Lena & Lila
Although I find the prospect of fame intimidating, I hope I would view it, if it ever came, as a learning process, a step in personal evolution. Most writers dwell in virtual anonymity. Some, although successful, adopt a pseudonym, something I would never do. I want my name on my books even knowing most will likely fade into even further obscurity than they are in at present. I’d never heard of Elena Ferrante until three of the entries in her Neapolitan series came my way via a donation to the floating book shop. Born in Naples in 1943, she has gained international success using that pseudonym. She has been quoted as saying “Books, once they are written, have no need of their authors.” I understand this. Works that last become part of the universal voice. This is the reason I’ve always thought the argument about who really wrote the Shakespeare plays and sonnets is extremely silly. It doesn’t matter. They are a major portion of mankind’s legacy, brilliant portrayal of what it is to be human. Fame matters only to the living. I just finished the first in Ferrante’s series, My Brilliant Friend. Set in post WWII Naples, it is the story of two girls of the same age from humble circumstances, friends from the start of their school days, each highly intelligent in her own way. Lena, the narrator, becomes a star student, which her parents grudgingly allow. Lila’s parents do not encourage her to learn. She is not allowed to advance to middle school and goes to work in her dad’s shoe repair shop. A fiercely determined mighty mite, she takes out a library card in the name of each member of her family, and devours volumes, even teaching herself Latin and Greek, which her friend has the privilege of studying in school. Their characters are fleshed out very well. They navigate the often puzzling mystery of life, their compasses as faulty as any person’s. Late in the narrative Lila describes their personalities to a T: “The difference between you and me, always, has been that people are afraid of me and not of you.” The action spans childhood and adolescence, and includes their friends and relatives, the petty rivalries, old fashion ways, and biases. While not exactly downbeat, it is not a flattering depiction of the human race. There are many characters, and it’s not easy to keep track of all of them. This is a portrait of the nuts and bolts of life. There is nothing more, no plot, which is fine by me. I enjoyed the novel despite the fact that it is overwritten and belabored. The 331 pages require focus. Although Ann Goldstein’s translation is solid, I found the prose wanting in spots. Those who prefer escapist fare should pass. I will not be reading the other books in the series, not because I wasn’t impressed, but because my method these days is to sample one work per author. Ferrante has been awarded several honors, among them the Man Booker Prize and a place in Time magazine’s most influential people of 2016. Journalists have investigated who the author actually is. One even speculated it is a male, which, given the novel, seems highly unlikely. I’m perfectly willing to respect the author’s desire for anonymity. Published in 2012, My Brilliant Friend is still selling well. 2500+ users at Amazon have rated it, forging to a consensus of 3.9 on a scale of five, a tad high by me. It has been adapted into a six-part miniseries. Two other Ferrante novels have made it to the big screen. In the book she often refers to walking along the “stradone.” To my chagrin, it is not explained in any detail, and a web search proved unsatisfying. Here’s a pic that Google Images provided. The area is not identified specifically, although it is definitely in Naples:
There’s an interesting development in MLB. Carter Stewart, a 19-year-old pitching prospect, has chosen to forgo playing in the minor leagues, despite a generous signing bonus, and will begin his pro career in Japan. His thinking is that he will double his earning potential if things work out over the next six years, and then be only 25, plenty young enough to be considered for MLB. He also wants to avoid the long bus rides and minimal pay minor leaguers endure.
My thanks to Mike, who donated a bunch of books, most his daughter’s and of the self help variety; and also to the woman who returned many of the novels in Russian she had bought from me, and who was disappointed I had none in stock. The inventory has again grown ridiculously, but is as good as it gets. Thanks also to Amalia’s home attendant, who purchased two books on Chinese cooking for her son, and to the woman who selected The 8th Confession by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro; and to the Latino couple who went home with the last six of the young adult books I had on hand.
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