What do you think?
Rate this book
L’amica geniale #3
Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay
Since the publication of the acclaimed My Brilliant Friend and The Story of A New Name, Elena Ferrante's reputation has grown enormously. Her novels about the friendship between Lila and Elena, about the mysteries of human relationships, are utterly compelling.
In Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, the two protagonists are now in their thirties. Lila, married at sixteen, has left her husband and the comforts of her marriage, and has now joined the workforce. Elena has left the neighbourhood in Naples, been to university, and published a successful novel, all of which has brought her into a wealthier, more cultured world. Both women are seizing opportunities to flee a life of poverty, ignorance and submission. Yet they are still very much bound to each other by an unbreakable bond.
Elena Ferrante was born in Naples. She is the author of four other novels: The Days of Abandonment, Troubling Love, The Lost Daughter, My Brilliant Friend and The Story of a New Name. She is one of Italy's most acclaimed authors.
Ann Goldstein has translated Elena Ferrante's earlier novels. She is an editor at the New Yorker and a recipient of the PEN Renato Poggioli Translation Award.
'Ferrante's writing has no limits, is willing to take every thought forward to its most radical conclusion and backward to its most radical birthing.' James Wood, New Yorker
'Elena Ferrante will blow you away.' Alice Sebold
'Everyone should read anything with [Elena Ferrante's] name on it.' Boston Globe
'Ferrante transforms the love, separation and reunion of two poor urban girls into the general tragedy of their city, a place so beautiful and heartbreaking that it inspired the expression "Vedi Napoli e poi muori" - "See Naples and then die".' New York Times Book Review
'Elena Ferrante may be the best contemporary novelist you have ever heard of...Ferrante's voice is startlingly honest...her storytelling both visceral and compelling.' Economist
'The writing and translation from Italian are first-class.' Otago Daily Times
'The first two Neapolitan novels move far from contrivance, logic or respectability to ask uncomfortable questions about how we live, how we love, how we single an existence in a deeply flawed world that expects pretty acquiescence from its women. In al their beauty, their ugliness, their devotion and deceit, these girls enchant and repulse, like life, like our very selves.' Sydney Morning Herald
'Ferrante writes so beautifully that you can't help but become engrossed with the lives, loves and loss of Lila and Elena...will leave readers salivating for the third instalment.' Courier Mail
'[Elena Ferrante's] brilliance isn't limited to her mechanics, her finesse or her creativity as a writer, but it's her willingness to continually address the psychological machinations of women who have very unfeminine feelings.' Three Percent
320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 30, 2013
8793 people are currently reading
78729 people want to read
About the author
Elena Ferrante
38 books19.9k followersElena Ferrante is a pseudonymous Italian novelist. Ferrante's books, originally published in Italian, have been translated into many languages. Her four-book series of Neapolitan Novels are her most widely known works.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 13,958 reviews
August 10, 2015
This book left me speechless.
I've spent the last few weeks reading Ferrante's Neapolitan novels, and I have grown increasingly attached to her two main characters, Elena and Lila. These women are so well-drawn and seem so real that I was anxious about what will happen to them. When I finished this book last night — on the edge of my seat, by the way, because there was yet another dramatic ending — I was so unsteady that I had to rest a moment, pondering the fates of the women.
I refuse to spoil anything for readers who have not yet read these wonderful novels, but I will say that in Book Three, the friendship of Elena and Lila is repeatedly tested. The story covers them from their 20s and into their 30s, and both women experienced significant changes in their careers and families, especially as the political climate of Italy grew more tense and violent.
What I especially liked about this third novel was Elena's foray into feminism and politics as she searched for ways to be involved and for subjects to write about. Through her experiences, we get a crash course in the riots and protests that occurred in the 1960s and '70s as communists fought fascists, and everywhere our heroines turned, they risked violence, either on the street or at home.
When I started the first book earlier this summer, I did not expect to like this series. I thought there were too many characters and nicknames to remember, and I didn't see much point in following around two girls in a poor neighborhood in Naples. But as the girls grew up, I began to appreciate their significance. Now that I have read the first three books, I would compare this series to a tree. In Book One, Ferrante had to plant the seeds of the story — those seeds were the stories and events that Elena and Lila faced as children, and each one has long-lasting consequences. In Books Two and Three, the stories are much deeper and more powerful, because the tree has taken root and is stronger.
For example, who would have thought that when Lila designed a men's shoe in book one, that it would still be talked about in book three? Or that when she held a knife to a man's throat to protect herself and Elena, that it would turn out to be a pivotal point in the story? Or the day that Elena and Lila decided to skip school and walk as far away as they can, that it would hold significance years later?
I think what Ferrante has done here is remarkable for several reasons. First, she has created an incredible story of female friendship, filled with every human emotion, including jealousy, rage, fear, and respect. As I read these books, I wondered why there aren't more novels about female friendship; it seems most modern novels are either about family dynamics or romantic love. (Or some kind of dystopia/apocalypse, but you get my drift.)
I also think these novels are extraordinary for the choices the women make as a way to try and escape poverty: Elena hopes that schooling and moving away will better her life, but Lila is forced to leave school and instead tries marriage, which didn't work out as well as planned. And Book Three is filled with even more choices the women are forced to make, and a few of their decisions are shocking.
This novel is stunning, and I highly recommend this series. Now I have to be patient and wait for Book Four to be published in the U.S.
Favorite Quotes
"How can I explain ... that from the age of six I've been a slave to letters and numbers, that my mood depends on the success of their combinations, that the joy of having done well is rare, unstable, that it lasts an hour, an afternoon, a night?"
"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."
"I couldn't control my restlessness, an eagerness for violation was growing in me, I wanted to break the rules, as the entire world seemed to be breaking the rules. I wanted, even, just once, to break out of marriage, or, why not, everything in my life, what I had learned, what I had written, what I was trying to write, the child I had brought into the world. Ah yes, marriage was a prison."
"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?"
"I concluded that first of all I had to understand better what I was. Investigate my nature as a woman. 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."
"In the fairy tales one does as one wants, and in reality one does what one can."
I've spent the last few weeks reading Ferrante's Neapolitan novels, and I have grown increasingly attached to her two main characters, Elena and Lila. These women are so well-drawn and seem so real that I was anxious about what will happen to them. When I finished this book last night — on the edge of my seat, by the way, because there was yet another dramatic ending — I was so unsteady that I had to rest a moment, pondering the fates of the women.
I refuse to spoil anything for readers who have not yet read these wonderful novels, but I will say that in Book Three, the friendship of Elena and Lila is repeatedly tested. The story covers them from their 20s and into their 30s, and both women experienced significant changes in their careers and families, especially as the political climate of Italy grew more tense and violent.
What I especially liked about this third novel was Elena's foray into feminism and politics as she searched for ways to be involved and for subjects to write about. Through her experiences, we get a crash course in the riots and protests that occurred in the 1960s and '70s as communists fought fascists, and everywhere our heroines turned, they risked violence, either on the street or at home.
When I started the first book earlier this summer, I did not expect to like this series. I thought there were too many characters and nicknames to remember, and I didn't see much point in following around two girls in a poor neighborhood in Naples. But as the girls grew up, I began to appreciate their significance. Now that I have read the first three books, I would compare this series to a tree. In Book One, Ferrante had to plant the seeds of the story — those seeds were the stories and events that Elena and Lila faced as children, and each one has long-lasting consequences. In Books Two and Three, the stories are much deeper and more powerful, because the tree has taken root and is stronger.
For example, who would have thought that when Lila designed a men's shoe in book one, that it would still be talked about in book three? Or that when she held a knife to a man's throat to protect herself and Elena, that it would turn out to be a pivotal point in the story? Or the day that Elena and Lila decided to skip school and walk as far away as they can, that it would hold significance years later?
"I can't wait to leave [the neighborhood]," I exclaimed.
"You're strong," [Lila] answered, to my astonishment. "I have never been. The better and truer you feel, the farther away you go. If I merely pass through the tunnel of the stradone, I'm scared. Remember when we tried to get to the sea but it started raining? Which of us wanted to keep going and which of us made an about-face, you or me?"
[Elena wanted to keep going, by the way]
I think what Ferrante has done here is remarkable for several reasons. First, she has created an incredible story of female friendship, filled with every human emotion, including jealousy, rage, fear, and respect. As I read these books, I wondered why there aren't more novels about female friendship; it seems most modern novels are either about family dynamics or romantic love. (Or some kind of dystopia/apocalypse, but you get my drift.)
I also think these novels are extraordinary for the choices the women make as a way to try and escape poverty: Elena hopes that schooling and moving away will better her life, but Lila is forced to leave school and instead tries marriage, which didn't work out as well as planned. And Book Three is filled with even more choices the women are forced to make, and a few of their decisions are shocking.
I sometimes imagined what my life and Lila's would have been if we had both taken the test for admission to middle school and then high school, if together we had studied to get our degree, elbow to elbow, allied, a perfect couple, the sum of intellectual energies, of the pleasures of understanding and the imagination. We would have written together, we would have been authors together, we would have drawn power from each other, we would have fought shoulder to shoulder because what was ours was inimitably ours. The solitude of women's minds is regrettable, I said to myself, it's a waste to be separated from each other, without procedures, without tradition.
This novel is stunning, and I highly recommend this series. Now I have to be patient and wait for Book Four to be published in the U.S.
Favorite Quotes
"How can I explain ... that from the age of six I've been a slave to letters and numbers, that my mood depends on the success of their combinations, that the joy of having done well is rare, unstable, that it lasts an hour, an afternoon, a night?"
"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."
"I couldn't control my restlessness, an eagerness for violation was growing in me, I wanted to break the rules, as the entire world seemed to be breaking the rules. I wanted, even, just once, to break out of marriage, or, why not, everything in my life, what I had learned, what I had written, what I was trying to write, the child I had brought into the world. Ah yes, marriage was a prison."
"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?"
"I concluded that first of all I had to understand better what I was. Investigate my nature as a woman. 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."
"In the fairy tales one does as one wants, and in reality one does what one can."
October 27, 2015
I NEVER WANT TO READ ABOUT NINO AGAIN
-------
Okay, I've calmed down enough to write a review (more like a "review") so that I can move on to the next book. This installment was the most frustrating one to read thus far. It feels disjointed and the entire middle of the book is sloooooow. It's hard to tell if this is an artistic choice - does the reader have to experience the same sort of ennui that Elena does as a new mother? if so, are hundreds of pages appropriate? - or if the story simply drags out this period of Elena's life for too long.
My main problem is that this book is not about Lila and Elena. This book is about Nino Sarratore. Nominally, this book is about the two women that we've been following for three books now. Lila goes to work in terrible conditions in a sausage factory; Elena marries a Nice Boy from a slightly higher social class than her own and has a child; the two intersect, memorably, only a few times over the course of their twenties and thirties. But Nino keeps dipping in and out of their lives, whether he's showing up at Elena's book reading, appearing offscreen as the baby daddy of a fellow activist, or becoming friends with Elena's husband through work. Nino's appearances propel the action forward and give Elena new purposes and meaning. By the end, .
There are a few elements that I really loved. As Lila and Elena enter the real world outside of the neighborhood, Elena discovers feminism and Lila becomes a working-class hero, exposing the dangers of the factory she works in. There are shifting relationships between Elena and her family, especially when . Politics and the changing cultural landscape of Italy pervade the background, and sometimes the foreground:
Ferrante's blinding talent is writing truthfully (even as Lila rails against the very idea of doing things "truthfully"), and there are certain sentences and turns of phrase in this book that made me start fervently taking notes, highlighting, thinking about them again and again, turning them over in my head. Ideas in Ferrante's hands feel fresh and revolutionary and new, and that's why I keep coming back to these books. (I loved her Paris Review interview.) Once her characters are in a situation and have to live with the consequences, she's able to turn her insightful prose to and narrow her focus on that particular problem. It's getting from Situation A to Situation B that seems to be more difficult for her in this book.
So much of this book is based on the soap opera of Nino and who he's currently interested in sleeping with. The relationships never make sense to me. The seesaw between Lila and Elena feels cheap, a too-obvious manifestation of the give and take friendship between them (as Lila says, "We made a pact when we were children: I'm the wicked one"). The ending is explosive only because something actually happens after pages and pages of nothing. I really hope that the next book can engage with the heavy questions that Ferrante obviously wants to without getting bogged back down in a soap opera.
-------
Okay, I've calmed down enough to write a review (more like a "review") so that I can move on to the next book. This installment was the most frustrating one to read thus far. It feels disjointed and the entire middle of the book is sloooooow. It's hard to tell if this is an artistic choice - does the reader have to experience the same sort of ennui that Elena does as a new mother? if so, are hundreds of pages appropriate? - or if the story simply drags out this period of Elena's life for too long.
My main problem is that this book is not about Lila and Elena. This book is about Nino Sarratore. Nominally, this book is about the two women that we've been following for three books now. Lila goes to work in terrible conditions in a sausage factory; Elena marries a Nice Boy from a slightly higher social class than her own and has a child; the two intersect, memorably, only a few times over the course of their twenties and thirties. But Nino keeps dipping in and out of their lives, whether he's showing up at Elena's book reading, appearing offscreen as the baby daddy of a fellow activist, or becoming friends with Elena's husband through work. Nino's appearances propel the action forward and give Elena new purposes and meaning. By the end, .
There are a few elements that I really loved. As Lila and Elena enter the real world outside of the neighborhood, Elena discovers feminism and Lila becomes a working-class hero, exposing the dangers of the factory she works in. There are shifting relationships between Elena and her family, especially when . Politics and the changing cultural landscape of Italy pervade the background, and sometimes the foreground:
And at least Enzo in front of him, in the factory, women worn out by the work, by humiliations, by domestic obligations no less than Lila was. Yet now they were both angry because of the conditions she worked in; they couldn’t tolerate it. You had to hide everything from men. They preferred not to know, they preferred to pretend that what happened at the hands of the boss miraculously didn’t happen to the women important to them and that—this was the idea they had grown up with—they had to protect her even at the risk of being killed. In the face of that silence Lila got even angrier. “Fuck off,” she said, “you and the working class.”
Ferrante's blinding talent is writing truthfully (even as Lila rails against the very idea of doing things "truthfully"), and there are certain sentences and turns of phrase in this book that made me start fervently taking notes, highlighting, thinking about them again and again, turning them over in my head. Ideas in Ferrante's hands feel fresh and revolutionary and new, and that's why I keep coming back to these books. (I loved her Paris Review interview.) Once her characters are in a situation and have to live with the consequences, she's able to turn her insightful prose to and narrow her focus on that particular problem. It's getting from Situation A to Situation B that seems to be more difficult for her in this book.
So much of this book is based on the soap opera of Nino and who he's currently interested in sleeping with. The relationships never make sense to me. The seesaw between Lila and Elena feels cheap, a too-obvious manifestation of the give and take friendship between them (as Lila says, "We made a pact when we were children: I'm the wicked one"). The ending is explosive only because something actually happens after pages and pages of nothing. I really hope that the next book can engage with the heavy questions that Ferrante obviously wants to without getting bogged back down in a soap opera.
