ROME - A New Yorker who graduated in political science, Sari Gilbert seemed headed for academia but in 1972 a research grant brought her to Rome and a career with The Washington Post and Newsweek.

 In 1991 she became a staff member of a new Italian daily L’Indipendente then, when it died an early death, transferred to the financial daily Il Sole 24 Ore.  She captures the excitement, satisfactions, camaraderie, jealousies and frustrations of working as a journalist hired in Rome rather than a correspondent sent from the head office.  

 She also faced dangers as she underwent what may have been a kidnap attempt at gunpoint by presumed terrorists.  During her 16 years on the Italian publications, she was again frustrated because the locals gradually froze her out.   She now blogs at www.stranitalia.it

 Her work stories entail reports of major Italian events such as the assassination of the former Prime Minister Aldo Moro and Ali Ağca’s attempt to assassinate Pope John Paul II. She conveys the surreal atmosphere of the trial of the Ali Ağca who was mad or acted the part convincingly: he announced every now and again that he was “Jesus Christ the son of God” and that he had a message about the end of the world.  

 Although she does not mention it, it was also befuddling that when he gave a long answer to a question, his translator delivered it tersely, but when Ağca gave a short answer, the translation of it rambled on lengthily.

 The other theme of the book is Sari’s private life including a big cast of lovers, ranging from a worker who came to renovate her apartment to a judge, as suggested by the subtitle Living (and loving) in Italy’s Eternal City. These raunchy, kiss-and- tell episodes might cause some embarrassment: she mostly uses first names only but provides sufficient details (for instance, he was a Christian Democrat politician with six children etc) for persons to be identified.  I think I spotted one with no effort.

 All the affairs fizzled out which was unsurprising as she has a penchant for married men. She concludes that Italian men lack a sense of responsibility and records some classic ‘get lost’ scenes such as a lover who stopped contacting her. Meeting him some time later at an American Embassy reception she reproved him but he brushed her off with ‘I thought you’d have figured it out for yourself’.

 Even those after something more than a bit on the side ultimately were disinclined to leave their wives and, moreover, Sari had her doubts as to whether she wanted that.  She seems frank about her love life but springs a surprise by mentioning in the concluding pages an anonymous live-in partner who lasted several years without supplying any details at all.

 Food is another theme, and also life in her Trastevere district. Her portrayal of its earthy characters, such as restaurant employees, shopkeepers, a pharmacist and hairdressers, their quirks and their sense of solidarity, make this the less spectacular but most satisfying aspect of the book.

 In fact, towards the end when she emphasises Trastevere the chapters strike a better balance between individual stories and information about the social context.  She stuck with Trastevere if not with many lovers and ends with the feeling about it rather like that usually applied to marriage: - I wouldn’t have started if I knew all the difficulties involved but it was worthwhile.

 Her My Home Sweet Rome is a thorough, frank, impartial and amusing account of a New Yorker grappling with Rome and Italy.  It was published in London but deserves a hard cover US edition - with a better cover.          

My Home Sweet Rome, by Sari Gilbert is published by Perigord Press, 329 pages, €10.99.