimpses of a younger Carol in the one the reader only hears about?
Positano itself acts as a character in the novel, “full of very real magic.” What makes Positano distinctive? What is its draw for each of the characters, both locals and tourists?
A large subplot focuses on the struggles of Hotel Positano and Italy itself, a place out of “some era that is unmarked by modernity.” What did you think of Adam’s plan to purchase the hotel? How do the local characters interact with Adam, Carol, and Katy?
Adam admits that he’s “really good at travel and less good at what happens when you stand still.” How do each of the characters grapple with their own restlessness?
Reflect on how mythmaking—in reference to Capri’s rocks of Faraglioni and the Amalfi Coast’s Path of the Gods—plays a role in this novel, especially in Katy’s relationship with her mother.
In Katy’s final interaction with Carol as a young woman, Carol asks, “Did I leave you?” and Katy responds, “No, you never did.” What was your reaction to that scene?
Much of this novel is about belonging—where and if we belong to whom. Katy notes at the end of the novel that “I do not belong to anyone.” Does that ring true to you?
What did you think about the two major twists toward the end of the novel—one about Katy’s mother and one about time? Did either of those surprise you?
Enhance Your Book Club
Celebrate One Italian Summer with an Italian-inspired feast. Bring pasta and pesto, calamari, and don’t forget the Aperol spritz!
Bring in a photo of a mother figure in your life. Share any stories you have of her as a young woman with your group.
Visit rebeccaserle.com to learn more about the author and the inspiration behind this book.
A Conversation with Rebecca Serle
This novel is dedicated to your own mother. What made you want to tackle a mother-daughter story?
My mother is truly the great love of my life, and my greatest fear is her dying. This book is part love letter to her and part love letter to my future self—the one who will have to live in this world without her. To me mother-daughter stories are extremely intimate, rich, heartbreaking, and challenging. Our mothers are our first blueprint of love, but they are also people. So many of my readers have lost their mothers or have challenging or nonexistent relationships with them. I want to pay tribute to how we honor this very deep connection, and then also how we break away. Because we must.
Some early copies of In Five Years and One Italian Summer arrived with a pack of tissues. How do you create these emotional, wrenching moments that speak to a wide swath of readers?