May 10, 2022
if nino sarratore has a million haters then I am one of them. if nino sarratore has ten haters then I am one of them. if nino sarratore has only one hater then that is me. if nino sarratore has no haters then that means I am no longer on earth
August 1, 2017
I finished this today, the day Elena Ferrante’s identity has reportedly been revealed. I confess I feel a bit guilty now because while reading this there were several times I found myself wishing I knew how much was fiction and how much autobiography. I wondered this because it struck me that when Lila disappears from the pages so too does the electric charge Ferrante’s writing has. Ferrante writes well about Elena’s initiation into university life, the Milan literati, Italian political unrest, about marriage, child rearing, and infidelity but not markedly better than lots of other writers. The best parts of this book were when Lila returned. For me, no Lila, no party. And Lila is absent for a lot of this book. So I couldn’t help wondering if Lila, Ferrante’s muse, is a real person. Did she luck out as an author in having such a compelling brilliant friend or is she an inspired invention of Ferrante’s? It doesn’t really matter but I was curious.
If this disreputable journalist/culture - yet another indictment of how misplaced and trivial investigative journalism has become. How about spending your time and energy on uncovering secrets of corruption and conspiracy in governments and multi-national corporations, guys, instead of harassing a writer? - is right then it turns out these Neapolitan novels are even more a triumph of imagination than perhaps they would have been perceived were they a literary transcription of Ferrante’s personal experience. Because we discover Ferrante, though born in Naples, moved to Rome when three and had a German mother who fled to Italy to escape the Holocaust. It always struck me that the descriptions of Naples were quite generic – could have been Bari or Palermo or Reggio Calabria or even Rome minus an occasional ocean. The same is true in this book of Pisa and Florence where Elena finds herself. I never really felt she was in Pisa or Florence. She could have been in any Italian university town. The settings were perhaps Ferrante's way of concealing her tracks.
Ferrante was always going to have a problem keeping her anonymity because of the apparent intense realism of her work - you can't help wondering how much is true while reading her. The irony for me is that these books were never about Naples, or at least specific to Naples. In fact it doesn’t surprise me at all that she never lived in Naples for long. And yet it’s the depiction of Naples that has caused a lot of the fuss. They are about the difficulties women face to achieve autonomy and identity in any milieu where men still often have the final word – as such they could be set in Bagdad or Birmingham, Rome or Nairobi. It’s interesting that in Italy many have claimed her books were written by a man and even now there’s talk they were written by this translator’s husband. Would even that matter? It says a lot about Italy which, though I’d argue is not generally misogynistic, does tend to be chauvinistic – the disparagement of women more an intellectual insecurity than an emotional distaste). Were her books written by a man it’d certainly be a phenomenal achievement because Ferrante, whoever she is, will probably go down in history as one of the very best exponents of unravelling the inner lives of women.
So, yep this was really good too, though not quite as good as Book Two. Interestingly and for the first time Elena isn't always likeable in this book - often you feel because the wise and inspirational influence of Lina is not at hand. And it ends on a real cliffhanger and I’m annoyed I didn’t already buy the forth book cos now I have to wait for it to arrive.
I only hope Ferrante doesn’t stop writing now that her privacy has been so crudely invaded.
If this disreputable journalist/culture - yet another indictment of how misplaced and trivial investigative journalism has become. How about spending your time and energy on uncovering secrets of corruption and conspiracy in governments and multi-national corporations, guys, instead of harassing a writer? - is right then it turns out these Neapolitan novels are even more a triumph of imagination than perhaps they would have been perceived were they a literary transcription of Ferrante’s personal experience. Because we discover Ferrante, though born in Naples, moved to Rome when three and had a German mother who fled to Italy to escape the Holocaust. It always struck me that the descriptions of Naples were quite generic – could have been Bari or Palermo or Reggio Calabria or even Rome minus an occasional ocean. The same is true in this book of Pisa and Florence where Elena finds herself. I never really felt she was in Pisa or Florence. She could have been in any Italian university town. The settings were perhaps Ferrante's way of concealing her tracks.
Ferrante was always going to have a problem keeping her anonymity because of the apparent intense realism of her work - you can't help wondering how much is true while reading her. The irony for me is that these books were never about Naples, or at least specific to Naples. In fact it doesn’t surprise me at all that she never lived in Naples for long. And yet it’s the depiction of Naples that has caused a lot of the fuss. They are about the difficulties women face to achieve autonomy and identity in any milieu where men still often have the final word – as such they could be set in Bagdad or Birmingham, Rome or Nairobi. It’s interesting that in Italy many have claimed her books were written by a man and even now there’s talk they were written by this translator’s husband. Would even that matter? It says a lot about Italy which, though I’d argue is not generally misogynistic, does tend to be chauvinistic – the disparagement of women more an intellectual insecurity than an emotional distaste). Were her books written by a man it’d certainly be a phenomenal achievement because Ferrante, whoever she is, will probably go down in history as one of the very best exponents of unravelling the inner lives of women.
So, yep this was really good too, though not quite as good as Book Two. Interestingly and for the first time Elena isn't always likeable in this book - often you feel because the wise and inspirational influence of Lina is not at hand. And it ends on a real cliffhanger and I’m annoyed I didn’t already buy the forth book cos now I have to wait for it to arrive.
I only hope Ferrante doesn’t stop writing now that her privacy has been so crudely invaded.
September 27, 2025
و من قال ان الرحيل دوما شر و البقاء جيد للأبد؟
فدوران عجلة الزمن يسقط من في القمم للقاع و يعلي اهل القاع لسطح لم يتألفوا معه..وفي رحلة الصعود تسقط الاقنعة و يرحل من يرحل و يبقى من يتحمل
و لكن تظل رحلة الهروب الكبير للنساء هي:الهروب من الانوثة؛رموزها؛معوقاتهاو اعباؤها
و عبر سنوات الرصاص الحرجة في تاريخ ايطاليا و تحول اليسار الاشتراكي لألوية عسكرية حمراء؛ سنرى من هرب و من بقى عبر تسع سنوات جديدة من حياة الينا/ليلا
بسرد كلاسيكي/ شيطاني اعتدنا انه: يقرأنا و لا نقرأه
من هرب و من بقى؟
الرجال لديهم عادة رذيلة تسقط اقنعتهم و يتحولون الي مسوخ على حين غرة
هناك الفارغ كقاع بئر سحيق~
هناك من يتحول لدخان اسود يخنقك "ا~
و يعتبر"الهاربون و الباقون"هو جزء سقوط الاقنعة بجدارة؛عائلات بكاملها تسقط اقنعتها..لن تجد فرقا بين مؤمن و شيوعي؛ هنا الاغلبية الساحقة ستسقط في اختبار المال و القوة
و سيبسط الموت جناحيه على شخصيات الرواية ؛ستبدا بموت و تنتهي بموت
تعرف الانثى غريزيا و مبكرا ان الانقاذ دوما بيد الرجل و تعتقد انها تختار"الاقدر و الاصلح"لظروفها و يتحول منقذها ل:نصيبها و مهما كانت قدراتها على الترويض ستنهار اسطورة: الانقاذ
من بقى و من هرب؟
كالعادة ليلا دوما سابقة لايلينا بخطوتين ..تدفع ثمنا فادحا لزواجها المزري الخالي من الاحترام و الحب..تسحقها "سنوات الرصاص كعاملة في ظروف أليمة لا آدمية و تجد نفسها فجاة من رموز "اليسار" رغما عنها
و كالعادة مع هبوط ليلا تتألق الينا و يصعد نجمها كروائية
الينا تنضم لاسرة رفيعة الشأن ثقافيا و سياسيا و اجتماعيا بزواجها من البروفيسور الشاب :بيتيرو ايروتا و مع احباطات الزواج و الحمل المبكر و اعباء الامومة الشرسة و احتباس الالهام و تواري الموهبة يسقط قناع الرضا و التهذيب عن وجه الينا تدريجيا
من هرب و من بقى؟*
ستدرك كلتاهما للاسف ان خصالها الذكورية/العقلية هي الضامن الوحيد للارتقاء"المستقل" و لكن في ظل تردي مخيف للاقتصاد و تهاوى الشعور بالامن
هل تكفي جهودك؟
ام ستعود اخلاقيات و تنازلات فترة مابعد الحرب؟
و هذا الجزء سيثير في نفس القاريء تساؤلات عن تلك الاتفاقية القديمة التي اجرتها الفتاتين : فلتكن ليلا هي الشريرة و الينا الطيبة؟ حقا؟
تلجا ليلا اخيرا الى قدراتها العقلية الفذة و ينطلق المارد من القمقم و في انطلاقها ..ستقرر ان تفوز بما يمنحه لها "الكل" من مميزات
عندما تدمر احلام ماضيك :هل يبقى حاضرك؟ *
الينا تلك الفتاة التي تعلمت بنقود البقشيش و استعملت ادب القرود دوما للتسلق عبر الطبقات؛ هدفها و شغفها و رسالة حياتها انحصرت في الفوز بالقبول الاجتماعي و ما ان حصلت على القبول
تتحول الينا فجاة الى"بطران اخرته قطران" طبعا و هي تتساءل
لماذا المفروض على الحفاظ على ما لم انجح في فعله؟*
احيانا يكون في رحيل البعض: جنة
و في بقاء البعض: جحيم
لن تنهدم الدنيا و لن تغلق الابواب
فليبقى من يبقى و يرحل من يرحل
فدوران عجلة الزمن يسقط من في القمم للقاع و يعلي اهل القاع لسطح لم يتألفوا معه..وفي رحلة الصعود تسقط الاقنعة و يرحل من يرحل و يبقى من يتحمل
و لكن تظل رحلة الهروب الكبير للنساء هي:الهروب من الانوثة؛رموزها؛معوقاتهاو اعباؤها
و عبر سنوات الرصاص الحرجة في تاريخ ايطاليا و تحول اليسار الاشتراكي لألوية عسكرية حمراء؛ سنرى من هرب و من بقى عبر تسع سنوات جديدة من حياة الينا/ليلا
بسرد كلاسيكي/ شيطاني اعتدنا انه: يقرأنا و لا نقرأه
من هرب و من بقى؟
الرجال لديهم عادة رذيلة تسقط اقنعتهم و يتحولون الي مسوخ على حين غرة
هناك الفارغ كقاع بئر سحيق~
هناك من يتحول لدخان اسود يخنقك "ا~
و يعتبر"الهاربون و الباقون"هو جزء سقوط الاقنعة بجدارة؛عائلات بكاملها تسقط اقنعتها..لن تجد فرقا بين مؤمن و شيوعي؛ هنا الاغلبية الساحقة ستسقط في اختبار المال و القوة
و سيبسط الموت جناحيه على شخصيات الرواية ؛ستبدا بموت و تنتهي بموت
تعرف الانثى غريزيا و مبكرا ان الانقاذ دوما بيد الرجل و تعتقد انها تختار"الاقدر و الاصلح"لظروفها و يتحول منقذها ل:نصيبها و مهما كانت قدراتها على الترويض ستنهار اسطورة: الانقاذ
من بقى و من هرب؟
كالعادة ليلا دوما سابقة لايلينا بخطوتين ..تدفع ثمنا فادحا لزواجها المزري الخالي من الاحترام و الحب..تسحقها "سنوات الرصاص كعاملة في ظروف أليمة لا آدمية و تجد نفسها فجاة من رموز "اليسار" رغما عنها
و كالعادة مع هبوط ليلا تتألق الينا و يصعد نجمها كروائية
الينا تنضم لاسرة رفيعة الشأن ثقافيا و سياسيا و اجتماعيا بزواجها من البروفيسور الشاب :بيتيرو ايروتا و مع احباطات الزواج و الحمل المبكر و اعباء الامومة الشرسة و احتباس الالهام و تواري الموهبة يسقط قناع الرضا و التهذيب عن وجه الينا تدريجيا
من هرب و من بقى؟*
ستدرك كلتاهما للاسف ان خصالها الذكورية/العقلية هي الضامن الوحيد للارتقاء"المستقل" و لكن في ظل تردي مخيف للاقتصاد و تهاوى الشعور بالامن
هل تكفي جهودك؟
ام ستعود اخلاقيات و تنازلات فترة مابعد الحرب؟
و هذا الجزء سيثير في نفس القاريء تساؤلات عن تلك الاتفاقية القديمة التي اجرتها الفتاتين : فلتكن ليلا هي الشريرة و الينا الطيبة؟ حقا؟
تلجا ليلا اخيرا الى قدراتها العقلية الفذة و ينطلق المارد من القمقم و في انطلاقها ..ستقرر ان تفوز بما يمنحه لها "الكل" من مميزات
عندما تدمر احلام ماضيك :هل يبقى حاضرك؟ *
الينا تلك الفتاة التي تعلمت بنقود البقشيش و استعملت ادب القرود دوما للتسلق عبر الطبقات؛ هدفها و شغفها و رسالة حياتها انحصرت في الفوز بالقبول الاجتماعي و ما ان حصلت على القبول
تتحول الينا فجاة الى"بطران اخرته قطران" طبعا و هي تتساءل
لماذا المفروض على الحفاظ على ما لم انجح في فعله؟*
احيانا يكون في رحيل البعض: جنة
و في بقاء البعض: جحيم
لن تنهدم الدنيا و لن تغلق الابواب
فليبقى من يبقى و يرحل من يرحل
August 25, 2024
SEI PROPRIO UNA BRAVA RAGAZZA, POVERA TE
La terza stagione della serie HBO-RAI tratta da questo romanzo è in lavorazione: a differenza delle precedenti due dirette da Saverio Costanzo, questa ha Daniele Luchetti alla regia.
Due nomi, belli come Elena e Raffaella, storpiati in Lenù e Lina, o Lila.
Due donne, belle, intelligenti, sensibili, con almeno una marcia in più, rivoltate come calzini, esplorate nei loro sentimenti più ingarbugliati e molesti, scandagliate, scarnificate, messe a nudo negli aspetti peggiori, al punto che la mia mediocrità si sente meno sola, e a volte, perfino, superiore.
"La prodigieuse Elena Ferrante" il primo documentario sull'opera letteraria di Elena Ferrante andato in onda sul canale franco-tedesco Arté.
Scavare nelle parole e tra le parole, in quello che ci gonfia e rompe, nel lato oscuro dell’anima, è questo che affascina Ferrante?
La rabbia, la meschinità, anche quando diventa malignità, il peggio che è un flusso continuo di straordinaria potenza, il meglio invece è un'insorgenza felice ma di scarsa forza e durata, è questo che attrae Ferrante?
È questo che mi attrae in Ferrante?
Anche quando mi fa sentire indiscreto, addirittura intruso?
