The Neapolitan Novels

I read and enjoyed and also got (un)necessarily involved in really good fiction, thanks to the Neapolitan Novels series by Elena Ferrante. For beginners its a 4 book series, traverses the friendship and story of 2 girls growing up in Naples Italy from 1960s to early 2000s. (I had decided to do a 1/2 yearly books-I-read review post on the blog, but who am I if not a slave to breaking my own resolutions).Things that went through my head as I read and progressed and finally finished this series.

1. For some reason I failed to remember the instances when Lenu or Lila cried in the books. Actual crying.2. I read a book series after a really long time. Last time I read something like this was A song of ice and fire (you know what happened there) and The kingkiller chronicles (3rd book is supposed to be out by this year end or next year, I think). So a part of me could not come to terms that I would *actually* get to read this series to the end in the same year!3. Normally books based in a particular city/country evoke a longing in me to visit the place. I felt nothing like that as I finished these books. I also read up some more on Naples as I progressed and the books don't diverge from what the real Naples is. It's presented as is. Full of violence, crime, contradictions and poverty.4. The writing reflects honesty. Specially of emotions. Elena Greco (one of the protagonists) is doing the narration throughout the series, as (not a spoiler) she is the published writer in the fictional world. Although, Elena's honesty about her own life is at times annoying, verging on self victimizing, her honesty for all other characters reflects that she really loved them.5. Rafaella aka Lila and Elena aka Lenu's friendship can become the lore of modern times. I would have preferred some of the drama that surrounds their life to be not there. Someone may be Netflix should convert this into a series. 6. I LOVED the 3rd (and the 4th comes closest) book in the series the most. Maybe, since it has themes of leaving home to carve an identity, growing up, life changing decisions etc, something I am still grappling with and coming to terms with. 7. Nino Sarratore is a jerk. We all meet one such person in our lives. I think. There are hate tumblrs for Nino Sarratore. LOL.8. I was so disturbed by some of the events, incidents in book 3 that I proclaimed to T, that I am never going to start reading the 4th book and finish the series. I was so done with it. But my OCD prevailed. Also, I wanted to know. So I read like any good person does.9. This is a pretty vague point, but I'll try to articulate nonetheless. Few writers, authors can delve really deep into the nuances of what we feel on a daily basis. Doing so requires a lot of hard work. Translating that onto paper honestly even more so. No wonder each book in this series is 400+ pages long (I read hard copies, shared the carbon footprint with T by bartering). Even reading such stuff is at times very involving and taxing, as you get sucked into it. Maybe Ferrante was coming from a very personal place, maybe these people are real, what happened to them is real. I am glad someone wrote about their lives. Even if under a pseudonym.10. I am not much into choosing favorite characters. But, I want separate stories and books to be written on Michele Solara and Enzo Scanno. Theme being 'Devotion to Lila'11. Also, I think the name of book 4 is not really literal allusion to things happening to characters. Its deeper, its about the lost child within each of them? (or maybe I am overthinking or maybe I am not).12. I cried at the end of book 4. I could not believe that the narration of these intense, complicated, intertwined lives was coming to an end. Not much is revealed about a lot of 'whys' in the books, I am going to have a tough time making peace with that fact.13. The history of the world changing around the girls is captured in the books. From earthquakes to political upheavals to technology's penetration in daily lives. That made the text richer.

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Of Cassini, broken hearts and roses blooming in my borrowed garden