Villa America • Liza Klaussmann

When I read My Face for the World to See by Alfred Hayes last year, I was once again in the mood for a story set in the early 20th century. That distinctive atmosphere—decadent, melancholic, and smoky—that clings to America of that era. Although the story is set on the Côte d’Azur, the characters and the tone promised exactly what I had enjoyed in Hayes’s novel. Maike’s review and a rather affordable offer on Booklooker finally convinced me to buy it.

I hadn’t heard of the author Liza Klaussmann before, and once again, I didn’t read the entire blurb. That’s often a bit of a leap of faith, but in this case, the blurb is a major spoiler, and I’m very glad I stopped after the first sentence. With non-classics, there’s always a greater risk of choosing the wrong book, so it’s often not that important to know the full synopsis beforehand.

There are three protagonists: Gerald, Sara, and Owen. The book begins by briefly outlining the lives of these three. The rest of the novel serves as a kind of backstory—starting with the early youth of the main characters, told in episodes: their experiences during the war, how Gerald and Sara come together, and how they eventually end up on the Côte d’Azur. Klaussmann takes about 170 pages to develop this, which is enough to bring the characters closer to the reader. Only afterward does the story move on to the decadent lifestyle of Sara, Gerald, and the many celebrities surrounding them.

Thanks to the strong dollar, wealthy Americans could live luxuriously in Europe—especially in war-torn France. The Lost Generation consisted of well-known authors of American modernism, as well as artists who lived it up on the Côte d’Azur in the 1920s. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, and John Dos Passos are among the most famous figures to appear in this novel, closely connected to Gerald and Sara. However, they don’t come off particularly well here. Their decadent and wasteful lifestyles consist mostly of parties, drinking, affairs, lounging on the beach, feasting on caviar, downing champagne by the gallon, and engaging in shallow conversation. Although the emotional lives of the characters are portrayed, none of them—including Gerald and Sara—really come across as sympathetic, and I couldn’t truly empathize with any of them. The group doesn’t seem very happy either. During their years of plenty, Gerald and Sara do little more than squander inherited wealth without achieving or realizing anything meaningful in their lives.

At times, I found the book a bit slow, though I was also entertained in places—particularly by the dialogues and encounters at the parties. None of it is spectacular, but it’s engaging enough. The characters, however, often felt underdeveloped. For instance, the inner conflicts driving the transformations of Gerald and Owen seemed somewhat shallow and not entirely convincing. Klaussmann does, however, vividly capture the Riviera, its villas, and its atmosphere—I truly felt immersed in that setting.

I found the inclusion of real historical figures somewhat problematic. Hemingway, Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, Picasso, and John Dos Passos all appear here. It’s hard to tell what’s authentic and what’s the author’s invention. Klaussmann notes that she researched thoroughly, read extensively, and even drew on real letters. But when she offers intimate insights into Zelda and Scott’s relationship or passes judgment on Hemingway’s wife through Sara’s perspective, I can’t help but wonder—how authentic is this really? Were these elements imagined for narrative effect, or based on fact? Even Klaussmann herself admits the line isn’t always clear, and that ambiguity bothered me. So the question remains: is the image of these people—their words, actions, and portrayal—believable? Hemingway, in any case, once again comes off as quite an unpleasant character. I’ve never been fond of his minimalist style and still can’t quite understand how he became so famous. On the other hand, people like all sorts of things I find puzzling, so perhaps his popularity isn’t that surprising after all.

Overall, the novel gives a vivid impression of the Lost Generation’s way of life. I was surprised to learn in the end that Sara and Gerald were not fictional characters. Since Klaussmann portrays their inner worlds in such depth, I had assumed they were invented to drive the story. But as her notes reveal, the two of them—and their parties, their Villa America, and even their gatherings with Hemingway and the Fitzgeralds—really did exist. For her research, Klaussmann drew upon a book by Amanda Vaill, whose Hotel Florida I had already read (in which Hemingway also plays a significant role).

The book closely follows the real biographies of its figures—people who truly lived and experienced many of the events depicted. As a reader, you get exactly what’s promised: depictions of human lives as they might have been, without any deeper moral than life itself offers. And that’s perfectly fine—what you get is solid entertainment.

Conclusion: Based on historical events and real people, Villa America offers an evocative glimpse into the Lost Generation of the 1920s. Featuring key figures like Hemingway, the Fitzgeralds, Picasso, and Dos Passos, the novel immerses the reader in the decadent and pleasure-seeking world of the Riviera. Even though it’s not always clear what really happened or whether the portrayals are true to life, it’s an entertaining read. Still, the book and its characters didn’t fully captivate me—I always felt a certain distance, as if their inner thoughts were never fully revealed and something was missing. If you like the setting, I can definitely recommend it, though it’s not a must-read.

And if you’d like to set the mood for the book, have a listen to my stylish gramophone: My Gramophone on YouTube.

Book Information: Villa America • Liza Klaussmann • Droemer Knaur Verlag • 496 pages • ISBN 9783426305454