Una storia d'amore è sempre la storia di uno squilibrio. In genere noi pensiamo che lo squilibrio intervenga quando l'amore finisce. In realtà sia le gioie, sia le pene dell'amore - intendo qualsiasi tipo d'amore, da quello materno a quello per il genere umano o per un dio - muovono da uno stato d'eccezione in cui l'essere umano dà il meglio e il peggio di sé proprio perché la norma è sospesa, il punto d'equilibrio è rotto. Un secolo di psicoanalisi ci ha mostrato che la gran parte degli istituti umani fondamentali - dalla famiglia alla religione, non esclusa tra l'altro l'arte del racconto - sono tentativi di mettere Eros al lavoro dentro una normativa, di ridurre il suo squilibrio a un equilibrio. Ma sono tentativi costituzionalmente destinati al fallimento. Nei libri che ho scritto, l'amore o è molesto o non è.
Niamh Cusack nella parte di Lenù e Catherine 'Braveheart' McCormack in quella di Lila.
Ho letto un’ipotesi interessante sul New Yorker (dove Ferrante viene in qualche modo paragonata ad Alice Munro – ma è Elizabeth Strout che le ha pubblicamente reso onore – se devo fare un paragone, io sento che Ferrante è più vicina a Michael Haneke di chiunque altro): potrebbe essere proprio il completo anonimato, il mistero che circonda il nome e la figura di Elena Ferrante, a consentirle di essere così ‘intima’, di penetrare in zone e argomenti ‘tabù’.
Perché sceglie sempre argomenti che sono privati, anche se non necessariamente autobiografici.
Perché sembra sempre esporsi oltre ogni limite, mettersi in gioco con brutale onestà, anche se camuffata nei suoi personaggi.
Come se la sua esistenza dipendesse dall’onestà con cui si mostra.
Anche quando si chiama Lena o Lina.
Elena ‘Lenù’ Greco e Raffaella ‘Lila’ Cerullo bambine interpretate da Elisa Del Genio e Ludovica Nasti.
Ma c’è qualcosa di diverso in questa saga, annunciata come trilogia e poi per strada trasformatasi in quadrilogia, qualcosa di diverso dai primi tre romanzi di Ferrante.
L’universo femminile e l’amore sono sempre al centro della narrazione, come lo è la rabbia delle donne che hanno sempre un cammino più lungo e più in salita da percorrere per raggiungere quelle stesse mete che agli uomini sono destinate per legge divina (in realtà, legge molto molto umana, anzi proprio del tutto subumana) - anche qui una scomparsa avvia il lungo racconto come già la scomparsa del marito apriva I giorni dell’abbandono, quella della madre L’amore molesto e quella della figlia La figlia oscura (qui si tratta di Lila, la coprotagonista): ma c’è l'abbandono di qualsiasi distanza col lettore, c’è la scelta di parole per volerlo piuttosto coinvolgere, portare vicino, e dentro, a contatto – il bisogno di raccontare, di comunicare, di essere compresa, che spinge verso una scrittura più ‘accessibile' del solito, verso una densa leggerezza.
E un ritmo più serrato e più frenetico.
Il racconto in prima persona arriva spesso attraverso dialoghi riportati, come non mi pare d’aver mai riscontrato in altri narratori.
Ed è un racconto ricco di colpi di scena come non è mai stato prima nell’opera di questa misteriosa scrittrice, che utilizza a piene mani gli strumenti del romanzo più classico, tutti quelli che servono alla storia e ai personaggi, e le pagine finali dei miei libri tendono a conclusioni che, dall'interno delle stesse parole che acquietano, lanciano segnali di inquietudine.
Al centro Saverio Costanzo, regista perfetto per l’impresa di portare sul piccolo schermo la tetralogia ferrantiana.
… forse, di fronte all’abbandono, siamo tutti uguali…
La terza stagione della serie HBO-RAI tratta da questo romanzo è in lavorazione: a differenza delle precedenti due dirette da Saverio Costanzo, questa ha Daniele Luchetti alla regia.
Due nomi, belli come Elena e Raffaella, storpiati in Lenù e Lina, o Lila.
Due donne, belle, intelligenti, sensibili, con almeno una marcia in più, rivoltate come calzini, esplorate nei loro sentimenti più ingarbugliati e molesti, scandagliate, scarnificate, messe a nudo negli aspetti peggiori, al punto che la mia mediocrità si sente meno sola, e a volte, perfino, superiore.
"La prodigieuse Elena Ferrante" il primo documentario sull'opera letteraria di Elena Ferrante andato in onda sul canale franco-tedesco Arté.
Scavare nelle parole e tra le parole, in quello che ci gonfia e rompe, nel lato oscuro dell’anima, è questo che affascina Ferrante?
La rabbia, la meschinità, anche quando diventa malignità, il peggio che è un flusso continuo di straordinaria potenza, il meglio invece è un'insorgenza felice ma di scarsa forza e durata, è questo che attrae Ferrante?
È questo che mi attrae in Ferrante?
Anche quando mi fa sentire indiscreto, addirittura intruso?
Una storia d'amore è sempre la storia di uno squilibrio. In genere noi pensiamo che lo squilibrio intervenga quando l'amore finisce. In realtà sia le gioie, sia le pene dell'amore - intendo qualsiasi tipo d'amore, da quello materno a quello per il genere umano o per un dio - muovono da uno stato d'eccezione in cui l'essere umano dà il meglio e il peggio di sé proprio perché la norma è sospesa, il punto d'equilibrio è rotto. Un secolo di psicoanalisi ci ha mostrato che la gran parte degli istituti umani fondamentali - dalla famiglia alla religione, non esclusa tra l'altro l'arte del racconto - sono tentativi di mettere Eros al lavoro dentro una normativa, di ridurre il suo squilibrio a un equilibrio. Ma sono tentativi costituzionalmente destinati al fallimento. Nei libri che ho scritto, l'amore o è molesto o non è.
Niamh Cusack nella parte di Lenù e Catherine 'Braveheart' McCormack in quella di Lila.
Ho letto un’ipotesi interessante sul New Yorker (dove Ferrante viene in qualche modo paragonata ad Alice Munro – ma è Elizabeth Strout che le ha pubblicamente reso onore – se devo fare un paragone, io sento che Ferrante è più vicina a Michael Haneke di chiunque altro): potrebbe essere proprio il completo anonimato, il mistero che circonda il nome e la figura di Elena Ferrante, a consentirle di essere così ‘intima’, di penetrare in zone e argomenti ‘tabù’.
Perché sceglie sempre argomenti che sono privati, anche se non necessariamente autobiografici.
Perché sembra sempre esporsi oltre ogni limite, mettersi in gioco con brutale onestà, anche se camuffata nei suoi personaggi.
Come se la sua esistenza dipendesse dall’onestà con cui si mostra.
Anche quando si chiama Lena o Lina.
Elena ‘Lenù’ Greco e Raffaella ‘Lila’ Cerullo bambine interpretate da Elisa Del Genio e Ludovica Nasti.
Ma c’è qualcosa di diverso in questa saga, annunciata come trilogia e poi per strada trasformatasi in quadrilogia, qualcosa di diverso dai primi tre romanzi di Ferrante.
L’universo femminile e l’amore sono sempre al centro della narrazione, come lo è la rabbia delle donne che hanno sempre un cammino più lungo e più in salita da percorrere per raggiungere quelle stesse mete che agli uomini sono destinate per legge divina (in realtà, legge molto molto umana, anzi proprio del tutto subumana) - anche qui una scomparsa avvia il lungo racconto come già la scomparsa del marito apriva I giorni dell’abbandono, quella della madre L’amore molesto e quella della figlia La figlia oscura (qui si tratta di Lila, la coprotagonista): ma c’è l'abbandono di qualsiasi distanza col lettore, c’è la scelta di parole per volerlo piuttosto coinvolgere, portare vicino, e dentro, a contatto – il bisogno di raccontare, di comunicare, di essere compresa, che spinge verso una scrittura più ‘accessibile' del solito, verso una densa leggerezza.
E un ritmo più serrato e più frenetico.
Il racconto in prima persona arriva spesso attraverso dialoghi riportati, come non mi pare d’aver mai riscontrato in altri narratori.
Ed è un racconto ricco di colpi di scena come non è mai stato prima nell’opera di questa misteriosa scrittrice, che utilizza a piene mani gli strumenti del romanzo più classico, tutti quelli che servono alla storia e ai personaggi, e le pagine finali dei miei libri tendono a conclusioni che, dall'interno delle stesse parole che acquietano, lanciano segnali di inquietudine.
Al centro Saverio Costanzo, regista perfetto per l’impresa di portare sul piccolo schermo la tetralogia ferrantiana.
… forse, di fronte all’abbandono, siamo tutti uguali…
March 12, 2025
[From Le nouveau nom]
I wrote and rewrote my review of Elena Ferrante's third volume, but each version I produced seemed stupider than the last; empty words, tired formulas, a well-crafted and earnest nullity of expression. In the end, although I had promised myself I would not do so, I emailed the draft to my friend and asked for her advice. An hour later, she skyped me back.
"So what do you expect me to do?" she asked. She seemed to be in a particularly bad mood. "You're the reviewer. You understand this shit. I haven't written a review in years."
"I just wondered if you could look at it," I said. "Like you used to."
"Yes," she said scornfully. "Well, you can start by taking out the Proust."
"Have you even--" I began, but she cut me off. "She's nothing like Proust," she said. "Proust's just a French ponce who spends a million words boring you to death about how he became a writer. Ferrante never bores you. It looks like she's doing the Proust thing with memory and time and art, but it's quite different. You don't understand Proust at all."
I was cut to the quick; I prided myself on my knowledge of Proust, which I had acquired through years of diligent study. She continued. "And you can take out Knausgård too. Jesus Christ, he's worst than Proust. He takes even longer to explain that novelists are fascists, you know that's going to be the punchline by page two."
As usual, I already felt helplessly lost. All I could do was nod. "And Simone de Beauvoir," she said. "Well, that was better. The style's not so different. And it is a bit like Les Mandarins. Sex and violence and disgusting hypocritical intellectuals. You can leave Simone in."
When had she found time to read all these books? She said she never read any more.
"Then what--" I began again. "You need to move downmarket," she said. "Stephenie Meyer. Twilight. Vampires."
"Vampires?" I said weakly. "But what in the text could possibly--"
"It's right there in chapter 122," she said. "Fuck me dead, don't you people see anything you aren't expecting to see? Lila calls Nino a blood-sucking vampire. And he is. This book is Twilight for people who at least have a quarter of a brain. Elena is Bella, a stupid little bookish girl who can't write and can't think and lies to herself all the time, and understands that the only way out is to find a vampire who'll rescue her. No matter what it costs. I've got to go."
She hung up before I could answer. I wished now that I hadn't called her, but it was too late.
[To L'enfant perdue]
I wrote and rewrote my review of Elena Ferrante's third volume, but each version I produced seemed stupider than the last; empty words, tired formulas, a well-crafted and earnest nullity of expression. In the end, although I had promised myself I would not do so, I emailed the draft to my friend and asked for her advice. An hour later, she skyped me back.
"So what do you expect me to do?" she asked. She seemed to be in a particularly bad mood. "You're the reviewer. You understand this shit. I haven't written a review in years."
"I just wondered if you could look at it," I said. "Like you used to."
"Yes," she said scornfully. "Well, you can start by taking out the Proust."
"Have you even--" I began, but she cut me off. "She's nothing like Proust," she said. "Proust's just a French ponce who spends a million words boring you to death about how he became a writer. Ferrante never bores you. It looks like she's doing the Proust thing with memory and time and art, but it's quite different. You don't understand Proust at all."
I was cut to the quick; I prided myself on my knowledge of Proust, which I had acquired through years of diligent study. She continued. "And you can take out Knausgård too. Jesus Christ, he's worst than Proust. He takes even longer to explain that novelists are fascists, you know that's going to be the punchline by page two."
As usual, I already felt helplessly lost. All I could do was nod. "And Simone de Beauvoir," she said. "Well, that was better. The style's not so different. And it is a bit like Les Mandarins. Sex and violence and disgusting hypocritical intellectuals. You can leave Simone in."
When had she found time to read all these books? She said she never read any more.
"Then what--" I began again. "You need to move downmarket," she said. "Stephenie Meyer. Twilight. Vampires."
"Vampires?" I said weakly. "But what in the text could possibly--"
"It's right there in chapter 122," she said. "Fuck me dead, don't you people see anything you aren't expecting to see? Lila calls Nino a blood-sucking vampire. And he is. This book is Twilight for people who at least have a quarter of a brain. Elena is Bella, a stupid little bookish girl who can't write and can't think and lies to herself all the time, and understands that the only way out is to find a vampire who'll rescue her. No matter what it costs. I've got to go."
She hung up before I could answer. I wished now that I hadn't called her, but it was too late.
[To L'enfant perdue]
August 15, 2019
”Each of us narrates our life as it suits us.” ~Lila Cerullo
Mount Vesuvius simmers on the edges of Naples, a dragon in slumber, a metaphor for the rumbling, teeming city that erupts in violence without warning. The view of the volcano's hulking presence, seen through the windows of an upscale apartment, serves as proof that one has risen above the squalor of “the neighborhood” to arrive in the loftier heights. But no amount of money or education can sand away the rough resentments of those raised to fight for every scrap of power.
Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, the third installment of Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels quartet, strikes me as the most intimate of the books. For it is here that Elena Greco turns from her past, staying away Naples for years at a time, closing the door on the embarrassment of her family and the simmering envy of her best friend, Lila Cerullo. We see more of Elena’s internal life than we’ve seen in the previous books as we follow her into marriage and motherhood. Elena Ferrante has admitted that much of her Neapolitan Novels is autobiographical and in Elena Greco we realize the irony of a young writer surrounded by profound social change, struggling to absorb and understand it, aching to write about it, yet confounded by her sexual awakening and domestic demands. She has defied the preordained path of marriage, children, poverty and drudgery by leaving Naples, completing university and becoming a celebrated author, yet now finds herself in exactly the place she was certain she’d escaped: the nursery, the kitchen, losing her singularity in the demands of husband and babies.
This novel is also the most political of Ferrante’s extraordinary bildungsroman. Opening against the backdrop of the 1968 student uprisings in Paris, and carrying into the 1970s Vietnam War protest movement, the clashes in Italy between the communists and neo-fascists, Baader-Meinhof and the rise of the Red Brigade, feminism and the sexual revolution, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay shows the social awakening of a nation through the intelligent but naïve eyes of Elena.
“The Personal is Political,” a phrase coined by feminist Carol Hanisch in 1970, is brought to narrative life by Ferrante’s women. Elena's first novel is selling well and she is infused with a sense of her own relevance. Yet, just as she finds her voice and her star rises, she marries Pietro Airota, the son of her literary champion Adele, and settles in Florence. Pietro, a seemingly liberal and enlightened university professor, balks when Elena expresses her desire not to have children right away; she is a writer and needs the time to continue learning and exploring her craft. But the Pill is not yet legal and Pietro has married her with far different expectations. The birth of two daughters in the first years of her marriage stultifies Elena’s creative intentions and her literary star dims and fades out.
