Tag: book-review

Books: The Lying Life of Adults. A Novel by Elena Ferrante, 2019

I have previously had mixed feelings about the writings of Elena Ferrante. My esteem of her rose after the film adaptation of “The Lost Daughter” by Maggie Gylenhaal, a truly original and thought-provoking film. My initial complaints about her fiction were related to the first part of the Neapolitan quartet – “My Brilliant Friend” which I found cliched and uninspiring, especially her very traditional class-struggles approach. In contrast – I was impressed by “Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay” which is an example of an in-depth look into the motherhood and womanhood themes of her previous books and a sort of more incisive continuation of “The Lost Daughter.” In the former, I enjoyed the string of character studies – contradictory and complex, the prose – dense and subtle, the non-judgemental representation of opposing kinds of “femininity,” the ambiguity of female strife for independence as a mix of libration and egotism. “We all narrate our lives as it suits us.” writes Ferrante. This is the powerful message of “Those Who Stay and Those Who Leave” – and it is the meta-revelation of the first-person narrative in that novel.

In “The Lying Life of Adults,” this principle is taken to a level of arbitrariness. An exceptionally smart girl, the author wants us to believe, is debunking the “narrative” of the adults that surround her as lies. Doing that she builds her own, supposedly innocent and honest, narrative. Not a new thing, by the way (i.e. What Maisie Knew) . The problem with the narrative of the coming-of-age girl, is that at some point the “disbelief” cannot be suspended. It becomes impossible to give credit to her unusual for her age intelligence, her interest in higher matters of politics and philosophy, the impression she creates for adults and peers, and her supposedly penetrating representations of the adults in her life. This time, Ferrante is invested too much in binary oppositions: ugly-beautiful, dreamy-cynical, rich-poor, entitled-self-made, so that instead of transforming into psychological “depth” the oppositions come across as confusing and arbitrary. In the main character’s narrative everything becomes possible and hence — not engaging.

Books: All the Lovers in the Night, a Novel by Mieko Kawakami, 2022, originally published in Japanese 2011

My first experience of Mieko Kawakami’s writing, a novelist and poet from Osaka. Very impressive talented prose! The first half of the novel is a fascinating in-depth description of excruciating loneliness.

A socially awkward Fuyuko, the protagonist, a proofreader by profession, finds it extremely hard to communicate with people. She discovers that having a drink helps. Slightly ironic and hurtfully honest, the narrative progresses through the daily ordeals of being alone. Proofreading becomes a metaphor for a specific attitude to life – reading without really getting into the content of the book but just looking for the errors in it… Another topic that is developed intricately to reach metaphorical power is the physical aspect of light and color. Kawakami’s descriptions of the mundane sometimes reach Knausgaardian dimensions.

The “female condition” is represented in several well-written scenes – the protagonist examining the shelves of a modern bookstore self-help section, her first sexual experience, her conversations with two female friends – the “happily married with children” one, and the “sleeping around fashionista.” Kawakami is not interested in making judgments, she is recording the female tragi-comedy in a cool incisive style.

The second half of the novel, with the appearance of a love interest, is more banal as a story because it is seasoned with the hope of happiness for the main character. And the hope of happiness takes a trivial form, promising the reader an American rom-com finale. But no, Kawakami is not providing one. An appropriate ending for a novel like this is finding strength to triumph over disappointment.