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pumpkinbisque's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
i devoured these books. devoured might be even too generous — i gulped them down, without any regard for a proper digestion period, and now that i’m on the other side of them i almost wish i’d been slower and savored them because i’m left with a stomachache simultaneously from gluttony and from hunger. probably the best singular word to describe this “series” (it’s really just one book, don’t take breaks between them to read other things; i cannot imagine reading this as the books came out, sounds like agony) is riveting. absolutely and entirely riveting. the intricacies in drama, relationships, love, hatred, and political involvement are inextricable from each other and written in such a skillful way.
lenú and lila’s relationships with each other are at the center of every other relationship they have with anyone else. they circle back to the dolls in the first book, at once competing and grasping each other as if a lifeline. they sabotage each other, bully each other, cling to each other, push each other away, and above all love each other until the end. the fact that there is an end at all feels wrong; as i was reading, i found myself thinking that the story could go on forever. the holes in their relationship could have been filled in, the secrets they told themselves and others, the relationships between their children. i could have stayed in this little world with lenú and lila indefinitely. i’m glad it has an end — god knows too many pieces of media overstay their welcome in favor of keeping the money flowing — but it still feels like there will be a hole for a while. i don’t know how i’ll fill it. maybe with more ferrante.
probably the thing i found myself most irritated with throughout the novels was a sense of contradictory self-awareness/oblivion that lenú and lila both exhibited. this is no fault of the writing, of course — it’s a feature — and it serves to keep readers bouncing back from position to position, siding with elena, siding with lila, siding with neither, siding (surprisingly) with their lovers at some points. these women are not two-dimensional, they are four/five/six dimensional. they morph and twist into each other and change long-held positions so often it’s dizzying. they hide things from each other and from themselves, sometimes in equal measure. the men in their lives never come close to understanding them as they understand each other, and it makes sense why lila would describe elena as the most important person in her life, above and beyond anyone else. even when they’re absolutely horrible to each other, blaming each other for the things going wrong in their lives, it’s still the other whose opinion is most valued, most vital. they cannot stay away from each other, and the periods in the book that dragged the most (not that it really ever dragged) were those in which lila was absent.
it was fascinating from a modern perspective how backwards much of elena and lila’s lives felt, mainly in regards to gender and gender roles. it was second nature for men to beat their wives and children, and when these children get up and married, it was second nature for their husbands to beat them or for them to beat their wives. sexual assault and rape was dismissed constantly, massive age and maturity gaps existed in many of the central relationships, and the violence was constant. it feels silly and naive to be surprised by these things existing in post-WWII Italy, but the book did feel often like it was from a different time entirely, outside the realm of our timeline. it was almost unsettling the closer we got to the turn of the century, as the characters were sometimes still stagnant in their outdated beliefs, the locations were still stagnant in their infrastructure. it made me consider just how sheltered i am to deny even the possibility of an environment like the neighborhood in a country so “cultured” and “refined” as italy.
im giving it a 4.75 because it feels like the closest thing to a perfect book ive ever read, but taking a bit off because it ended and i never wanted it to.
lenú and lila’s relationships with each other are at the center of every other relationship they have with anyone else. they circle back to the dolls in the first book, at once competing and grasping each other as if a lifeline. they sabotage each other, bully each other, cling to each other, push each other away, and above all love each other until the end. the fact that there is an end at all feels wrong; as i was reading, i found myself thinking that the story could go on forever. the holes in their relationship could have been filled in, the secrets they told themselves and others, the relationships between their children. i could have stayed in this little world with lenú and lila indefinitely. i’m glad it has an end — god knows too many pieces of media overstay their welcome in favor of keeping the money flowing — but it still feels like there will be a hole for a while. i don’t know how i’ll fill it. maybe with more ferrante.
probably the thing i found myself most irritated with throughout the novels was a sense of contradictory self-awareness/oblivion that lenú and lila both exhibited. this is no fault of the writing, of course — it’s a feature — and it serves to keep readers bouncing back from position to position, siding with elena, siding with lila, siding with neither, siding (surprisingly) with their lovers at some points. these women are not two-dimensional, they are four/five/six dimensional. they morph and twist into each other and change long-held positions so often it’s dizzying. they hide things from each other and from themselves, sometimes in equal measure. the men in their lives never come close to understanding them as they understand each other, and it makes sense why lila would describe elena as the most important person in her life, above and beyond anyone else. even when they’re absolutely horrible to each other, blaming each other for the things going wrong in their lives, it’s still the other whose opinion is most valued, most vital. they cannot stay away from each other, and the periods in the book that dragged the most (not that it really ever dragged) were those in which lila was absent.
it was fascinating from a modern perspective how backwards much of elena and lila’s lives felt, mainly in regards to gender and gender roles. it was second nature for men to beat their wives and children, and when these children get up and married, it was second nature for their husbands to beat them or for them to beat their wives. sexual assault and rape was dismissed constantly, massive age and maturity gaps existed in many of the central relationships, and the violence was constant. it feels silly and naive to be surprised by these things existing in post-WWII Italy, but the book did feel often like it was from a different time entirely, outside the realm of our timeline. it was almost unsettling the closer we got to the turn of the century, as the characters were sometimes still stagnant in their outdated beliefs, the locations were still stagnant in their infrastructure. it made me consider just how sheltered i am to deny even the possibility of an environment like the neighborhood in a country so “cultured” and “refined” as italy.
im giving it a 4.75 because it feels like the closest thing to a perfect book ive ever read, but taking a bit off because it ended and i never wanted it to.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexism, Bullying, Sexual harassment, Sexual assault, Toxic relationship, Violence, Sexual violence, Adult/minor relationship, Murder, and Death
Moderate: Grief, Terminal illness, Addiction, and Child abuse
Minor: Miscarriage, Trafficking, and Ableism
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