More so than any other series I have read, Ferrante’s saga feels like a continuum. The division of the body of work in four books serves but practical purposes, without having an impact in the rhythm of the narrative. It was only in the forth book that I found my interest faltering in some chapters, although I was compensated with some of the most intense parts of the whole series, particularly in the section leading up to Tina’s disappearance.
On the surface, the premise of the saga likens to the one of so many other dramatic stories. It chronicles the life of two women as they grow up; navigate life and experience love and loss. It is however so much more than that. Their stories unfold against the backdrop of a post-WWII, poverty-stricken Naples, where tensions abound due to societal upheavals, political turmoil and the criminal activity of the Camorra.
Amidst such a harsh and unforgiving environment people are forced to act accordingly. Natural proclivities, capabilities and aspirations are not sufficient to produce something substantial, and if predisposed to kindness, one needs to develop a callous exterior in order to survive. These circumstances were all the more challenging for women, who lived in a man-dominated world, completely subdued by the will of their fathers and then their husbands. Physical violence was the norm, and it appears very matter-of-factly in the books – it is only upon circumspection that it appears shocking.
"We had seen our fathers beat our mothers from childhood. We had grown up thinking that a stranger must not even touch us, but that our father, our boyfriend, and our husband could hit us when they liked, out of love, to educate us, to reeducate us."
“The mothers of the old neighborhood … appeared to have lost those feminine qualities that were so important to us girls and that we accentuated with clothes, with makeup. They had been consumed by the bodies of husbands, fathers, brothers, whom they ultimately came to resemble, because of their labors or the arrival of old age, of illness.”
Ferrante’s two protagonists are a blend of virtues and weaknesses, very rarely depicted in fiction so clearly and richly. Both left me feeling confused about whether I liked them or not. From time to time they are perceived as annoying or even blatantly evil, and evoke righteous indignation to the reader. The judgment and disapproval, however, never fail to subside when filtered through the lens of the fallible human nature. Each follows different strategies to escape their environment, and in doing so, Ferrante delves into the nature vs. nurture argument.
Elena, the narrator, follows a less trodden path - at least for those in her neighborhood: she focuses on education and on honing her mental faculties. Her path is challenging as she tries to figure out her identity without any role model in her community.
Particularly in the first two volumes I was continuously frustrated with her. I was thinking to myself: why does she keep doubting her worth in spite of her achievements - why does she always see Lila as superior in abilities and in experiences and in passion - why does she accept her belittling comments without protest - why does she not account herself as a full-fledged person with valid thoughts and feelings - why does she contend herself in being the Plain Jane who others will confide in but that no one will take seriously –– why is she keen on restricting herself to the role of the loyal friend who people will turn to for solace?
Her university years were eye-opening, her world expanded and she encountered people and ideas very different than her own. However, her need to conform and please others intensified, as she found herself involved in subjects that were not necessarily close to her heart.
"I had been excessive, I had striven to give myself male capacities. I thought I had to know everything, be concerned with everything. What did I care about politics, about struggles. I wanted to make a good impression on men, be at their level ... I had been conditioned by my education, which had shaped my mind, my voice. To what secret pacts with myself had I consented, just to excel. And now, after the hard work of learning, what must I unlearn."
“Maybe there’s something mistaken in this desire men have to instruct us; I was young at the time, and I didn’t realize that in his wish to transform me was the proof that he didn’t like me as I was, he wanted me to be different, or, rather, he didn’t want just a woman, he wanted the woman he imagined he himself would be if he were a woman.”
The pattern persists throughout her life; she is not her own person. She feels the need to prove herself and to become SOMETHING, without having any driving passion and concrete ideas about her aspirations. Instead she attempts to earn the approval of people she deems authority figures by steering herself professionally towards their topics of interest (she delved into class conflicts because of Lila, politics due to Nino, the feminist movement due to Pietro’s mother and sister). She does not trust her gut and is not content with subjects she finds herself drawn to naturally (like human relationships, which became the subject of her most personal and easy to write novels – the first and the two last ones).
“I discovered that, with Lila set aside, I didn’t know how to give myself substance except by modeling myself on Nino. I was incapable of being a model for myself. Without him I no longer had a nucleus from which to expand outside the neighborhood and through the world, I was a pile of debris”.
For that exact reason, I thoroughly enjoyed the moments when she fleetingly defies her inferiority complex and feels at peace with herself and her limitations (e.g. when she decides to attend Lila’s wedding dressed simply, although generally wanting to feel wanted // when later on in her life she acknowledges the refutation of expectations of what she would achieve).
"I said to myself every day: I am what I am and I have to accept myself; I was born like this, in this city, with this dialect, without money; I will give what I can give, I will take what I can take, I will endure what has to be endured."
She can be very unsympathetic from time to time, particularly with respects to her husband: she treats him horribly and without an ounce of respect, she does not acknowledge his moral integrity or any good trait in his character and she failed to defend him even when he was ridiculed in his own house. She then acted selfishly and did not accept the blame and the responsibility concerning the way in which she betrayed him; she rather chose to express her indignation about people’s comments and reactions to her own actions. I found her relationship with Nino particularly tedious, her childlike behavior, her blindness to his perfectly consistent inconsistency and her oblivion to his “worst kind of meanness, that of superficiality.” Although this whole ordeal was, I guess, necessary for her disillusionment and her finding her feet, it was very disappointing to me.
