Jonathan Bazzi’s Strega Prize-shortlisted Fever comes to us through a translation by Alice Whitmore. A work of autofiction, it tells the story of Bazzi’s HIV diagnosis in their early 30s and the turmoil they went through to get a diagnosis. The novel is also interspersed with chapters dedicated to chronicling their tumultuous childhood in Rozzano, a ghetto suburb of Milan, leaving the reader to wonder what exactly

This book is not very good. I really didn’t like anything about it all. It was not for me
It was an disappointment

Brutal, heart-breaking, and really rather stunning - happy pub day to the wonderful Fever by Jonathan Bazzi.

Bazzi’s highly acclaimed memoir Fever, translated into English from its native Italian, faces the gruelling and empty reality of an HIV diagnosis - which all starts with a simple fever that will not go away. The ache of helplessness and fear of the unknown is incredibly gripping, as Bazzi describes the beginnings of his HIV diagnosis; but it's the shifts in time between chapters that really strike home.

Jumping from his present day medical mystery, to recollections of his childhood and upbringing in a working class area of Milan, the contrast between the two makes for a striking read. It's intense, but isn't without its lightness too, which speaks greatly of Bazzi's process and life experiences - let alone being able to translate that to the page.

A very honest and thought-provoking read, Brazzi's Fever may not break ground, but it's a well written, personal and interesting exploration of HIV, and the exhausting stigma that still seems to surround it.

This memoir is a beautiful, if heartbreaking, insight into the early stages of an HIV diagnosis. We watch as Jonathan navigates the shame, heartbreak and terror of his mystery illness, the difficulty of telling others, and ultimately accepting it himself.

His early confusion soon morphs into something much deeper, as he tries to come to terms with what this means for his life and relationships now, whilst battling the stigma around him, and the stigma he himself internalises.

The beauty of this book is its simplicity- telling a story of self-discovery without self-pity.

I received an advanced copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I think maybe the writing did not fare too well in translation?? However that aside it was a fairly emotive read and was a real insight into how he accepted this illness,also a look at the Milan we dont often see

Jonathan Bazzi's memoir is both touching and brutal in equal measure. The alternating chapters focusing on his upbringing in a working class area of Milan counterbalanced with his search for an answer to his fever and subsequent need to understand and adapt to his diagnosis make for an intense read but not without humour.

It started with the fever...

Jonathan's completely honest, straight to the point story of growing up, and then finding out he contracted HIV.

Fantastic read, very insightful and thought-provoking. Jonathan is incredible, and honest throughout.

Brilliant. Brilliant brilliant brilliant. I don’t think I’ve read a book this straight to the point yet deep and impactful as this one in quite a while. Such a unique fast paced writing style I honestly cannot say a bad thing about this book. Jonathan Bazzi is an excellent story teller, and such a strong person. I hope his story travels far and wide!

Jonathan Bazzi’s lauded memoir, Fever, is an intense, visceral vision of the fear of the unknown. What starts as a mystery illness, a fever that refuses to break, throws the reader into a delirious world of medical discovery and internalised emotional trauma. This is no romantic view of life in Italy, it is messy, rough and rewarding.

Alternating between their present day illness, laced with fear and paranoia, and reflections on their childhood in Rozanno, ‘the ghetto of Milan’, Bazzi takes us on an ever-deepening emotional spiral. What starts as panic and isolation grows into a larger sense of dread, as both timelines bring us to a fuller understanding of their mental state.

First published in 2019, the spectre of Covid unexpectedly now hangs over the opening chapters. A mystery fever, sore throat, coughing, lethargy - symptoms we’ve all become far too familiar with. For Bazzi however these symptoms lead them on a mission, pushing doctors to look deeper to find the true cause. But are they going insane? Is this all in their head? Bazzi is an untrustworthy narrator as their fever-addled brain spins them tales that may or may not be true.

By the time the true diagnosis of HIV comes (hardly a spoiler as it’s all over the solicitations), it is almost a relief. The claustrophobic introspection of Bazzi’s fear is released to find the cold, deadening revelation.

“Before: I am healthy, I am thirty years old, I have my whole life ahead of me.
After: I am HIV-positive, I have to get better, I will spend the rest of my life getting better.”

As a contemporary novel, Bazzi is quick to place their diagnosis into context, “My life is not over… All I have to do is come to terms with the loss of privilege” and Fever deals with the fall out of being HIV-positive in modern, working-class Italy.

It’s here that the alternate chapters of backstory really start to pay off. By preparing the reader with Bazzi’s own history (and the history of their neighbourhood, friends and family) we are ready for the emotionally and mentally uneven path to progress they go on.

All of this would be nothing if Bazzi’s prose weren’t able to deliver the story, and it’s here they really excel. The text (translated by Alice Whitmore) is deceptively simple but transports you into their own troubled, frantic mental state. It is almost uncomfortable to read in its intensity. The alternating chapters of their childhood can be a sweet relief at times, and at others add to the growing pressure.

As much as Fever is a novel about HIV it is more a tale of mental health, dealing with historical pain and modern day pressures. How to pay the bills when you work in the gig-economy but are wracked with pain and illness? How internalised homophobia stears us on unseen paths later in life? Throw in some commentary on class and privilege in modern Italy and you have a heady mix.

Perfect for readers who want to sink their teeth into a meaty piece of queer literature. Fever may be Jonathan Bazzi’s first novel, but it certainly won’t be their last.

Jonathan Bazzi’s Fever is published in English on May 3, 2022 by Scribe Publications. Order it now from your local LGBTQI+ or independent bookstore (or the usual online shops).

Thanks to Netgalley for an advance review copy

Jonathan’s HIV positive status is more like an existential sickness. It is expressed in the staccato rhythm of abrupt sentences, like an endless list. It is an inventory of parts, separated and reduced to basic elements, not even eyes but a single isolated eye, not tears but salt.

In the book’s wide landscape of Milan and its hinterland events are truncated. No encounter comes to fruition. Relationships are cut short, things left unsaid. In his casual sexual adventures Jonathan is often being stood up, let down, or else he doesn’t wait around. Someone always withdraws too soon. This is a violent Milan. Violence radiates out from the home, ‘I open the front door and let mama’s screams fill the stairwell.’

Jonathon’s mantra is an obsessively repeated ‘I’, only punctuated by a ‘me’ and a ‘my’. The effect is to slow the reading, but to what purpose? Perhaps to indicate the tedium of illness and fixation.
Other characters are little more than the wardens of his body, protecting it, restricting it, ferrying it around, or offering it consolation. But only the I matters. The others are like spectres, tangible only through the treats and comfort they smuggle close to the body. The ‘I’ is numb to the world; other humans threaten to contaminate its integrity.

Jonathan welcomes his HIV diagnosis. It is a validation, his body’s pathology self-certifying his corporal unity. Conventionally, the existentialist rejects the system, but Jonathan embraces it. He is accepted into the great society of the health system, of the afflicted and medicated. “I’m always in a good mood when I go to the hospital,” he says.

I found it interesting to read about the health care system of another country and how they treat HIV. I feel like I've only read a very American or English perspective so this added more to my knowledge of it.
However, it was weighed down by the writing style. I'm not sure if it was the translation, but the sentances felt so stilted and more like bulletpoints than free flowing thoughts.
It does convey the speed everything happened. How he went from a healthy normal life to a life threatening illness so fast. But in the end I just wasn't a fan of the writing as it left no room for actual emotion. I might as well have just read a medical journal.