Miles and lifetimes away, where we left her at the end of The Story With A New Name, Lila has become as physically frail as a branch stripped bare. She lives a platonic life with Enzo, after first fleeing her marriage to abusive Stefano and then her lover, the enigmatic Nino, raising her son and grinding through her days at a sausage factory. While Elena, consumed by motherhood, barely glances at the daily newspaper headlines, Lila is at the frontlines of the labor movement, agitating workers by standing up to the abuse and advances of her employer.
This is a novel of fierce and brutal love, of rivalry in marriage, in friendship, in national pride. But at its heart, the Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay is the story of friendship, of the violence we do to those we love the most. Elena and Lila collide and spin away, only to orbit again into each other’s hearts. A phone call after months or years apart picks up their emotional conversation where it last left off, mercurial Lila prodding Elena to become the scholar, the writer, the figure of cultural significance Lila wants her to be, who Lila herself aches to be. They live in the shadows of their shared expectations, trying to push the other into the light. Lila is the novel’s conscience, Elena its irony; together they form the story of social awakening and exploration.
The women and men of these Neapolitan clans are so wholly under my skin, I feel with each page I’m mining my own family’s history. Ferrante writes with such urgency, such angry clarity, that my own psychology is flushed and agitated.
"Too many bad things, and some terrible, had happened over the years, and to regain our old intimacy we would have to speak our secret thoughts, but I didn't have the strength to find the words…," says Elena at the start of Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, looking back on sixty years of friendship. Yet those secret thoughts are offered to the reader in an intimate, vulnerable and enraged portrait of feminine friendship, with Ferrante's beautiful, powerful language. These books are astonishing. I’m already gutted that Book Four, its U.S. release imminent, is the last.
ETA: Interesting article in today's London Review Bookshop: Elena Ferrante on Anonymity
Mount Vesuvius simmers on the edges of Naples, a dragon in slumber, a metaphor for the rumbling, teeming city that erupts in violence without warning. The view of the volcano's hulking presence, seen through the windows of an upscale apartment, serves as proof that one has risen above the squalor of “the neighborhood” to arrive in the loftier heights. But no amount of money or education can sand away the rough resentments of those raised to fight for every scrap of power.
Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, the third installment of Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels quartet, strikes me as the most intimate of the books. For it is here that Elena Greco turns from her past, staying away Naples for years at a time, closing the door on the embarrassment of her family and the simmering envy of her best friend, Lila Cerullo. We see more of Elena’s internal life than we’ve seen in the previous books as we follow her into marriage and motherhood. Elena Ferrante has admitted that much of her Neapolitan Novels is autobiographical and in Elena Greco we realize the irony of a young writer surrounded by profound social change, struggling to absorb and understand it, aching to write about it, yet confounded by her sexual awakening and domestic demands. She has defied the preordained path of marriage, children, poverty and drudgery by leaving Naples, completing university and becoming a celebrated author, yet now finds herself in exactly the place she was certain she’d escaped: the nursery, the kitchen, losing her singularity in the demands of husband and babies.
This novel is also the most political of Ferrante’s extraordinary bildungsroman. Opening against the backdrop of the 1968 student uprisings in Paris, and carrying into the 1970s Vietnam War protest movement, the clashes in Italy between the communists and neo-fascists, Baader-Meinhof and the rise of the Red Brigade, feminism and the sexual revolution, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay shows the social awakening of a nation through the intelligent but naïve eyes of Elena.
“The Personal is Political,” a phrase coined by feminist Carol Hanisch in 1970, is brought to narrative life by Ferrante’s women. Elena's first novel is selling well and she is infused with a sense of her own relevance. Yet, just as she finds her voice and her star rises, she marries Pietro Airota, the son of her literary champion Adele, and settles in Florence. Pietro, a seemingly liberal and enlightened university professor, balks when Elena expresses her desire not to have children right away; she is a writer and needs the time to continue learning and exploring her craft. But the Pill is not yet legal and Pietro has married her with far different expectations. The birth of two daughters in the first years of her marriage stultifies Elena’s creative intentions and her literary star dims and fades out.
Miles and lifetimes away, where we left her at the end of The Story With A New Name, Lila has become as physically frail as a branch stripped bare. She lives a platonic life with Enzo, after first fleeing her marriage to abusive Stefano and then her lover, the enigmatic Nino, raising her son and grinding through her days at a sausage factory. While Elena, consumed by motherhood, barely glances at the daily newspaper headlines, Lila is at the frontlines of the labor movement, agitating workers by standing up to the abuse and advances of her employer.
This is a novel of fierce and brutal love, of rivalry in marriage, in friendship, in national pride. But at its heart, the Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay is the story of friendship, of the violence we do to those we love the most. Elena and Lila collide and spin away, only to orbit again into each other’s hearts. A phone call after months or years apart picks up their emotional conversation where it last left off, mercurial Lila prodding Elena to become the scholar, the writer, the figure of cultural significance Lila wants her to be, who Lila herself aches to be. They live in the shadows of their shared expectations, trying to push the other into the light. Lila is the novel’s conscience, Elena its irony; together they form the story of social awakening and exploration.
The women and men of these Neapolitan clans are so wholly under my skin, I feel with each page I’m mining my own family’s history. Ferrante writes with such urgency, such angry clarity, that my own psychology is flushed and agitated.
"Too many bad things, and some terrible, had happened over the years, and to regain our old intimacy we would have to speak our secret thoughts, but I didn't have the strength to find the words…," says Elena at the start of Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, looking back on sixty years of friendship. Yet those secret thoughts are offered to the reader in an intimate, vulnerable and enraged portrait of feminine friendship, with Ferrante's beautiful, powerful language. These books are astonishing. I’m already gutted that Book Four, its U.S. release imminent, is the last.
ETA: Interesting article in today's London Review Bookshop: Elena Ferrante on Anonymity
August 23, 2017
Each book in the Neapolitan series has its different delights. In Volume One, My Brilliant Friend, it was childhood, education and ambition. In Volume Two, The Story of a New Name, the zombie-like mindlessness of youthful sexual awakening. Here, its wealth and poverty and the irrationality of lovers.
Author Ferrante shows us why Communism was embraced by so many hardworking Italians. Her tale may be beholden to Ignazio Silone, yet it gives one a compelling understanding of the hopes and dreams the ideology inspired. That it was still doing so well into the late 1960s, long after the horrors of Stalin had become known, says much about its intoxicating propensities.
At the same time, she crystallizes the awful self-righteous bluster of the class-struggle people, most notably in the drivel espoused by Pasquale. One of the failures of Communism was its sacrifice—always—of the individual to group. Yet while Pasquale is emoting self-righteously—because Lila's declining health prevents her from unionizing a local sausage factory—in his lap sits the radiantly bourgeois Nadia, whom Nino threw over for Lila in Volume 2. Pasquale plays the high moral hand on behalf of the workers, yet it's the woman here who emboldens him to spout the long dead clichés. Pasquale's hypocrisy, not to mention his cavalier attitude to Lila's health, stinks. Even so, the Neapolitans see the Party as a way out, a means of overcoming a brutal, impoverished existence.
I'm most impressed by the detailed abhorrence of motherhood. Has anyone anywhere said it as well? Not in anything I have read. Ferrante shows both sides, the fleeting I-am-the-Earth-Goddess nurturing phase, which is elating, uplifting and brief. But then comes the morning sickness; the murderous hatred, when stressed or tired, of one's own child; the virtual purdah of being a married woman with children during the Sexual Revolution (c. 1970). Lina is positively unhinged by motherhood and warns Lenù of what is to come. But Lenù won't listen, won't admit that her old friend is right. And, my God!—the fights Lenù has with her new husband, the fantasies of other men, the adulterous trysts aborted at the last second. As Alphonso says, "Life is a very ugly business, Lenù." (p.212)
Finally we get to the crux of the title itself. Lenù, who has left Naples, to live in Florence with her academic husband, Pietro, can't understand how the lives of her family and friends in the old neighborhood have changed. She returns to find Lina, who has stayed in Naples, working for Michele Solara, her erstwhile enemy. (The Solaras are all Cammorists.) Her sister Elisa is living in so-called sin with Marcello Solara at the open acquiesce of her termagant mother. All the old neighborhood enemies are dining together lightheartedly. Lenù—there in Elisa and Marcello's flat, with the old neighborhood loan shark Manuela Solara, too—is caught between two worlds. She wants to apply the old enmities of childhood to the current situation, but life in the neighborhood has radically changed. Accommodations have had to be made that, even if only brief, were previously unthinkable.
Lenù and Lila are no longer in sync. Lenù feels they have lost the power to speak intimately and they have. The tetralogy is sold as the ultimate tale of the friendship of two women. But from early on in Volume 2 they fight as much as they harmonize, perhaps more. Light moments become increasingly rare. Lenù is isolated in Florence and Lina in Naples. On the other hand, and I think this is a sign of the times—the action's now set in the mid-1970s—but the utopian socialist vibe being so prevalent there is a strong romanticization of the idea of a womens' collective. It's the same unrealizable dream of the triumph of the proletariat. For better or worse, human beings are driven by a self-interest that knows no gender.
It's not just the splendid clarity and earnest forthrightness of the narration, it's also the way Ferrante maintains the flux of mood that in my view makes these book almost magical, and I mean that in a non-pejorative sense. Sometimes it's one voice, sometimes several—solo, duo, trio etc—so the effect can become somewhat operatic. And it's modulated with an effortlessness throughout. That seeming ease is in my view what makes the novels worth rereading. Ferrante, it finally strikes one, is a writer's writer.
Lenù is a maniac toward the end. One pities Pietro, her husband. She thinks she's still going to be Nino's one and only. Why is she still running after this deadbeat who has left his bastards all over Naples? All this while she's writing of man's dastardly fabrication of women down the ages: rib of Adam to make Eve and so on. Then—finally—Lenù and Nino fuck, as they must, though they are both married by now and it tears the two families apart. You can't warn people. They have to make their own mistakes. They have to screw up and live to regret it.
On to Volume 4...
Author Ferrante shows us why Communism was embraced by so many hardworking Italians. Her tale may be beholden to Ignazio Silone, yet it gives one a compelling understanding of the hopes and dreams the ideology inspired. That it was still doing so well into the late 1960s, long after the horrors of Stalin had become known, says much about its intoxicating propensities.
At the same time, she crystallizes the awful self-righteous bluster of the class-struggle people, most notably in the drivel espoused by Pasquale. One of the failures of Communism was its sacrifice—always—of the individual to group. Yet while Pasquale is emoting self-righteously—because Lila's declining health prevents her from unionizing a local sausage factory—in his lap sits the radiantly bourgeois Nadia, whom Nino threw over for Lila in Volume 2. Pasquale plays the high moral hand on behalf of the workers, yet it's the woman here who emboldens him to spout the long dead clichés. Pasquale's hypocrisy, not to mention his cavalier attitude to Lila's health, stinks. Even so, the Neapolitans see the Party as a way out, a means of overcoming a brutal, impoverished existence.
I'm most impressed by the detailed abhorrence of motherhood. Has anyone anywhere said it as well? Not in anything I have read. Ferrante shows both sides, the fleeting I-am-the-Earth-Goddess nurturing phase, which is elating, uplifting and brief. But then comes the morning sickness; the murderous hatred, when stressed or tired, of one's own child; the virtual purdah of being a married woman with children during the Sexual Revolution (c. 1970). Lina is positively unhinged by motherhood and warns Lenù of what is to come. But Lenù won't listen, won't admit that her old friend is right. And, my God!—the fights Lenù has with her new husband, the fantasies of other men, the adulterous trysts aborted at the last second. As Alphonso says, "Life is a very ugly business, Lenù." (p.212)
Finally we get to the crux of the title itself. Lenù, who has left Naples, to live in Florence with her academic husband, Pietro, can't understand how the lives of her family and friends in the old neighborhood have changed. She returns to find Lina, who has stayed in Naples, working for Michele Solara, her erstwhile enemy. (The Solaras are all Cammorists.) Her sister Elisa is living in so-called sin with Marcello Solara at the open acquiesce of her termagant mother. All the old neighborhood enemies are dining together lightheartedly. Lenù—there in Elisa and Marcello's flat, with the old neighborhood loan shark Manuela Solara, too—is caught between two worlds. She wants to apply the old enmities of childhood to the current situation, but life in the neighborhood has radically changed. Accommodations have had to be made that, even if only brief, were previously unthinkable.
Lenù and Lila are no longer in sync. Lenù feels they have lost the power to speak intimately and they have. The tetralogy is sold as the ultimate tale of the friendship of two women. But from early on in Volume 2 they fight as much as they harmonize, perhaps more. Light moments become increasingly rare. Lenù is isolated in Florence and Lina in Naples. On the other hand, and I think this is a sign of the times—the action's now set in the mid-1970s—but the utopian socialist vibe being so prevalent there is a strong romanticization of the idea of a womens' collective. It's the same unrealizable dream of the triumph of the proletariat. For better or worse, human beings are driven by a self-interest that knows no gender.
Then the wish to telephone her [Lina] returned, to tell her: Listen to what I'm thinking about, please let's talk about it together, you remember what you said about Alfonzo? But the opportunity was gone, lost decades ago. I had to learn to be satisfied with myself. (p. 354)
It's not just the splendid clarity and earnest forthrightness of the narration, it's also the way Ferrante maintains the flux of mood that in my view makes these book almost magical, and I mean that in a non-pejorative sense. Sometimes it's one voice, sometimes several—solo, duo, trio etc—so the effect can become somewhat operatic. And it's modulated with an effortlessness throughout. That seeming ease is in my view what makes the novels worth rereading. Ferrante, it finally strikes one, is a writer's writer.
Lenù is a maniac toward the end. One pities Pietro, her husband. She thinks she's still going to be Nino's one and only. Why is she still running after this deadbeat who has left his bastards all over Naples? All this while she's writing of man's dastardly fabrication of women down the ages: rib of Adam to make Eve and so on. Then—finally—Lenù and Nino fuck, as they must, though they are both married by now and it tears the two families apart. You can't warn people. They have to make their own mistakes. They have to screw up and live to regret it.
On to Volume 4...
December 25, 2018
4.5 stars Review to come. But obviously it was great.
---
Ok, now that I've had time to come up with some thoughts--though, no promises that they will be coherent--I can attempt to write a review of this one. Like the 2 preceding novels in the Neapolitan novels series by the fabulous Elena Ferrante, this one is quite hard to rate on its own. The stories are so dependent on one another, and Ferrante so excellently doles out information that your reading of 1 book in the series seriously affects your perceptions/thoughts/feelings about the previous ones. This novel is no exception.
We learn so much more about adult Lila & Elena. There are equal portions of this novel that focus on each character under a microscope. We go for chapters and chapters without hearing about the other and vice versa. But at the end of the day, their friendship, everything about them as a pair, is central to this novel. And that struggle to balance their dependence on one another with their need to grow up and move on really reflects well the titular dichotomy of Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay. Can I just say, dang, Ferrante comes up with good titles. It's so multi-layered, and the deeper you get into the novel the more you realize how many ways she's twisting it.
