This reads as if it had been written a hundred years ago, as the descriptive element reminds me of Manzoni, but this was published in 1958 posthumously after some rejection - the same year as Murray Leinster's War with the Gizmos. So not a bad year.
After reading this opening, I can understand why some readers might find it hard to keep reading. Their loss, one must assume. Although this novel was written as a means of combating depression, which does not bode well, it is this that actually makes me want to read on more than anything in the opening pages. Description rarely hooks, no matter how wonderfully written it is. However, there is some suggestion of conflict with the words: love, virginity, death.
The opening dialogue looks promising and indicates a master writer at work. It reveals character, an internal attitude, and some conflict in the form of dead bodies. Nevertheless, the droning on of opening narrative text is for insomniacs, not me.