On Reading: Giovanni’s Room: Life is not Passive, It requires choice

Giovanni’s Room explores the complexities of love, self-deception, sexuality, and desire as it delves into the internal conflict of an American expat in Paris, named David, who has an affair with an Italian bartender, Giovanni, while his girlfriend, Hella, is in Spain. 

To me, what stuck is that it’s a story about avoidance. About what happens when you refuse to choose your life. That was the thing that stayed with me most. Not David’s identity. Not even his relationships. But the way he drifts. The way he lets life happen, convincing himself that not choosing is safer than choosing wrong.

I’ve seen that instinct before. In other people. In myself. For a long time, I rejected the idea of being “intentional.” It felt premature. Like I didn’t know enough yet to decide anything with conviction.

But as I read Giovanni’s Room, over everything else, I saw the cost of that mindset clearly. The impact it has on the self and those around you. Because not choosing your life doesn’t mean nothing happens. It just means you won’t be the one deciding.

Observation 1: Living as a Spectator

Throughout the novel, David moves through life as if it isn’t his. 

His one decisive act is leaving home for Paris. This is key, Paris isn’t home. It’s a holding space, not real life. And he tries to treat it as such. It’s what he thinks will allow him to avoid the demands of choices and commitment.

He forms relationships with men he despises for money rather than working. He explores desires he feared having back home. He falls in love, but never fully enters the relationship, knowing the clock is ticking, and the expectations are uneven. 

None of it is grounded in truth. It’s treated as something that will eventually disappear, once he returns to his real life. Because temporary life works as an excuse to avoid accountability and consequences. The hope is the problems will just fade away with time.

As we see throughout the novel, the consequences do exist. For David and the people in his life. We’re not spectators watching from the sideline, nor is life a solo game. Even our avoidance touches other people.

Observation 2: Purity / Superiority as Avoidance

As David moves through Paris, he does so with a sense of superiority. The type of superiority and arrogance many attribute as an American trait. But it’s not a superiority built from confidence. It’s a mask and shield worn to hide insecurity and a feeling of inferiority. I’ve seen this in others. I’ve seen it in myself. 

It shows up in quiet ways. In judgement. In distance. In passivity. In not choosing, so you can avoid conflict and never have to risk being wrong. 

In the climax of the novel ,Giovanni tells David, “You do not love anyone…  You love your purity… You want to be clean.”

They’ve been intimate. That’s not the issue. The issue is that David never shows up honestly enough. Because vulnerability requires removing the mask and the shield. It’s coming as you are, hoping you’re received, and risking rejection. Instead he chooses distance. The illusion of control that keeps superiority intact. The safety of appearing untouched.

But purity is not morality. It’s avoidance disguised as control. 

The truth is, those who can be vulnerable and authentic and make choices in life at the risk of consequences may not have the aesthetic of superiority, but they have the experience that makes them so. 

Observation 3:Self-Denial Is Destructive

As David casts judgement on those around him, Guillame, the owner of the bar where Giovanni works and Jacques, the wealthy man who uses his money to buy the affection of young men, David becomes more like them.

It’s not a lack of morality or awareness that drives this. He sees exactly who and what they are. But self-denial pulls him there anyway

Jacques, especially, represents the endpoint. Someone who understands love, but has lived too long outside of it to any longer reach it. 

When he sees David and Giovanni, he tells him:

“Love him and let him love you… Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?”

“If you think of them as dirty… you will be giving nothing.”

“You play it safe long enough and you’ll end up trapped… like me.”

Jacques knows the cost. He has first hand experience in the destructive nature of self-denial. It’s what’s caused him to seek out carnal pleasure that will never be as fulfilling as love. Self-denial built on shame and fear, doesn’t purify you. It distorts you. It’s a corrosive force.

It leads to regret. It pushes you into the very behaviors you claim to reject. We see it clearly when David sleeps with a woman just to prove something to himself, then leaves her used and alone. No different than the men he resents.

Avoidance doesn’t keep you clean. It just changes the form of the damage.

Observation 4: The Refusal to Choose 

The real collapse comes from one thing. Refusing to choose. David delays every decision, waiting for clarity, for timing, for the situation to resolve itself. It’s not unique to him. We do this all the time, telling ourselves it’s caution or that we’re avoiding harm to ourselves or others.

It’s not that. It’s fear, cowardice even. And it’s still a choice. Indecision isn’t neutral. It’s a decision. Just one we try to distance ourselves from. Because if we never choose, we never have to fully own the outcome. 

But the outcome still arrives. And relief and cleanliness don’t arrive with it. I know first hand.

We see David avoid choosing Giovanni before Hella’s return. Then avoids choosing again when she does. He waits to be forced into a decision, believing it relieves him of responsibility. It doesn’t. It only guarantees the decision won’t be his. Stripping him of agency. And because of that he can’t stand on it. It collapses. And it takes everything with it. 

Conclusion: Love and Life Requires Surrender and Choice

Life and love both require surrender. And they require choice.

They don’t reward distance. They don’t reward hesitation. You don’t get to stay untouched and still experience them fully.

They demand participation. I understand the instinct to wait. To let things fall into place. To avoid choosing until the “right” answer becomes obvious.

But that moment rarely comes. What comes instead are consequences. Quiet ones at first. Then louder. Because if you don’t choose your life, it doesn’t stay unchosen.

It just stops being yours.