(I also appreciated the depiction of her relationship with her mother, the mother’s conflicting feelings towards her - love, acceptance, pride, hate and resentment – and how everything fell away before her death).
Contrary to Lenu, Lila is unapologetically herself. She is the beautiful, naturally gifted, rebellious, uncompromising one, who does not attune to the needs of others and does not care to entertain the whims of anyone but herself. The one whose intellect is incontrovertible both as a child and as a woman. A force to be reckoned with. Her fiery temperament is so effortlessly radiant that it attracts and beguiles even the foulest of characters, like Michele,
"He didn't want her the way he generally wanted women, to feel them under him, to turn them over, turn them again, open them up, break them, step on them, and crush them. He didn't want her in order to have sex and then forget her. He wanted the subtlety of her mind with all its ideas. He wanted her imagination. And he wanted her without ruining her, to make her last."
but also calculating, self-serving womanizers, like Nino. While he normally holds women to low regard, and treats them like expendable objects and as means to an end, he finds himself drawn to the spirit and magnetism of Lila (although eventually he is not able to stand the competition and the constant proof of her raw, uneducated superiority).
“She possessed intelligence and didn't put it to use but, rather, wasted it, like a great lady for whom all the riches of the world are merely a sign of vulgarity. That was the fact that must have beguiled Nino: the gratuitousness of Lila's intelligence.”
Due to lack of support of the familial environment her intelligence goes to waste – she marries for comfort and the deal soon festers. She is broken in more ways than one, physically, emotionally, mentally. She slowly relinquishes herself to the situation and her future – it is not an act of resignation but rather of a conscious understanding and acceptance of her circumstances. But even amongst lost hopes, broken dreams and unfulfilled potential, her temperament shines through: she manages to fight convention in small and big ways, and thus maintains a sense of self and imposes her presence.
"If nothing could save us, not money, not a male body, and not even studying, we might as well destroy everything immediately."
"In the fairy tales one does as one wants, and in reality one does what one can.”
“To write, you have to want something to survive you. I don’t even have the desire to live, I’ve never had it strongly the way you have. If I could eliminate myself now, while we’re speaking, I’d be more than happy".
She is not, however, a one-dimensional, martyr-like persona. In fact, far from it. She often comes across as harsh and unlikeable. She is volatile, mean-spirited, obnoxious and talks to Lenu in a demeaning manner with no regard towards her feelings – or maybe even to deliberately cause her pain and to somehow punish her for leaving her behind.
Their relationship is not consistent; they complete and push each other, but they also wear each other down. Love, respect and idolization alternates/coexists with bitterness, resentment and jealousy.
Lila is often inconsiderate and blatantly hurtful, especially when feeling out of place and condemned to a particular lifestyle, but she also pushed Lenu to succeed and to rise above the restrictions and the predetermined fate of the neighborhood’s residents.
“Not for you,” Lila replies ardently, “you’re my brilliant friend, you have to be the best of all, boys and girls.”
"I expect the best from you, I'm too certain that you can do better, I want you to do better, it's what I want most, because who am I if you aren't great, who am I?"
Lenu exalts and idolizes Lila, she admires her and sees in her a model of what a woman should be. She wants her to reach her full potential, but she also does not want her to attain a success that she, herself, hasn’t managed to in years. At times she feels the need to flaunt how far she’s come and sometimes she even wishes Lila dead.
“she ignited my brain… we tore the words from each other’s mouth, creating an excitement that seemed like a storm of electrical charges.”
“I knew - perhaps I hoped - that no form could ever contain Lila, and that sooner or later she would break everything again.”
Despite the ups and downs of their relationship, the world of the one seemed to revolve around the other, even when it did not contain the other.
“I traced lines between moments and events distant from one another, I established convergences and divergences. In that period it became a daily exercise: the better off I had been in Ischia, the worse off Lila had been in the desolation of the neighborhood; the more I had suffered upon leaving the island, the happier she had become. It was as if, because of an evil spell, the joy or sorrow of one required the sorrow or joy of the other”.
“It's only and always the two of us who are involved, she who wants me to give her what nature and circumstances kept, I who can't give what she demands; she who gets angry at my inadequacy and out of spite wants to reduce me to nothing, as she has done with herself, I who have written for months and months to give her a form whose boundaries won't dissolve, and defeat her, and calm her, and so in turn, calm myself.”
In this exploration, Ferrante subverts the stereotypes of friendship. Although I doubt such a relationship would be sustainable in real life, the writer manages to expose a heightened and more intense version of feelings encountered in our own friendships. Are those characteristics pertinent to female friendships in particular, or generally between any two people? I cannot say for sure.
In the end, not everything goes as hoped and not all loose ends are tied – perhaps expecting such a development from a novel (and from life) is an exercise in futility. The book left me with an uneasy feeling, a vacancy that I did not know how to address.
"Where is it written that lives should have a meaning?"
“Only in bad novels people always think the right thing, always say the right thing, every effect has its cause, there are the likable ones and the unlikable, the good and the bad, everything in the end consoles”.