What’s in a re-read?
If there’s one form of reading I almost never indulge in, it’s a re-read. Some people swear by revisiting favorites during different stages of life, and I completely see the appeal, but it’s never something I’ve made time for, given the fresh, unread volumes that are constantly piling up on my bookshelf and bedside.
However, there’s one book I’ve felt an indescribable pull towards ever since I first finished it (my original review dates back to October 12, 2015): My Brilliant Friend. When I first read volume 1 of Elena Ferrante’s Neopolitan Novel tetralogy, I was sold. And yet: I didn’t read the following three. Not for any reason other than the aforementioned never-ending amassing of newer, hotter books. But, with every passing year since my first read, the desire to reacquaint myself with the book’s characters and finally dive into the remaining volumes, grows stronger, unlike many of the reading kicks I embark on that end up revealing themselves as passing fancies.
A few years ago, I expressed to my friend Olivia that I wanted to read the rest of the books, but I couldn’t remember the first one. “It’s a show on HBO (Max) now,” she told me. “So just watch the first season to refresh your memory and then read the rest.”
Watch the first season I did, but, unfortunately, I was unable to stop. My Brilliant Friend is, far and away, my favorite show of all time (yes, GoT is up there, too, for those also following that obsessional train of mine exhaustedly along last year). Ferrante co-wrote the show, and it’s entirely true to the book, enhanced further with stunning cinematography, my favorite score of all time (I was proposed to and walked down the aisle at my wedding to a song I discovered via the show, my favorite musical composition of all time), and a very specific Neopolitan dialect as opposed to classic Italian (except when during school scenes) that adds an extra layer of grittiness and authenticity. And, perhaps most importantly, to me, the show portrays my favorite character in all of literature, Rafaella “Lila” Cerullo, exactly as I’d imagined her.
Again, I couldn’t stop. So, I watched the first season of the show. And the second. And part of the third. And then I finally told myself that, before I watched the rest, and in advance of the fourth season’s release, I would re-read MBF and the volumes that followed.
The opportunity for a re-read presented itself on my vacation this past week. I got all four volumes for Christmas and was off to the races, and was pleased to discover that, on a re-read, I loved the book even more. In fact, it might just be my favorite book of all time.
For those frustrated that we’ve made it seven paragraphs without getting to the plot, thank you for your patience. My Brilliant Friend starts at the end. Our narrator, Elena Greco, gets a call from Rino Cerullo, her former best friend Lila’s son. He can’t find her anywhere; she’s cleared out her closet and even cut herself out of family pictures - determined to disappear without a trace. Elena, frustrated that, despite years of distance, her friend’s shadow still looms large in her life, is determined to tell their story.
From there, we rewind back to Naples in the 1950s, where by-the-book Elena and rebellious Lila strike up an unlikely friendship thanks to their mutual intellectual aptitudes (Elena’s the result of sheer determination; Lila’s an effortless gift). The first book tracks the girls’ childhood and adolescence, from first grade through age eighteen, and we follow Ferrante’s perfect prose along their respective life paths; Elena’s a continued string of successes, Lila’s a roller coaster of disasters and drama - both of them fueled by a desire to impress the other.
My Brilliant Friend isn’t driven by a formulaic plot or bolstered by superficial “shock twists.” Ferrante paints what feels like a rich and realistic portrait of the directions life can take when one grows up in a neighborhood like Lila and Elena’s, and you’ll be rooting for both girls the whole way through.
I flew through MBF on read #2 and also through the second novel, The Story of a New Name (even better, perhaps, than the first). I’m now rewatching the show - a rewarding undertaking with the literary context fresh in my mind - as I embark on the third book, and am almost certain I’ll be done with the series before month’s end. If you’re looking for breathtaking prose (my tactic for keeping track of writing I like is dog-earing the pages, and I cornered about 50% of each of the first two books) and a beautiful story - look no further than Ferrante.