I finally got around to reading My Brilliant Friend (#896), the first book in Elena Ferrante's celebrated Neapolitan Novels. To tell the truth, I'm not sure whether I liked it or not. I confess that I did read it in just a couple of days, but when I noticed that My Brilliant Friend has been made into a series on HBO, I'm equally tempted to just watch an episode or two of the show and then call it quits.
Why am I so ambivalent? Maybe it's because I really don't like either of the main characters, either Elena or Lila. These books are supposed to be a celebration of female friendship, but I don't see it. The girls certainly have a strong emotional hold on each other, but it's marked by such meanness and self-interest that every action comes with a heavy psychic price. To be honest, the people in the neighborhood reminded me strongly of the neighbors who lived in back of us when I was growing up - they also were from post-WWII Naples, sang and argued loudly, hanging their laundry out to dry. I wasn't supposed to mix with them much because they weren't quite "nice". I guess that's why I had more sympathy with the girl dressed in green in downtown Naples whose boyfriend was beat up by Lena and Lila's brother and his friends.
With all the grudges and vendettas ripe to burst at Stefano's and Lila's wedding banquet in the final pages, you know that the next book won't get off to a good start. The marriage has already been ruined before it's even begun. Do I really want to read three more books of this? I don't think so. I've already happily moved on to Anthony Trollope, who is much more to my taste.
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