Once again, Ferrante treats the reader like an intellectual. She trusts you enough to not hold your hand through every moment, and by doing so, she gives you a much more pleasurable, satisfying and ultimately fantastic read.
---
First read: Feb 23 - March 8, 2016
Second read: Dec 20-24, 2018
---
Ok, now that I've had time to come up with some thoughts--though, no promises that they will be coherent--I can attempt to write a review of this one. Like the 2 preceding novels in the Neapolitan novels series by the fabulous Elena Ferrante, this one is quite hard to rate on its own. The stories are so dependent on one another, and Ferrante so excellently doles out information that your reading of 1 book in the series seriously affects your perceptions/thoughts/feelings about the previous ones. This novel is no exception.
We learn so much more about adult Lila & Elena. There are equal portions of this novel that focus on each character under a microscope. We go for chapters and chapters without hearing about the other and vice versa. But at the end of the day, their friendship, everything about them as a pair, is central to this novel. And that struggle to balance their dependence on one another with their need to grow up and move on really reflects well the titular dichotomy of Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay. Can I just say, dang, Ferrante comes up with good titles. It's so multi-layered, and the deeper you get into the novel the more you realize how many ways she's twisting it.
Once again, Ferrante treats the reader like an intellectual. She trusts you enough to not hold your hand through every moment, and by doing so, she gives you a much more pleasurable, satisfying and ultimately fantastic read.
---
First read: Feb 23 - March 8, 2016
Second read: Dec 20-24, 2018
February 25, 2022
Dramatic, maybe melodramatic at times, but so gripping as the lives of these two women take hold of the reader once again with their complicated friendship. The narration by Elena is introspective, but yet when she speaks of Lila and tells her story, it feels equally as intimate. Once again I was pulled into their lives, caring about them, while not always liking them, thinking about the two little girls from the streets of Naples and where life has taken them.
Life in 1970’s Italy with the messy politics of Communism vs Fascism, the plight of workers, the violence as the backdrop for the messiness of life . The failed marriages, conflicting roles of women as mothers, wives trying to be their own person and of course the continuing tension, jealousy, admiration, and depth of friendship between Lila and Elena are so vividly depicted by Ferrante. Of course, I will read the fourth and final book in the series.
March 21, 2025
Shaking my head in disbelief…
Full review in progress.
Full review in progress.
November 25, 2014
This book was pretty readable and I'm curious to find out what happens to the characters after having read the two previous books in this series but there are literally no likeable characters at all. They're all such insufferable self obsessed arseholes who are hideous to each other and completely self involved. Really weird. I guess I'll read the last one cause this one certainly ended on a cliffhanger.
May 28, 2023
I didn’t like this one as much as the others at first — until I loved it. A lot of politics. I’m not crazy about politics when seen from the periphery of a character’s life: I need it to work closely on the personal. This book did both, showing how the unrest of the 1970s channeled violence between communist and fascist ideologies in working-class Italy. It did not pull back from sexual harassment in the workplace, unionizing, failed marriage and the woman’s right to exit, nor even the violent deaths of those in close community. But Elena, our narrator, tells many of these Naples’ moments from afar, in Florence. [Update: I just started book 4, and the narrator confesses that she hates politics. I can’t help wondering if the reason those parts kept me at a distance in an otherwise immersive work was because of the narrator’s own discomfort with politics, and therefore an inability to integrate them into the book]. Her own story lacked luster without the push-pull of Lila, and became more one of the drudgeries of early motherhood and marriage. In this context, I suddenly found Elena unlikeable. But once she’s pulled back into the neighborhood and its original cast of characters, the story regained its vibrancy and flow. Then it ended on a cliffhanger.
The good writing is still there, as well as the naturalness, but whereas Books 1 and 2 both stand alone, this one is nothing without the others. There were chunks of this that felt impersonal enough to skim, but by the end, I’d follow Elena wherever she wanted me to go.
The good writing is still there, as well as the naturalness, but whereas Books 1 and 2 both stand alone, this one is nothing without the others. There were chunks of this that felt impersonal enough to skim, but by the end, I’d follow Elena wherever she wanted me to go.
March 2, 2020
I am barreling through Ferrante books and loving them. In book 3, Elena and Lila are now in their 20s and 30s and still living parallel and occasionally intersecting lives with mariage, lovers, kids, and lots of self-questioning. There is not one particular aspect or scene that comes to mind, but the overall impression of a very Proustian inspired look at the varying fates of these two women and how much they are changed (and unchanged) by the society that is changing around them. The secondary and tertiary characters lack some depth because of the nearly obsessive focus on the two protagonists. I do appreciate the first person narration by Elena (the character) and how she is able to weave Lila's story around hers. I can't wait to read #4!
December 10, 2024
از سری ریویوهای غیبت صغری
به تازگی کتابی رو از الیف شافاک تموم کردم به اسم فکر نکن تنهایی. نقل قول میکرد از کسی که دستهبندی کلیای انجام داده بود و میگفت انسانها به یکی از اینها تعلق دارن: ساکنان، مهاجران و تبعیدشدگان. در ادامه میگفت اونایی که ساکنن، نمیخوان تغییرپذیر باشن. اونایی که مهاجرن، یکم تغییر میکنن و از دایرهی محدود زندگیشون فراتر میرن. اما اونایی که تبعیدیان، بیشتر از دو دستهی اول متحول میشن و جهانشون دگرگون میشه. کاری به درست و غلطش ندارم اما فکر میکنم که لااقل این دستهبندی (و نه مفهومی که ازش داره)، برای ناپل صدق میکنه.
یه دسته میمونن و به پاش میسوزن و میسازن. نه به این علت که خواهان تغییر و تحول نیستن، گاهی زندگی نذاشته که حتی دریا هم ببینن. دستهی دیگه کسایی هستن که میرن، دل میکنن و دلتنگ میشن. بهای مهاجرت رو میپردازن و از اون گذشتهای که مثل سایه خفتشون کرده، میخوان رهایی پیدا کنن. و آخرین دسته، مطرود میشن. به ناچار باید کنفیکون شن. شاید اگه به حال خودشون میموندن، تو همون دو دستهی اول قرار میگرفتن. اما گاهی سرشون درد میکرد برای دردسری که پاشون رو از وطن برید. گاهی نه سر پیاز بودن و نه ته پیاز، اما درگیر بازیهای ناعادلانهای شدن که برگشتی در کار نبود.
و حالا این جلد به همین آدمها میپردازه. کسایی که هستیم، میبینیم و شاید بهشون دچاریم.
تاریخ و سیاست
ابعاد وسیع قلم فرانته در جلد سوم مجموعهی ناپل تا سیاست و تاریخ هم ریشه کرده و در خوانش به چشم میاد. تاریخی که دورهٔ بین جنگ جهانی دوم تا دهه اول قرن بیست و یکم رو در بر میگیره.
اما تمرکز تاریخی واقعیش بر چشمانداز سیاسی در حال تغییر ایتالیاست. آدمهایی که در حمایت از ایدئولوژیشون، افراط به خرج میدن. خشونت و احساسات انقلابیشون، دامنگیر میشه و زندگی مردم عادی رو به خطر میندازه. شما شاهد جدال فاشیستها و کمونیستها خواهید بود و این مقوله در اشعار شاعرانی چون پازولینی هم نمود پیدا کرده:
_پازولینی، خویشاوندی با خورشید و باران
همچنین، کاموریستها و نفوذ عجیب و پیوندهای کثیفی که با تشکیلات سیاسی دارن و نسخهی ناپلی مافیا به شمار میرن.
فرانته به افراد قوی هم تأکید میکنه. رابطهی شخصی و سیاسی نه تنها در ناپل، بلکه در سرتاسر ایتالیا، زندگی شخصیت های مجموعه، حتی کسایی که در جهان دانشگاهی هستن رو احاطه کرده و معلوم میشه که در تقاطع گیر کردن و سیاست، تجارت و جنایتکاری زیربنای ایتالیاست.
در چهارچوب، شخصیتهایی هم وجود دارن که به نظر میرسه از جنگهای آتشین سیاسی در امان موندن و در عین حال، بخشی از تشکیلات هستن و تو این شبکهی فساد نقش ایفا میکنن.
وفاداری خالق به اتفاقات حاکم بر تاریخ کشورش ستودنیه و پیشنهاد میکنم به علت خساست مترجم در پانویس، این وجه از مجموعه رو با تحقیقات میدانی خودتون کامل کنین و در جریان ابعاد تاریخی، سیاسی و اجتماعی ایتالیا قرار بگیرین.
الگوهای تکرارشونده
از مضامین عجیب و کوبندهی این جلد، کپی برابر اصل میتونه باشه. گابریل گارسیا مارکز که تکرار مکررات رو به نحو احسن در صد سال تنهایی انجام داده بود، میتونه یادآور قدرتمندی از این تکنیک باشه.
آدمهایی که شبیه خاندانشون میشن، خصلتهاشون میتونه با دیگری جابهجا شه و در موقعیتهای مختلف، نقش عوض کنن.
در طول مجموعه، خصلت الف بعدا در ب نمود پیدا میکنه. ب از الف فرار میکنه اما تبدیل به همون کسی میشه که ازش میترسه. حتی دو آدمی که در یک خانواده هم به شمار نمیرن، در شرایط مختلف نقش دیگری رو ایفا میکنن. مثلا لیلا و لنو در این امر سنگ تموم گذاشتن و گاهی تفاوتشون سخت میشه. ویژگیای که در لنو رو به زوال هست، در لیلا جون میگیره تا کمبود رفیق رو جبران کنه.
نوشتن
از پستی و بلندیهای نویسندگی هم نباید غافل شد. سنگهایی که بر سر راه قرار میگیره و بازخوردی که از تفکر اشتباهی نشأت گرفته در جایجای اثر به چشم میخوره. خالق، مخلوقی رو خلق میکنه و خواننده به تحلیلی میرسه که منصفانه نیست. اون میگه که مخلوق و خالق یکیان. اگر شخصیت خیالی، روابط جنسی متعددی داره پس لابد اونی که آفرینندهش هم هست اهل دله. در جایی از کتاب، این جهانبینی غلط رو میبینیم که خواننده به خودش اجازه میده تا با نویسنده همبستر شه. چرا؟ چون صحنههای اروتیکی در اثرش خلق کرده و چنین چیزی رو به خود نویسنده نسبت داده.
به تلخی این حقیقت رو به زبون میاره که قرار نیست اونچه بر کاغذ شکل گرفته، از اعماق وجود و زندگی شخص مورد نظر الهام گرفته شده باشه. جدایی هنر از هنرمند، نویسنده از قلم و آفریننده از آفرینشی که صورت گرفته مد نظرشه و اگرچه در بعضی قسمتها، این دو با هم عجین میشن ولی از طرفی ثابت میکنه که فرضیههای ذهنی همیشه درست از آب درنمیان.
اون از رخوت و خشک شدن قلم میگه. لحظاتی که موتور نوشتن خاموش میشه و با زندگی روزمره، عطشی برای خلق کردن کلمات باقی نمیمونه. یکی از دلایلی که بهش میپردازه، از دست رفتن امکانات نویسنده در زندگیای هست که زن رو به خانهداری و بچهداری محدود میکنه. وقتی در ابعاد زندگی مشترک، کمکی صورت نگیره و همهی وظایف بر دوش یک عضو سنگینی کنه، ذهن آسودهای برای نوشتن باقی نمیمونه. اون فضا و وقتی که نیاز هست، باید در اختیار فرد قرار بگیره تا استعداد و تواناییهایی که داره به بطالت نرن. و احتمالا شما هم با افرادی برخورد داشتین که در زندگی بعد از ازدواج، از خیلی چیزها زدن تا خونه و اهالیش پابرجا بمونن و شاید بعدها زندگی نزیسته رو به دوش بکشن.
باقی مسائل
به علت تکرار نکردن نکاتی که در ریویوهای جلد اول و دوم باز کرده بودم، از خاطرنشان کردن بعضی مسائل پرهیز میکنم.
قتل و تجاوز، خیانت و پنهانکاری، عصر کامپیوتر و از کار افتادن بعضی از مشاغل، فروپاشی روانی و از دست دادن هویت، اختلاف طبقاتی و دیر رسیدن به جایگاه مورد نظر از موضوعهای بحثبرانگیزی محسوب میشن که در کتاب بهشون پرداخته. به انضمام اینکه تردید در جنس رابطهی لیلا و لنو ممکنه پررنگتر شه.
سخن آخر
خوندن مجموعهی ناپل به استمرار نیازمنده. سریال اقتباسیای هم که داره، به تمام زوایای کتابها نپرداخته اما خوشساخت، وفادار و ریزبینانهست. تا به اینجا میتونین با خوندن هر جلد، یه فصل از سریال هم ببینین. اما پیشنهاد میکنم که در کنار این مناسک، سرچ هم فراموش نشه. پانویس، تک به تک اطلاعات مورد نیاز رو در اختیارتون نمیذاره. بخشی از پروسهی خوانش به خودتون بستگی داره و وقتی واقعگرایی قلم فرانته رو با گوگل کردن بفهمین، بیشتر قدردان کتاب زیردستتون خواهید بود.
این جلد هم با علی خوندم و از بودنش در مسیر طولانیای که داشتیم متشکرم.
پ.ن: کامنتهای اولیهی این ریویو هم به زمانی مربوطن که صرفا امتیاز دادم و گفتم به زودی ازش مینویسم. اصرار هم داشتم تا لایک بیخود نکنین و از بیمحتوا بودن حمایتی نشه. همین و بس.
به تازگی کتابی رو از الیف شافاک تموم کردم به اسم فکر نکن تنهایی. نقل قول میکرد از کسی که دستهبندی کلیای انجام داده بود و میگفت انسانها به یکی از اینها تعلق دارن: ساکنان، مهاجران و تبعیدشدگان. در ادامه میگفت اونایی که ساکنن، نمیخوان تغییرپذیر باشن. اونایی که مهاجرن، یکم تغییر میکنن و از دایرهی محدود زندگیشون فراتر میرن. اما اونایی که تبعیدیان، بیشتر از دو دستهی اول متحول میشن و جهانشون دگرگون میشه. کاری به درست و غلطش ندارم اما فکر میکنم که لااقل این دستهبندی (و نه مفهومی که ازش داره)، برای ناپل صدق میکنه.
یه دسته میمونن و به پاش میسوزن و میسازن. نه به این علت که خواهان تغییر و تحول نیستن، گاهی زندگی نذاشته که حتی دریا هم ببینن. دستهی دیگه کسایی هستن که میرن، دل میکنن و دلتنگ میشن. بهای مهاجرت رو میپردازن و از اون گذشتهای که مثل سایه خفتشون کرده، میخوان رهایی پیدا کنن. و آخرین دسته، مطرود میشن. به ناچار باید کنفیکون شن. شاید اگه به حال خودشون میموندن، تو همون دو دستهی اول قرار میگرفتن. اما گاهی سرشون درد میکرد برای دردسری که پاشون رو از وطن برید. گاهی نه سر پیاز بودن و نه ته پیاز، اما درگیر بازیهای ناعادلانهای شدن که برگشتی در کار نبود.
