A review by fiendlust
Up at the Villa by W. Somerset Maugham

emotional sad slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? No
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

2.75


This book is short, but it unravels like a slow-burn disaster you can’t look away from. Mary Panton is a young widow living in a borrowed villa in Italy, surrounded by wealth, beauty, and men who want to marry her. On paper, she has options—she could settle for security with an older diplomat, Sir Edgar, or maybe even let herself get swept up in something riskier. But one impulsive night changes everything.  

Enter Karl, a broke refugee with nowhere to turn. Mary, out of kindness (or maybe loneliness, or boredom, or something even she doesn’t fully understand), spends the night with him. The next morning, he’s dead—by suicide, right there in her villa. And just like that, Mary’s perfect world starts to crack. Instead of calling for help, she turns to Rowley Flint, a man with a reputation for being unreliable but who, ironically, is the only one willing to deal with this mess. Together, they cover it up, pretending none of it ever happened.  

What makes this book so gripping is how detached and unsettling it feels. There’s no dramatic breakdown, no sweeping tragedy—just people making cold, calculated choices to protect themselves. Mary isn’t necessarily heartless, but she is privileged, and that privilege lets her walk away from something that should ruin her. And Rowley? He’s reckless, frustrating, but also the only person who sees Mary for who she really is, not just who she’s pretending to be.  

Maugham’s writing is sharp and unsentimental, which makes the whole thing even eerier. It reads like a psychological thriller wrapped in luxury—glamorous settings, quiet danger, people pretending everything is fine when it’s very much not. The ending is unsettling in the best way—no grand moral lesson, just a practical, almost cynical resolution that leaves you wondering if Mary really learned anything at all.  

Not a comforting read, but if you like morally ambiguous characters, quiet tension, and that feeling of watching something beautiful slowly rot from the inside, this one sticks with you.