I seem to be reading a lot of good historical novels lately and “Ciao, Amore, Ciao” by Sandro Martini is high up on my list of favourite books in this genre. The novel is based on the true story of the author’s Italian family’s experiences during World War II. It is heartbreaking, thought provoking and kept me spellbound from the beginning. Not many books do that! Before I introduce Sandro onto the blog, here’s a quick book summary to whet your appetite 😊
BOOK SUMMARY
In the winter of 1942, an army vanishes into the icefields of the Eastern Front. In the summer of 1945, a massacre in small-town Italy makes international headlines… Today, an ordinary man is about to stumble onto a horrifying secret.
Alex Lago is a jaded journalist whose family, marriage, and career are fading fast. So, when the accidental discovery of an aged photo from World War II offers him a last gasp at bonding with his dying father, Alex can’t help but scratch at the scabs of a mystery seventy years in the making.
What he’s about to uncover is a secret that can topple a political dynasty.
From the unhealed wounds of a post-war massacre to an army of boys forever frozen at the gates of Stalingrad, from British spies reshaping Italy’s post-war future to the casual cruelty of ice-hard US Army investigators, and from the unsolved murder of a partisan hero to the most heroic, untold battle of World War II, the deceits of the past are about to propel Alex on a collision course with a deadly legacy… until a compromised, beautiful stranger promises redemption for an unimaginable price.
THE INTERVIEW
A big warm welcome to the blog, Sandro 😊 Please introduce yourself…
Hi! I’m a word monkey who’s somehow managed to make a living writing across three continents. Started in Africa, then London, and Italy, then two decades in New York, and now I’m hiding out in Zurich in a building with a nuclear bunker. You can’t be too careful these days.
I’ve published a few novels—mostly historical fiction—and my next one, Joburg Zen, lands in October. It’s about Johannesburg, which is arguably the most insane city in the world, and a golfer named Bobby Locke and his family.
I’ve been reviewed by the New York Times, told to go work as a waiter (specifically at Mickey D’s!) when things weren’t going well, and once made a “Top 10 Young Writers” list in the UK. So … a … balanced career.
For what it’s worth, I didn’t believe the hype or the put-downs. I just believed in myself. It’s probably the only advice I’d ever think of handing out.
“Ciao, Amore, Ciao” is a heartbreaking historical novel based on the true story of your Italian family’s experience during World War II. What made you decide to write a novel based on this true story?
I lost both my parents within 12 weeks of each other in 2019. The week I buried them together in a small town in the foothills of the Dolomites, I came back to Zurich broken—and started writing a novel I’d been researching for ten years.
Maybe it was therapy. Maybe something else. I honestly don’t know. I don’t even remember writing the first draft. It came together from about five thousand cue cards and a lot of grief.
Maybe I just wanted to keep them alive a little longer.
It’s a story about “little” people—those caught up in history rather than shaping it. Those are the stories that matter to me.
Who were the hardest characters to portray?
My uncle. He vanished during the war—part of what Italy now calls the “Vanished Army.”
A lot of people don’t realise Italy fought at Stalingrad. Their losses were catastrophic. Men simply disappeared into the ice of a Russian winter—left behind, buried without ceremony, or lost on death marches they called the “Way of the Davai”.
My uncle was 18.
My father never recovered from that. And he never spoke about him.
I was named after my uncle. I look like him. So writing about him … that was difficult. Because he never came back, and despite years of research, I never found out what became of him.
Were there any aspects of writing your novel that surprised you, either by being harder or easier to write about than you expected?
Writing about my father’s final weeks.
The book demanded honesty. And being honest about your father—as a son—is complicated.
There’s a temptation to turn yourself into something heroic. Or maybe, I don’t know, cool. Tough. Whatever. I wasn’t any of those things. The only thing I can give myself credit for is that I didn’t break until he left.
I was just a guy trying to get through one day at a time. It’s like gluing something broken back together. From a distance it looks fine. Up close, you see every seam.
Hypothetically speaking, if “Ciao, Amore, Ciao” was made into a film, who would you love to see portraying the characters, especially Alex Lago?
My ego says Brad Pitt in his prime.
Reality says Nicolas Cage.
He has that perfect mix of mania, gallows humour, and confusion. And dodgy hairline. That’s Alex.
Have you always wanted to have a career in writing or did you have other aspirations?
I wrote my first “novel” at nine. It was about Nazis living in a volcano. So yes—this was always the plan.
The trick is: novels don’t pay the bills unless you’re one of a very small group. So I built a career writing professionally, which lets me keep my fiction exactly how I want it. Doesn’t pay the bills, but I can focus on the lyricism and prose. That’s what matters.
It’s a good balance.
Are you a bookworm? What is your favourite genre and/or authors? Kindle or actual book?
I read about 200 books a year. Whatever fits the mood.
To give you an idea: this month I read Inshallah by Oriana Fallaci, The Exorcist (if you haven’t read it, it’s very good, not schlock at all), the new Rob Rinder law novel The Defence (fantastic new series), and a few non-fiction works for the novel I am currently writing—Caribbean by Mitchener, The Serpent and the Rainbow by Wade Davis, Divine Horsemen by Maya Deren, and some smaller historical books from St Maarten (by Will Johnson and Jean Glassock).
All-time favourites? Céline, Romain Gary, le Carré, Graham Greene. And Anthony Horowitz—consistently excellent.
And physical books. Always.
Is “Ciao, Amore, Ciao” available to purchase worldwide?
Yes—and it even hit the Amazon bestseller charts for a while.
Personal now – what outfits and shoes would you normally be found wearing?
Important question. I’m Italian!
Winter: black jeans, a turtleneck (I have a mild obsession with Aran fisherman knits), and handmade shoes from my dad’s hometown, from a small shop called Zamberlan. Those shoes last forever.
Summer: white linen shirt (obviously), jeans, and my completely destroyed Superga 2750s.
Those shoes just scream Italy in summer. Same design since 1925. And the history is cool: A guy named Martiny (yup!) used surplus vulcanized rubber from the tyre factories in Turin to design new shoes for his wife, who was a tennis player. He invented what was arguably the world’s first rubber tennis shoe.
That became the “2750 Cotu” model, which became the classic Supergas of today.
If you don’t own a pair, we need to talk.
Do you have any favourite shops or online sites?
Superga, obviously.
Otherwise, Brera and Porta Ticinese districts in Milan for vintage stuff. I go with my daughter. It’s two hours from Zurich and about half the price… just don’t get stopped at the border on the way back!
What’s next on your clothes/shoe wish list?
A new pair of white Superga 2750s when these finally fall apart. I got new Zamberlan’s in October. The Supergas may just make it through the next summer.
Boots or Shoes?
Shoes.
Unless there’s snow. (And then, probably still shoes, though I have a great pair of 20-year-old Zamberlan mountain boots!)
Why shoes? Because I only tie my laces about twice a year. I never really learned properly. Same with the alphabet—I got to that in my teens.
Don’t ask.
Links
It has been fantastic chatting with you, I loved your book and am looking forward to to reading more of your novels in the future. My thanks to you and Ben Cameron of Cameron Publicity for sending me a review copy of Ciao, Amore, Ciao, although my opinions are 100% my own.
Linda x
All photographs have been published with the kind permission of Sandro Martini.
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