و حالا این جلد به همین آدمها میپردازه. کسایی که هستیم، میبینیم و شاید بهشون دچاریم.
تاریخ و سیاست
ابعاد وسیع قلم فرانته در جلد سوم مجموعهی ناپل تا سیاست و تاریخ هم ریشه کرده و در خوانش به چشم میاد. تاریخی که دورهٔ بین جنگ جهانی دوم تا دهه اول قرن بیست و یکم رو در بر میگیره.
اما تمرکز تاریخی واقعیش بر چشمانداز سیاسی در حال تغییر ایتالیاست. آدمهایی که در حمایت از ایدئولوژیشون، افراط به خرج میدن. خشونت و احساسات انقلابیشون، دامنگیر میشه و زندگی مردم عادی رو به خطر میندازه. شما شاهد جدال فاشیستها و کمونیستها خواهید بود و این مقوله در اشعار شاعرانی چون پازولینی هم نمود پیدا کرده:
حاصل این پیروزی اما کجا اهمیتی دارد؟
یک امضا از عریضههای درخواست صلح کمتر.
به لحاظ عینیت چیز زیادی نیست
به لحاظ ذهنیت... بگذریم.
به افراط و بلندتر از همیشه
از دردم گفتهام
همچون کرمی لهیده
که سرش را اندکی بلند میکند
و به خامی زنندهاش تقلا میکند، الخ.
پیروزی فاشیسم!
بنويسید، بنویسید. بگذارید آنان (آنان!) بدانند که من میدانم
آگاه چون پرندهای زخمی
که آرامآرام میمیرد اما هرگز نمیبخشاید.
_پازولینی، خویشاوندی با خورشید و باران
همچنین، کاموریستها و نفوذ عجیب و پیوندهای کثیفی که با تشکیلات سیاسی دارن و نسخهی ناپلی مافیا به شمار میرن.
فرانته به افراد قوی هم تأکید میکنه. رابطهی شخصی و سیاسی نه تنها در ناپل، بلکه در سرتاسر ایتالیا، زندگی شخصیت های مجموعه، حتی کسایی که در جهان دانشگاهی هستن رو احاطه کرده و معلوم میشه که در تقاطع گیر کردن و سیاست، تجارت و جنایتکاری زیربنای ایتالیاست.
در چهارچوب، شخصیتهایی هم وجود دارن که به نظر میرسه از جنگهای آتشین سیاسی در امان موندن و در عین حال، بخشی از تشکیلات هستن و تو این شبکهی فساد نقش ایفا میکنن.
وفاداری خالق به اتفاقات حاکم بر تاریخ کشورش ستودنیه و پیشنهاد میکنم به علت خساست مترجم در پانویس، این وجه از مجموعه رو با تحقیقات میدانی خودتون کامل کنین و در جریان ابعاد تاریخی، سیاسی و اجتماعی ایتالیا قرار بگیرین.
الگوهای تکرارشونده
از مضامین عجیب و کوبندهی این جلد، کپی برابر اصل میتونه باشه. گابریل گارسیا مارکز که تکرار مکررات رو به نحو احسن در صد سال تنهایی انجام داده بود، میتونه یادآور قدرتمندی از این تکنیک باشه.
آدمهایی که شبیه خاندانشون میشن، خصلتهاشون میتونه با دیگری جابهجا شه و در موقعیتهای مختلف، نقش عوض کنن.
در طول مجموعه، خصلت الف بعدا در ب نمود پیدا میکنه. ب از الف فرار میکنه اما تبدیل به همون کسی میشه که ازش میترسه. حتی دو آدمی که در یک خانواده هم به شمار نمیرن، در شرایط مختلف نقش دیگری رو ایفا میکنن. مثلا لیلا و لنو در این امر سنگ تموم گذاشتن و گاهی تفاوتشون سخت میشه. ویژگیای که در لنو رو به زوال هست، در لیلا جون میگیره تا کمبود رفیق رو جبران کنه.
نوشتن
از پستی و بلندیهای نویسندگی هم نباید غافل شد. سنگهایی که بر سر راه قرار میگیره و بازخوردی که از تفکر اشتباهی نشأت گرفته در جایجای اثر به چشم میخوره. خالق، مخلوقی رو خلق میکنه و خواننده به تحلیلی میرسه که منصفانه نیست. اون میگه که مخلوق و خالق یکیان. اگر شخصیت خیالی، روابط جنسی متعددی داره پس لابد اونی که آفرینندهش هم هست اهل دله. در جایی از کتاب، این جهانبینی غلط رو میبینیم که خواننده به خودش اجازه میده تا با نویسنده همبستر شه. چرا؟ چون صحنههای اروتیکی در اثرش خلق کرده و چنین چیزی رو به خود نویسنده نسبت داده.
به تلخی این حقیقت رو به زبون میاره که قرار نیست اونچه بر کاغذ شکل گرفته، از اعماق وجود و زندگی شخص مورد نظر الهام گرفته شده باشه. جدایی هنر از هنرمند، نویسنده از قلم و آفریننده از آفرینشی که صورت گرفته مد نظرشه و اگرچه در بعضی قسمتها، این دو با هم عجین میشن ولی از طرفی ثابت میکنه که فرضیههای ذهنی همیشه درست از آب درنمیان.
اون از رخوت و خشک شدن قلم میگه. لحظاتی که موتور نوشتن خاموش میشه و با زندگی روزمره، عطشی برای خلق کردن کلمات باقی نمیمونه. یکی از دلایلی که بهش میپردازه، از دست رفتن امکانات نویسنده در زندگیای هست که زن رو به خانهداری و بچهداری محدود میکنه. وقتی در ابعاد زندگی مشترک، کمکی صورت نگیره و همهی وظایف بر دوش یک عضو سنگینی کنه، ذهن آسودهای برای نوشتن باقی نمیمونه. اون فضا و وقتی که نیاز هست، باید در اختیار فرد قرار بگیره تا استعداد و تواناییهایی که داره به بطالت نرن. و احتمالا شما هم با افرادی برخورد داشتین که در زندگی بعد از ازدواج، از خیلی چیزها زدن تا خونه و اهالیش پابرجا بمونن و شاید بعدها زندگی نزیسته رو به دوش بکشن.
باقی مسائل
به علت تکرار نکردن نکاتی که در ریویوهای جلد اول و دوم باز کرده بودم، از خاطرنشان کردن بعضی مسائل پرهیز میکنم.
قتل و تجاوز، خیانت و پنهانکاری، عصر کامپیوتر و از کار افتادن بعضی از مشاغل، فروپاشی روانی و از دست دادن هویت، اختلاف طبقاتی و دیر رسیدن به جایگاه مورد نظر از موضوعهای بحثبرانگیزی محسوب میشن که در کتاب بهشون پرداخته. به انضمام اینکه تردید در جنس رابطهی لیلا و لنو ممکنه پررنگتر شه.
سخن آخر
خوندن مجموعهی ناپل به استمرار نیازمنده. سریال اقتباسیای هم که داره، به تمام زوایای کتابها نپرداخته اما خوشساخت، وفادار و ریزبینانهست. تا به اینجا میتونین با خوندن هر جلد، یه فصل از سریال هم ببینین. اما پیشنهاد میکنم که در کنار این مناسک، سرچ هم فراموش نشه. پانویس، تک به تک اطلاعات مورد نیاز رو در اختیارتون نمیذاره. بخشی از پروسهی خوانش به خودتون بستگی داره و وقتی واقعگرایی قلم فرانته رو با گوگل کردن بفهمین، بیشتر قدردان کتاب زیردستتون خواهید بود.
این جلد هم با علی خوندم و از بودنش در مسیر طولانیای که داشتیم متشکرم.
پ.ن: کامنتهای اولیهی این ریویو هم به زمانی مربوطن که صرفا امتیاز دادم و گفتم به زودی ازش مینویسم. اصرار هم داشتم تا لایک بیخود نکنین و از بیمحتوا بودن حمایتی نشه. همین و بس.
February 7, 2017
Finally getting back to this series. I thoroughly enjoyed books one and two by Ferrante. But I waited to get to book three. I started this series via audio and wanted to finish them all via audio. Oddly, my library only had books 1, 2, and 4 in audio. So I waited for them to get it. But the main reason I waited.....I dread seeing the end of this absolutely amazing story!
Again we are drawn into the lives of Elena and Lila. This book picks up immediately where book 2 left off, though they all do that. Elena is now a published author and is rising in influence and wealth. Lila is working at the sausage factory, raising her son, living and working in squalor but remaining strong as ever. I'll not go into the details of this one, but say just read the series. I don't want to give anything away and really, I can't quite put my finger on why these books are so captivating, so mesmerizing. I can't wait to get to book four, the final book to see what happens, but I'm sad it is the last book.
This is the first series of books I have ever finished. What can I say.....I loose interest in long, drawn out series. That never happened here. In fact, if there were more of these books, I would continue to read them. Between reading this one, Elena Ferrante was unmasked by some reporter who obviously had some other agenda. Does it take away from my reading these books? No. Does it add anything to my reading? No. Sometimes I almost feel much of what is in these books is taken from the authors life - no where has that been said, these are works of fiction, but it just feels so real. I truly feel some one lived this story. And I want to hear more. Perhaps that is why she wanted to remain silent. Or perhaps she just did not want to be bombarded constantly about her works (see Harper Lee).
I listened to the audio and the narration is wonderful. Hillary Huber does an amazing job and *is* the voice of Elena and Lila. My only nit-pick is so many characters (they are all wonderful) with many nicknames - it's hard to keep track of them at times. In the print version, there is a 'character tree' that tells who everyone is. Even after three books I still have to refer to this. I recommend this series to anyone who loves a great story, who wants to be immersed in the lives of the people in these books, and who may just want to be transported away for a few hours into something really great.
Again we are drawn into the lives of Elena and Lila. This book picks up immediately where book 2 left off, though they all do that. Elena is now a published author and is rising in influence and wealth. Lila is working at the sausage factory, raising her son, living and working in squalor but remaining strong as ever. I'll not go into the details of this one, but say just read the series. I don't want to give anything away and really, I can't quite put my finger on why these books are so captivating, so mesmerizing. I can't wait to get to book four, the final book to see what happens, but I'm sad it is the last book.
This is the first series of books I have ever finished. What can I say.....I loose interest in long, drawn out series. That never happened here. In fact, if there were more of these books, I would continue to read them. Between reading this one, Elena Ferrante was unmasked by some reporter who obviously had some other agenda. Does it take away from my reading these books? No. Does it add anything to my reading? No. Sometimes I almost feel much of what is in these books is taken from the authors life - no where has that been said, these are works of fiction, but it just feels so real. I truly feel some one lived this story. And I want to hear more. Perhaps that is why she wanted to remain silent. Or perhaps she just did not want to be bombarded constantly about her works (see Harper Lee).
I listened to the audio and the narration is wonderful. Hillary Huber does an amazing job and *is* the voice of Elena and Lila. My only nit-pick is so many characters (they are all wonderful) with many nicknames - it's hard to keep track of them at times. In the print version, there is a 'character tree' that tells who everyone is. Even after three books I still have to refer to this. I recommend this series to anyone who loves a great story, who wants to be immersed in the lives of the people in these books, and who may just want to be transported away for a few hours into something really great.
February 24, 2025
"Ferrante’s singularity is to make a glory of introspection and turn it into theatre. There’s a dark ardour present in her writing, and a thrilling physicality to her metaphors, boldly translated by Ann Goldstein. She speaks of “the anxious pleasure of violence”, of desire feeling “like a drop of rain in a spiderweb”. Her charting of the rivalries and sheer inscrutability of female friendship is raw. This is high-stakes, subversive literature."
Catherine Taylor for The Telegraph
A theatre of introspection. A thrilling physicality. High-stakes literature.
This comes pretty close to summing up the genius of Elena Ferrante and the high-wire act that are the Neapolitan Novels. These books thrum on so many levels that I finish each volume with my heart racing and my mind on fire. It feels like the whole world is humming.
I finish each volume with a heightened sense of living, with the sense that I have been privy to the inner workings of a singular mind and body, of an entire culture, of a political genesis, of the city of Naples all at once. I have the curious sensation of having witnessed the birth of an artist. Both in Elena (Lenu) the character and Elena the author.
The Neapolitan Novels may very well be Italy's answer to Proust's "À La Recherche du Temps Perdu". A more solar, raw and untethered version of the same quest: an almost physical need to make sense of the past, to search for the roots of one's personality in the choices that we make or are made for us, to understand (mostly in vain, but what nobility in trying) the people closest to us, those who escape us the most.
And finally, what wilderness in these women! What uncensored, touching, beguiling, indefinable, vital, complicated and obsessed beings they are. These are characters that explode the notions of "likable" and "unlikable". You cannot sum them up. They will trickle through your fingers like sand.
Il più bravo.
Catherine Taylor for The Telegraph
A theatre of introspection. A thrilling physicality. High-stakes literature.
This comes pretty close to summing up the genius of Elena Ferrante and the high-wire act that are the Neapolitan Novels. These books thrum on so many levels that I finish each volume with my heart racing and my mind on fire. It feels like the whole world is humming.
I finish each volume with a heightened sense of living, with the sense that I have been privy to the inner workings of a singular mind and body, of an entire culture, of a political genesis, of the city of Naples all at once. I have the curious sensation of having witnessed the birth of an artist. Both in Elena (Lenu) the character and Elena the author.
The Neapolitan Novels may very well be Italy's answer to Proust's "À La Recherche du Temps Perdu". A more solar, raw and untethered version of the same quest: an almost physical need to make sense of the past, to search for the roots of one's personality in the choices that we make or are made for us, to understand (mostly in vain, but what nobility in trying) the people closest to us, those who escape us the most.
And finally, what wilderness in these women! What uncensored, touching, beguiling, indefinable, vital, complicated and obsessed beings they are. These are characters that explode the notions of "likable" and "unlikable". You cannot sum them up. They will trickle through your fingers like sand.
Il più bravo.
August 29, 2017
"Become… I wanted to become, even though I had never known what. And I had become, that was certain, but without an object, without a real passion, without a determined ambition. I had wanted to become something – here was the point – only because I was afraid that Lila would become someone and I would stay behind. My becoming was a becoming in her wake. I had to start again to become, but for myself, as an adult, outside of her."
I finished this third book in Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan series three weeks ago. Yet I feel as if I just turned the last page only this morning. I suppose you could say that the entire series has really grown on me and become almost a part of me this past year. There is no way I will ever forget Elena and Lila and their complicated and baffling friendship. Reading this book left me mentally drained – I don’t even know if I can gather together my thoughts to write a cohesive review here! Perhaps too much energy went into submerging myself into the lives of these two women and I should just leave it at that. If I had to seriously and so meticulously dissect my own relationships with my female friends, as Elena does here with Lila, I fear I would perhaps no longer have a single friend! Maybe I would even lose sight of myself. Still, it is exactly this scrutiny which sucks me into these novels.
In Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, Ferrante writes from Elena’s perspective. We see both women pass through their twenties and into their thirties. One has managed to escape the violence and the poverty of the old Naples neighborhood, while the other remains behind. While initially it seemed clear which woman ‘left’ and which ‘stayed’, I began to question whether or not perhaps the answer is actually the reverse. Their lives are so intertwined since they were little girls, that there can be no concise conclusion – each depends on the other to mark their own individual successes. I am going to refrain from discussing the plot in any detail, but rather note generally that feminism, marriage and motherhood are all explored. We also witness the political tensions in Italy during the late 1960s/early 1970s. Certainly, the friendship continues to be tested. Honestly, I cannot say that I identify with either Elena or Lila. In the earlier books in this series I would have to admit that any sympathy I doled out would have been directed towards Elena. Now, however, the tables have turned; I find Elena to be especially disagreeable while instead I find greater appreciation in Lila’s personality, despite her abrasive edges. I think Lila genuinely wants the best for Elena, while Elena wants to ensure that Lila does not surpass her.
The intensity of the story continues to build throughout. Consistent with the previous Neapolitan novels, this one ends on a cliffhanger as well. I was rather stunned! I am certain that choices made will reverberate straight through the fourth book, and that the next chapter of these women’s lives will be as tortuous and absorbing as the last.
"Each of us narrates our life as it suits us."
I finished this third book in Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan series three weeks ago. Yet I feel as if I just turned the last page only this morning. I suppose you could say that the entire series has really grown on me and become almost a part of me this past year. There is no way I will ever forget Elena and Lila and their complicated and baffling friendship. Reading this book left me mentally drained – I don’t even know if I can gather together my thoughts to write a cohesive review here! Perhaps too much energy went into submerging myself into the lives of these two women and I should just leave it at that. If I had to seriously and so meticulously dissect my own relationships with my female friends, as Elena does here with Lila, I fear I would perhaps no longer have a single friend! Maybe I would even lose sight of myself. Still, it is exactly this scrutiny which sucks me into these novels.
In Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, Ferrante writes from Elena’s perspective. We see both women pass through their twenties and into their thirties. One has managed to escape the violence and the poverty of the old Naples neighborhood, while the other remains behind. While initially it seemed clear which woman ‘left’ and which ‘stayed’, I began to question whether or not perhaps the answer is actually the reverse. Their lives are so intertwined since they were little girls, that there can be no concise conclusion – each depends on the other to mark their own individual successes. I am going to refrain from discussing the plot in any detail, but rather note generally that feminism, marriage and motherhood are all explored. We also witness the political tensions in Italy during the late 1960s/early 1970s. Certainly, the friendship continues to be tested. Honestly, I cannot say that I identify with either Elena or Lila. In the earlier books in this series I would have to admit that any sympathy I doled out would have been directed towards Elena. Now, however, the tables have turned; I find Elena to be especially disagreeable while instead I find greater appreciation in Lila’s personality, despite her abrasive edges. I think Lila genuinely wants the best for Elena, while Elena wants to ensure that Lila does not surpass her.
The intensity of the story continues to build throughout. Consistent with the previous Neapolitan novels, this one ends on a cliffhanger as well. I was rather stunned! I am certain that choices made will reverberate straight through the fourth book, and that the next chapter of these women’s lives will be as tortuous and absorbing as the last.
"Each of us narrates our life as it suits us."
March 19, 2019
أنا من الطبقة الوسطى التى تجاهد كى لا تنزلق، وتكافح كى تصعد لأعلى، فلا تكسب إلا تحطيم أظفارها على الغبار الذى يبطن الحفرة.
العراب أحمد خالد توفيق .. من مقال بعنوان لعنة الوضع الوسط
البروليتاريا = الطبقة العاملة = الموظفين = الطبقة الوسطى: الجميع سواسية يكافحون كى يكسبوا قوت يومهم ويعجزون عن الوفاء بالمتطلبات الطارئة / العاجلة لأن ما يربحونه من دخل يكاد يكفى اليوم ذاته، وطالما بقى حال الطبقة الوسطى على ما هو عليه أو تدهور أكثر، فهنا يجب أن يتوقع المجتمع أن تظهر (باسكوالى + ناديا + أرماندو + وربما ليلا) معارضة قوية من أبناء الطبقة التى لم تعد تستطع أن توفى إلتزاماتها ومن المسحوقين من أبناء الطبقات الدُنيا يطالبون بالحقوق فى العيش والكرامة ربما بطريقة سلمية، ولكن أحياناً بطريقة غير سلمية كما فى حالة الألوية الحمراء فى إيطاليا فتعم البلاد الفوضى فى شكل قتل وخطف ونهب عاشته إيطاليا فى الربع الثالث من القرن الماضى، تزامن صعود سهم الألوية الحمراء مع سيطرة الحزب المسيحى الديمقراطى على الحكم آنذاك، فتصاعدت أعمال العنف من جانب الألوية الحمراء كرد فعل على عمليات عنف مماثلة تعرض لها كل من انتمى للفصائل الأخرى.
وكما عودنا أصحاب الأموال فى كل زمان ومكان أنهم ينشطون عند الكوارث الكبرى لأى بلد أو مجتمع فيسعون لإعطاء الأموال لهذا وذاك فيظهر الكتاب الأحمر لصاحبته مانويلا سولارا وهؤلاء يتغذون على أصحاب الطبقة سابقة الذكر فيسحقون ويقتلون فى سبيل المال (كما فعلت مانويلا مع المرابى المنافس لها الدون آخيل) ويساعدون السلطة على التخلص من معارضيها بُغية تحقيق مكاسب أكبر.
نعود سريعاً من بعيد إلى روايتنا الساحرة:
جميعنا أسرى ماضينا، الماضى وإن لم نكتبه
داريو: ذلك الطفل الذى يحاول أن يكتب مستقبلاً جديداً مشرقاً أكثر من ظلمة هذه الحرب الأهلية التى اجتاحت إيطاليا، يحاول أن يكتب مستقبله بيديه ولكن أى قوة يمتلك هذا الغصن الأخضر كى يجابه صراعات أصحاب الأيدولوجيات المختلفة والأهداف المتباينة من الأحزاب والحركات التى تقود المشهد بيديها إلى مصير غير معلوم.
إيليزا: إياك أن تحاول إنقاذ نفسك وإنقاذ من حولك على طريقة سيدنا يونس عندما قفز فى اليم لينقذ أتباعه ورفاقه من غرق السفينة فألتقمه الحوت، هكذا فعلت الطفلة إيليزا كى تنقذ عائلتها ونفسها من مصير أسود فى وسط أمواج من الحرب والقتل، لاذت بالفرار من نار الفقر والحرب والمرض إلى جحيم عائلة الربا.
رسالة فى نهاية هذه المراجعة لإيلينا فيرانتى كاتبة هذه الأعجوبة: كم أنت شيطانة؟، كيف استطعت أن تتلاعبى بى وبمشاعرى بين الحب والكُره والتعاطف والمقت، ونجحتِ فى نهاية هذا الجزء أن تتركينى مُحملاً بهذا القدر الهائل من الغضب حتى أنى أضرب كل ما يقابلنى الآن بقبضة يدى.
العراب أحمد خالد توفيق .. من مقال بعنوان لعنة الوضع الوسط
البروليتاريا = الطبقة العاملة = الموظفين = الطبقة الوسطى: الجميع سواسية يكافحون كى يكسبوا قوت يومهم ويعجزون عن الوفاء بالمتطلبات الطارئة / العاجلة لأن ما يربحونه من دخل يكاد يكفى اليوم ذاته، وطالما بقى حال الطبقة الوسطى على ما هو عليه أو تدهور أكثر، فهنا يجب أن يتوقع المجتمع أن تظهر (باسكوالى + ناديا + أرماندو + وربما ليلا) معارضة قوية من أبناء الطبقة التى لم تعد تستطع أن توفى إلتزاماتها ومن المسحوقين من أبناء الطبقات الدُنيا يطالبون بالحقوق فى العيش والكرامة ربما بطريقة سلمية، ولكن أحياناً بطريقة غير سلمية كما فى حالة الألوية الحمراء فى إيطاليا فتعم البلاد الفوضى فى شكل قتل وخطف ونهب عاشته إيطاليا فى الربع الثالث من القرن الماضى، تزامن صعود سهم الألوية الحمراء مع سيطرة الحزب المسيحى الديمقراطى على الحكم آنذاك، فتصاعدت أعمال العنف من جانب الألوية الحمراء كرد فعل على عمليات عنف مماثلة تعرض لها كل من انتمى للفصائل الأخرى.
وكما عودنا أصحاب الأموال فى كل زمان ومكان أنهم ينشطون عند الكوارث الكبرى لأى بلد أو مجتمع فيسعون لإعطاء الأموال لهذا وذاك فيظهر الكتاب الأحمر لصاحبته مانويلا سولارا وهؤلاء يتغذون على أصحاب الطبقة سابقة الذكر فيسحقون ويقتلون فى سبيل المال (كما فعلت مانويلا مع المرابى المنافس لها الدون آخيل) ويساعدون السلطة على التخلص من معارضيها بُغية تحقيق مكاسب أكبر.
نعود سريعاً من بعيد إلى روايتنا الساحرة:
جميعنا أسرى ماضينا، الماضى وإن لم نكتبه
داريو: ذلك الطفل الذى يحاول أن يكتب مستقبلاً جديداً مشرقاً أكثر من ظلمة هذه الحرب الأهلية التى اجتاحت إيطاليا، يحاول أن يكتب مستقبله بيديه ولكن أى قوة يمتلك هذا الغصن الأخضر كى يجابه صراعات أصحاب الأيدولوجيات المختلفة والأهداف المتباينة من الأحزاب والحركات التى تقود المشهد بيديها إلى مصير غير معلوم.
إيليزا: إياك أن تحاول إنقاذ نفسك وإنقاذ من حولك على طريقة سيدنا يونس عندما قفز فى اليم لينقذ أتباعه ورفاقه من غرق السفينة فألتقمه الحوت، هكذا فعلت الطفلة إيليزا كى تنقذ عائلتها ونفسها من مصير أسود فى وسط أمواج من الحرب والقتل، لاذت بالفرار من نار الفقر والحرب والمرض إلى جحيم عائلة الربا.
رسالة فى نهاية هذه المراجعة لإيلينا فيرانتى كاتبة هذه الأعجوبة: كم أنت شيطانة؟، كيف استطعت أن تتلاعبى بى وبمشاعرى بين الحب والكُره والتعاطف والمقت، ونجحتِ فى نهاية هذا الجزء أن تتركينى مُحملاً بهذا القدر الهائل من الغضب حتى أنى أضرب كل ما يقابلنى الآن بقبضة يدى.
June 13, 2022
Brilliant just as the rest of the series. Hypnotizing phycological novel that emerges you into chaotic and emotional Naples. It's predictable but surprising at the same time. No grand events but enormous feelings. It's familiar and yet exotic. And the third book took even more feminist approach and deepened the discussion on social injustices, which made it more than just a story of the complex relationship with fascinating historical background (cos where else would you read about Italian communists vs fascists?).
March 30, 2020
How did things got this messy and dirtier?
April 3, 2015
From the beginning, the reading of Ferrante has been a visceral experience. Yet, reading her standalone novels first did not prepare for me for what a hyperrealistic fever dream these Neapolitan Novels have been. Unlike hyperrealistic works of visual art where what is underneath proves that the picture is not real, what is underneath here seems all too real. Upon finishing this installment I even felt guilty, as if I were complicit in the character's decisions.
The narrator's scholarly work on male authors who write from a female viewpoint (e.g, Flaubert/Bovary) fits the developing character, but is Ferrante (who at one time was speculated to be male) having a bit of fun here? Or is she venting her anger? (The latter is much more likely; there's no fun in Ferrante.)
Of great interest to me, and it's more evident in Book Three than in the first two, was the recognition of elements that originated in Ferrante's standalone novels, especially The Lost Daughter: a child's doll; a powerful, threatening family; the breaking of glass by a distraught adult in front of a small child; the paring of the skin of a fruit into one unbroken strip; and, of course, abandonment.
I must abandon Ferrante until at least September, a forced hiatus, I am not willing.
... maybe, in the face of abandonment, we are all the same; maybe not even a very orderly mind can endure the discovery of not being loved.
The narrator's scholarly work on male authors who write from a female viewpoint (e.g, Flaubert/Bovary) fits the developing character, but is Ferrante (who at one time was speculated to be male) having a bit of fun here? Or is she venting her anger? (The latter is much more likely; there's no fun in Ferrante.)
Of great interest to me, and it's more evident in Book Three than in the first two, was the recognition of elements that originated in Ferrante's standalone novels, especially The Lost Daughter: a child's doll; a powerful, threatening family; the breaking of glass by a distraught adult in front of a small child; the paring of the skin of a fruit into one unbroken strip; and, of course, abandonment.
I must abandon Ferrante until at least September, a forced hiatus, I am not willing.
... maybe, in the face of abandonment, we are all the same; maybe not even a very orderly mind can endure the discovery of not being loved.
August 25, 2016
Elena is married, living in Florence with a husband she fights with often.
They have two daughters.....making her life even more complicated. Choices need to be made. Will she leave....or will she stay? And regardless of her choice--what else has to happen? For her? Her children? Husband? Is being happy with yourself dependent on if you stay OR leave?
Basically- Elena is not content as a Betty Crocker type domestic-woman.
She spends a great amount of time evaluating her every move, her every thought, questions her value...measures herself against Lila....and others. So, in many ways, book three is more Elena's story than the first two previous books were.
In book Three, we see more social awakening -[1969-1970]- there's the Vietnam war,
the rise of feminism, and sexual upheavals....all beginning in a sausage factory. [where Lila works]....
Violence - protests- and the labor movement..... Conflicts are rising between communists and fascists.
In many ways this is the most intense. It's hard to believe that this book went even deeper than book two.....but it does! A deeper evaluation about friendship,
about the changing roles for women - in marriage and career.....About sex-love- money- social status- and personal self expression.
Crazy choices? I'll let you decide!
Excellent - thought provoking!!!!!!!!!! Gorgeous writing and dialogue as always!!!!
They have two daughters.....making her life even more complicated. Choices need to be made. Will she leave....or will she stay? And regardless of her choice--what else has to happen? For her? Her children? Husband? Is being happy with yourself dependent on if you stay OR leave?
Basically- Elena is not content as a Betty Crocker type domestic-woman.
She spends a great amount of time evaluating her every move, her every thought, questions her value...measures herself against Lila....and others. So, in many ways, book three is more Elena's story than the first two previous books were.
In book Three, we see more social awakening -[1969-1970]- there's the Vietnam war,
the rise of feminism, and sexual upheavals....all beginning in a sausage factory. [where Lila works]....
Violence - protests- and the labor movement..... Conflicts are rising between communists and fascists.
In many ways this is the most intense. It's hard to believe that this book went even deeper than book two.....but it does! A deeper evaluation about friendship,
about the changing roles for women - in marriage and career.....About sex-love- money- social status- and personal self expression.
