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A review by notesofacrocodile
The Dry Heart by Natalia Ginzburg
4.0
for some reason i see this one as a horror story; sure, it may not fit into the traditional view of what constitutes such a story, but there is this slimy unease that accentuates the relation between the protagonist and her husband, particularly in the way that said husband treats her. there is also a growing sense of situations and circumstances slowly souring and mutating into something horrifying that i couldn't help but see it as belonging to a sub-type of horror fiction.
the protagonist is a desperate woman, intoxicated by the attentions of a man (soon to be her husband) after having gone without it for twenty-six years (alas, the unfortunate thoughts that can only be attributed to a society that centers men), and apparently falls in love with him. i use the word 'apparently' here, because it becomes clear to the reader that her sentiments are more complex than one may think. love cannot be the right emotion to describe it as.
natalia ginzburg has a way with her words, she does not waste herself to flowery prose or grandiose statements- she writes her prose in such a way that we as the readers can feel the protagonist's emotions simmering beneath her skin. we can feel its intensity even as it is not always directly explained to us.
i admire writers who can pack so much within 100 pages; usually i feel as though a story's impact could have been more appropriate and up to the mark had the length been increased. but natalia ginzburg wraps up her story very neatly- you finish the last page and you feel the thunder of the silence right after it.
the protagonist is a desperate woman, intoxicated by the attentions of a man (soon to be her husband) after having gone without it for twenty-six years (alas, the unfortunate thoughts that can only be attributed to a society that centers men), and apparently falls in love with him. i use the word 'apparently' here, because it becomes clear to the reader that her sentiments are more complex than one may think. love cannot be the right emotion to describe it as.
natalia ginzburg has a way with her words, she does not waste herself to flowery prose or grandiose statements- she writes her prose in such a way that we as the readers can feel the protagonist's emotions simmering beneath her skin. we can feel its intensity even as it is not always directly explained to us.
i admire writers who can pack so much within 100 pages; usually i feel as though a story's impact could have been more appropriate and up to the mark had the length been increased. but natalia ginzburg wraps up her story very neatly- you finish the last page and you feel the thunder of the silence right after it.