Olga Onuch, Senior Lecturer in Politics at the University of Manchester, Principle Investigator of the Mobilise Project Consider our claim that “ taste is just another name for misogyny.” We made this assertion in a listicle of sorts that we created to express our deep love for the Neapolitan novels’ infamously trashy book covers. Rendered in pastels, featuring imagery seemingly drawn straight from the Christian women’s romance section of the bookstore, the book covers, everyone seemed to agree, were at odds with the rigor and insight of the novels themselves. The Story of the Lost Child; nominated for the International Booker Prize, raising the question if the award could be given to an anonymous author. [26] [27] In Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, Elena Ferrante’s characters deal with love and strife in a changing world. Until then I can say that I’m still loving the books, enthralled by the characters, hoping they can work things out somehow. I’ve no idea how all of this will end and I’m not exactly looking forward to it. When you spend this much time with a character, it can be hard to say goodbye.

Jenny Turner, " The Secret Sharer. Elena Ferrante's existential fiction", Harper's Magazine, October 2014. What to do with this, we really don’t know—would a clearer argument, more engagement, have prevented the rape threat? Probably not. But it does seem clear that something about the shamelessness of how the original piece made an unsupportable claim, the refusal to inhabit “legitimate” modes of exchange, is part of what provoked it. Ada Cappuccio (Antonio's sister, helps her mother clean staircases, later works at the Carracci grocery shop)The latter is certainly felt in the novel’s bold turns to the future, and its motion of “fleeing” old ruins. Through her characters’ travels and travails, it could be said, Ferrante sings of arms and the woman. Elena struggles throughout Those Who Leave to find the courage to live and write again after enduring a dismissive husband and the widespread panning of her second novel. Through her, Ferrante has also broken through a wall of sorts, and though there is a tone of bitterness throughout the novel, it closes in a fire of triumphant exultation, not merely “fleeing” but taking flight. “I wanted to become, even though I had never known what,” Ferrante writes. To say we grew apart is a cheap explanation. It leaves much out. Growing apart—what does that mean? Why do some friendships grow and others grow apart? Where is the line between breathing space and total disconnection? My Brilliant Friend is the first book in the series and it’s a modern masterpiece from one of Italy’s most acclaimed authors. My Brilliant Friend is a rich, intense, and generous-hearted story about two friends, Elena and Lila. Ferrante’s inimitable style lends itself perfectly to a meticulous portrait of these two women that is also the story of a nation and a touching meditation on the nature of friendship. Billington, Michael (March 14, 2017). "My Brilliant Friend review – triumphant staging of Elena Ferrante's quartet". The Guardian.

From pettiness to rape threats, obviously the underlying concern of this essay has been how gendered experience shapes criticism. Despite the fact that scholarship has worked for decades to describe how gender enters into criticism, it remains an unresolved question, and we would posit that this may be because the form of criticism itself disallows admission of the emotional experience in which gender most forcefully resides. Claiming that gender is an emotional experience is not at all to deny that is also an embodied, interpretive, and economic one—instead it is to say that all these conditions combine to generate an emotional state, and that often the state of those who fall under the sign “woman,” and who seek to speak about that experience, is one primarily of irritation: not quite a wound, but a rawness. (Perhaps that’s why so many of us spend so much money on salves.) In high school my friends and I daydreamed about the big house we’d all buy together when we grew up. It would be a big house in Southern California, and every day would be a continuation of our glorious days of summer: dinner parties, Frisbee, car washes, greasy sandwiches, bonfires at the beach. We each had a role: handyman, cook, that guy who does all the spreadsheets. One woman is always leaving the other behind, or, rather, “fleeing” her, as the original “fugge” of the Italian title puts it. First Elena left their grubby, provincial hometown to become a celebrated author, rising academic, and now the wife of a prominent young Florentine professor. But Lila is not to be outdone; although she has dropped out of school, remained poor, and been through a failed marriage, her ambitions remain. Soon Elena falls into postpartum depression and stalls in her career, while the unusually intelligent, still-beautiful Lila finds success as a factory technician and revolutionary voice in the politically agitated moment of 1968. Whoever is faltering in the given moment chases the other down to beg for her support, yet every conversation is inevitably tense, full of bluffing, accusations, and denials, because the balance of power could shift at any moment—a new reversal is often lurking just around the following corner of the sentence. At some point it becomes impossible to tell who is chasing whom. In all cases Ferrante remains ahead of her reader. Elena plans to use birth control and start on a new novel, but her plans are derailed by an early pregnancy. Her new marriage is put to the test as both partners are struggling in their careers and dealing with a newborn. After the baby is finally weaned, Elena draws on inspiration from Lila’s life as a struggling factory worker to try a new novel; however, it only makes it as far as her mother-in-law Adele, who proclaims it poor, sensationalist writing. Elena’s fondness for her husband never makes it to the passion stage; he is devoted to their small family but is detached and dull. He shows no interest in Elena’s gifts, her career, or her devotion to politics. Their relationship begins to suffer. Another child comes along, this one easier than the first, and Elena continues to struggle with significance and her ego.Storia della bambina perduta, L'amica geniale volume 4 (2014; English translation: The Story of the Lost Child, 2015). OCLC 910239891.