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A review by broro117
My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante
Did not finish book. Stopped at 62%.
I started this book in March 2023. It's now nearly June 2024, and although I've occasionally mustered the will to trudge through a few more pages of this book over the past 15 months, today my last little bit of will to continue finally evaporated.
As much as I know there's no shame in DNFing and that life is too short to force yourself to finish a book you're not enjoying, I'd heard enough good things from people whose opinions I trust that I thought I had to eventually find something I liked about this… right? Well, that never happened. In fact, I disliked this book nearly as much as I dislike its godawful cover.
But maybe "dislike" is the wrong word. It's more like there was just nothing to like. Despite there being approximately a million characters (none of whom I could keep straight), every single one of them feels cold and totally devoid of charm. I couldn't connect to them at all because they didn't ring true as human beings. I didn't like spending time in this world one bit, which is truly an impressive feat, as Italy has been the #1 destination on my bucket list for years now. Ferrante managed to cast a bleak shadow with no redeeming qualities over a country I adore.
Normally when I've gone a month or two without picking up a certain book, I'll quickly skim over what I've read to get myself back up to speed. But I never did that with this book because I didn't want to spend any more time with it than I had to, and as it turns out, I'm not actually obligated to spend any time with it at all.
Now excuse me while I spend the evening watching The Lizzie McGuire Movie and Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy to restore some of what this book tarnished.
As much as I know there's no shame in DNFing and that life is too short to force yourself to finish a book you're not enjoying, I'd heard enough good things from people whose opinions I trust that I thought I had to eventually find something I liked about this… right? Well, that never happened. In fact, I disliked this book nearly as much as I dislike its godawful cover.
But maybe "dislike" is the wrong word. It's more like there was just nothing to like. Despite there being approximately a million characters (none of whom I could keep straight), every single one of them feels cold and totally devoid of charm. I couldn't connect to them at all because they didn't ring true as human beings. I didn't like spending time in this world one bit, which is truly an impressive feat, as Italy has been the #1 destination on my bucket list for years now. Ferrante managed to cast a bleak shadow with no redeeming qualities over a country I adore.
Normally when I've gone a month or two without picking up a certain book, I'll quickly skim over what I've read to get myself back up to speed. But I never did that with this book because I didn't want to spend any more time with it than I had to, and as it turns out, I'm not actually obligated to spend any time with it at all.
Now excuse me while I spend the evening watching The Lizzie McGuire Movie and Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy to restore some of what this book tarnished.