Crazy choices? I'll let you decide!
Excellent - thought provoking!!!!!!!!!! Gorgeous writing and dialogue as always!!!!
July 6, 2016
I give up. Elena Ferrante and I are not simpatico. I have this novel- I'm skimming- I'm dreading the wordiness, the limbo, the chatter of the novel. They are simply grim books, filled with agony after agony in detail. Life is tough enough but to have to expose myself to the microscopic examination of lives which never seem joyful, the minutiae of the mundane, the scrutiny of unfulfilled lives- I give up. Those who love these books- go for them. We all have choices. These aren't mine. Bye, Elena.
May 2, 2021
And the saga continues.... This book is a slow burn. The first 100 pages are pretty bland to be honest but by page 200 I was all in again and by 300 I was unable to stop reading. The subtlety and attention to details are incredible! As I read this series it feels like it's based on reality. Ferrante, still writing from Lenu's point of view, shows us what happens to those who leave nd those who stay. All I can say is brilliant book/writing and I recommend it.
January 19, 2014
Reading Elena Ferrante's trilogy has been a marathon of never ending awe. I'm still electrified from reading the last volume. Lila and lena will stay with me for a very very long time. Pleease read "My Brilliant Friend" trilogy and keep in mind that it gets better and better and better and better as you turn each page.
May 9, 2023
في الجزء الثالث من الرباعيّة، تتحدث ايلينا عن سيرتها ومسيرتها الجامعية، وعلاقاتها، وقراءاتها، عن أدباء إيطاليا، والاضطرابات السياسية في تلك الفترة، ايلينا وضعت نفسها في هذا الجزء تحت المجهر، عن قصة زواجها وحياتها الزوجية، وصداقتها مع زوجها وبداية نضالها من أجل تحقيق التوازن بين حياة عائلتها، ومحاولة الكتابة من جديد.
كانت تحتاج الى أن تنمو وتمضي قدماً في حياتها، تحدثت أيضاً عن يقظتها الجنسيّة، وتذكّرت مساراتها التي حاربت فيها الفقر والكدح من أجل مغادرة نابولي والاستقرار مع زوجها في فلورنسا، والآن تجد نفسها بين الحمل والولادة والحضانة والمطبخ ومتطلّبات الزوج.
روايتها الأولى مازالت تباع، وعلاقاتها تزداد وتتحسن خاصة مع حماتها وعائلة زوجها لكن بعد وضع الطفلتين، وانقطاعها عن الكتابة بدأ نجمها الأدبيّ بالأفول والتلاشي.
تسلط ايضاً الضوء على حياة صديقتها ليلا التي تعمل في مصنع اللحوم وتكافح حياة الفقر من أجل ولدها ثمرة علاقتها مع نينو وثمن تركها حياة الترف والبذخ، لكن نينو هجرها وتركها وأختفى، عانت الكثير و انخرطت في الحركة العمالية، تثير غضب زملائها وأرباب العمل من خلال وقوفها في وجه كل الإساءات وقربها من صاحب العمل.
تصطدم ايلينا وليلا وتبهت علاقتهما، وتقل اتصالاتهما حتى تكاد تختفي، كل منهما يغوص في حياته، يواجهن كل الصعوبات للبحث عن الاستقلال والهوية، في بيئة مازال للرجال فيها حق الكلمة الأخيرة دائماً ، وهذا ما فاجأني فلم أصدق أن إيطاليا التي لا تعادي المرأة ابداً، يوجد فيها نفس البيئة كما في أغلب دول العالم.
ثم تستمر القصة الى ان تصل الى النهاية، ويحدث انفجار في الحبكة ومفاجأة كبرى بعودة نينو مرة أخرى حبيب ليلي الذي هجرها، ليسيطر على ايلينا بحبائله، وتنخرط معه في المجون وتسافر معه الى فرنسا وتختلف مع زوجها وتضحي بأبنتيها من أجل ذلك الحب المحرّم.
كانت جرعة التشويق في هذا الجزء متركزة بشكل كبير في صفحاته الأخيرة وهذا ذكاء من الكاتبة لتدفعك غصباً الى قراءة الجزء الرابع والأخير في متابعة هذه السيرة الأسطورية.
كانت تحتاج الى أن تنمو وتمضي قدماً في حياتها، تحدثت أيضاً عن يقظتها الجنسيّة، وتذكّرت مساراتها التي حاربت فيها الفقر والكدح من أجل مغادرة نابولي والاستقرار مع زوجها في فلورنسا، والآن تجد نفسها بين الحمل والولادة والحضانة والمطبخ ومتطلّبات الزوج.
روايتها الأولى مازالت تباع، وعلاقاتها تزداد وتتحسن خاصة مع حماتها وعائلة زوجها لكن بعد وضع الطفلتين، وانقطاعها عن الكتابة بدأ نجمها الأدبيّ بالأفول والتلاشي.
تسلط ايضاً الضوء على حياة صديقتها ليلا التي تعمل في مصنع اللحوم وتكافح حياة الفقر من أجل ولدها ثمرة علاقتها مع نينو وثمن تركها حياة الترف والبذخ، لكن نينو هجرها وتركها وأختفى، عانت الكثير و انخرطت في الحركة العمالية، تثير غضب زملائها وأرباب العمل من خلال وقوفها في وجه كل الإساءات وقربها من صاحب العمل.
تصطدم ايلينا وليلا وتبهت علاقتهما، وتقل اتصالاتهما حتى تكاد تختفي، كل منهما يغوص في حياته، يواجهن كل الصعوبات للبحث عن الاستقلال والهوية، في بيئة مازال للرجال فيها حق الكلمة الأخيرة دائماً ، وهذا ما فاجأني فلم أصدق أن إيطاليا التي لا تعادي المرأة ابداً، يوجد فيها نفس البيئة كما في أغلب دول العالم.
ثم تستمر القصة الى ان تصل الى النهاية، ويحدث انفجار في الحبكة ومفاجأة كبرى بعودة نينو مرة أخرى حبيب ليلي الذي هجرها، ليسيطر على ايلينا بحبائله، وتنخرط معه في المجون وتسافر معه الى فرنسا وتختلف مع زوجها وتضحي بأبنتيها من أجل ذلك الحب المحرّم.
كانت جرعة التشويق في هذا الجزء متركزة بشكل كبير في صفحاته الأخيرة وهذا ذكاء من الكاتبة لتدفعك غصباً الى قراءة الجزء الرابع والأخير في متابعة هذه السيرة الأسطورية.
Read
January 15, 2022فما زالت التعويذة السحرية التي تمارسها " ايلينا فرانتي" تفرض سطوتها ..
هنا جاء السرد الروائي كما لو كان عاصفة تداهمك بقوتها الجارفة ، لا سبيل لمقاومتها ...
ايطاليا في فترة الستينيات والسبعينيات من تاريخها حيث التوترات السياسية والنزاعات المحتدمة بين الفاشيين والشيوعيين ..حقبة متأزمة ذات منعطفات متقلبة وأحداث مأسوية عاشها الجميع بلا استثناء ...
"ليلا" تلك المرأة التي تعرف تتقن السيطرة على مسببات خوفها ، ترتجف بداخلها ومع ذلك ترهب من يحاول اخضاعها بثباتها وصلابتها ، ممتلئة بطموحات لا يكبح جماحها ..
تعرف كيف تستعيد ما انتزع منها ، لا تسلم بالخسارة ، تعرف كيف بعدما يتهدم كل شيء تعيد بناءه ، وتستعيد حياتها من جديد ...
أما " ايلينا" امرأة يصعب التحدث عنها ، تعجز عند محاولة توصيف شخصيتها ، هى مجتهدة ،مثابرة ، استطاعت ان تصبح السيدة المثقفة ، التي تعرف تجمع الافكار المتبعثرة وتحيكها من جديد في صورة منطقية مقبولة ، ولكن عندما حاولت ان تصوغ حياتها بمعزل عن " ليلا" ، تراها تسلم لتشكيل ذاتها وفقاُ لتصورات الآخرين ورؤياهم ، امرأة يصعب التعرف على كينونتها ، مخيبة للآمال على الدوام
ليست سوى صورة ضبابية مهتزة لا تتعرف على ماهيتها ابداً ..، تفتقد الثقة بقدراتها ، تنتظر اراء الآخرين وتعلق نجاحها عليها ، تعطل ذكاءها وتنصاع وراء رغبتها اللعينة لتحطم حياة جاهدت طويلاً في تشييدها ، ها هي تهوي بنفسها فى هوة سحيقة مظلمة برفقة الشخص الذي تدرك في قرارة نفسها بأنه ليس منقذها بل من سيتسبب في ضياعها وحتماً سيحيل حياتها إلى جحيم ....
وبالطبع ستتلهف على ملاحقة حياة " ليلا" و " ايلينا" في الجزء الرابع.....
هنا جاء السرد الروائي كما لو كان عاصفة تداهمك بقوتها الجارفة ، لا سبيل لمقاومتها ...
ايطاليا في فترة الستينيات والسبعينيات من تاريخها حيث التوترات السياسية والنزاعات المحتدمة بين الفاشيين والشيوعيين ..حقبة متأزمة ذات منعطفات متقلبة وأحداث مأسوية عاشها الجميع بلا استثناء ...
"ليلا" تلك المرأة التي تعرف تتقن السيطرة على مسببات خوفها ، ترتجف بداخلها ومع ذلك ترهب من يحاول اخضاعها بثباتها وصلابتها ، ممتلئة بطموحات لا يكبح جماحها ..
تعرف كيف تستعيد ما انتزع منها ، لا تسلم بالخسارة ، تعرف كيف بعدما يتهدم كل شيء تعيد بناءه ، وتستعيد حياتها من جديد ...
أما " ايلينا" امرأة يصعب التحدث عنها ، تعجز عند محاولة توصيف شخصيتها ، هى مجتهدة ،مثابرة ، استطاعت ان تصبح السيدة المثقفة ، التي تعرف تجمع الافكار المتبعثرة وتحيكها من جديد في صورة منطقية مقبولة ، ولكن عندما حاولت ان تصوغ حياتها بمعزل عن " ليلا" ، تراها تسلم لتشكيل ذاتها وفقاُ لتصورات الآخرين ورؤياهم ، امرأة يصعب التعرف على كينونتها ، مخيبة للآمال على الدوام
ليست سوى صورة ضبابية مهتزة لا تتعرف على ماهيتها ابداً ..، تفتقد الثقة بقدراتها ، تنتظر اراء الآخرين وتعلق نجاحها عليها ، تعطل ذكاءها وتنصاع وراء رغبتها اللعينة لتحطم حياة جاهدت طويلاً في تشييدها ، ها هي تهوي بنفسها فى هوة سحيقة مظلمة برفقة الشخص الذي تدرك في قرارة نفسها بأنه ليس منقذها بل من سيتسبب في ضياعها وحتماً سيحيل حياتها إلى جحيم ....
وبالطبع ستتلهف على ملاحقة حياة " ليلا" و " ايلينا" في الجزء الرابع.....
December 18, 2024
Happily in this third part of the Neapolitan novels I found again the old Ferrante, the hard-hearted, unsparing, sublime and disconcerting Ferrante I knew from her first works (Troubling Love, The Days of Abandonment, The Lost Daughter). Parts 1 and 2 of the Neapolitan novels were nice and intriguing, but I was somewhat hesitant because of their soap-like character. Now it appears that these were but building blocks to bring the story on a higher level.
Of course, the ambiguous attraction-repulsion relationship between the two girlfriends, the ever-hesitant Lena and the harsh Lila remains central, and the complex microcosm of the Neapolitan district where they grew up remains their ultimate reference point. But in this third part the focus shifts much more to Lena (the 66 year old narrating voice of these novels): her successful writer career and the respect she temporarily gains (while maintaining a strong inferiority complex), her relationship and marriage with the very rigid academic Pietro, her struggle with her role as wife and mother and her discovery of feminism. Lila, on the other hand, seems to emerge from her miserable existence after a hellish period, but in a manner that alarms and upsets Lena.
In this part the story line is also stronger embedded in the changing time context: constantly there are references to the radicalization in the political, social and economic situation of Italy in the late 1960s and early 1970s, with its pompous ideological debates, the hard confrontations between extreme left and extreme right (and the appliance of terrorist techniques), but also the greater prosperity for some, the sexual revolution and the introduction of computer science. In this complex maelstrom, Lena and Lila each go their own way, keeping much less contact, yet inextricably linked, almost like each other's mirror images, as an unbreakable twin bond.
This third section contains passages that testify to a breathtaking writer's talent: the confrontation between left-wing students and workers, for instance, and the central scene of the great party of the camorra family Solara. Also Lena's processing of the new feminist insights, and the analysis she makes of her own life from that context, is sublime. But to be honest, there are also weak, again soap-like parts: for example where an unrecognizable efficient Lena puts the life of the sick Lila in order, or the very predictable intense relationship with Nino (why are both Lena and Lila always falling for the ‘wrong’ guys, anyway?).
The mixed feelings remain, but at the same time Ferrante has taken a decisive step in this part, looking into the abyss of human feelings, and that makes my curiosity about Part 4, the final part, only bigger. (rating 3.5 stars)
Of course, the ambiguous attraction-repulsion relationship between the two girlfriends, the ever-hesitant Lena and the harsh Lila remains central, and the complex microcosm of the Neapolitan district where they grew up remains their ultimate reference point. But in this third part the focus shifts much more to Lena (the 66 year old narrating voice of these novels): her successful writer career and the respect she temporarily gains (while maintaining a strong inferiority complex), her relationship and marriage with the very rigid academic Pietro, her struggle with her role as wife and mother and her discovery of feminism. Lila, on the other hand, seems to emerge from her miserable existence after a hellish period, but in a manner that alarms and upsets Lena.
In this part the story line is also stronger embedded in the changing time context: constantly there are references to the radicalization in the political, social and economic situation of Italy in the late 1960s and early 1970s, with its pompous ideological debates, the hard confrontations between extreme left and extreme right (and the appliance of terrorist techniques), but also the greater prosperity for some, the sexual revolution and the introduction of computer science. In this complex maelstrom, Lena and Lila each go their own way, keeping much less contact, yet inextricably linked, almost like each other's mirror images, as an unbreakable twin bond.
This third section contains passages that testify to a breathtaking writer's talent: the confrontation between left-wing students and workers, for instance, and the central scene of the great party of the camorra family Solara. Also Lena's processing of the new feminist insights, and the analysis she makes of her own life from that context, is sublime. But to be honest, there are also weak, again soap-like parts: for example where an unrecognizable efficient Lena puts the life of the sick Lila in order, or the very predictable intense relationship with Nino (why are both Lena and Lila always falling for the ‘wrong’ guys, anyway?).
The mixed feelings remain, but at the same time Ferrante has taken a decisive step in this part, looking into the abyss of human feelings, and that makes my curiosity about Part 4, the final part, only bigger. (rating 3.5 stars)
Displaying 1 - 30 of 13,958 reviews