Tämä sivusto käyttää evästeitä palvelujen toimittamiseen, toiminnan parantamiseen, analytiikkaan ja (jos et ole kirjautunut sisään) mainostamiseen. Käyttämällä LibraryThingiä ilmaiset, että olet lukenut ja ymmärtänyt käyttöehdot ja yksityisyydensuojakäytännöt. Sivujen ja palveluiden käytön tulee olla näiden ehtojen ja käytäntöjen mukaista.
Once an aspiring writer, Olga traded literary ambition for marriage and motherhood; when Mario dumps her after 15 years, she is utterly unprepared. Though she tells herself that she is a competent woman, nothing like the poverella (poor abandoned wife) that mothers whispered about in her childhood, Olga falls completely apart. Routine chores overwhelm her; she neglects her appearance and forgets her manners; she throws herself at the older musician downstairs; she sees the poverella's ghost. After months of self-pity, anger, doubt, fury, desperation and near madness, her acknowledgments of weaknesses in the marriage feel as earned as they are unsurprising.… (lisätietoja)
This was an enjoyable read: at turns funny, sharp, profane, erotic in a funny way, angry, and philosophical. It reminded me of Fay Weldon's Life and Loves of a She-Devil but with a few more intimate details. It also reminded me of the fury of Euripides' Medea. A wife is spurned by her husband for a younger woman. We watch her descent into a pit of rage. We watch her children. Her dog. Her neighbours. Her identity splinters into the shards of a cubist painting. She picks the pieces up and looks at them with detachment. This part is a mother. This part is a lover. This part is a woman. Wait a minute: is it the woman of a marriage, or a woman as a biological speciman. She seeks to splinter off the traits she acquired from her husband. What is left? A woman who can love again? A woman who is ready to become absorbed again in a new relationship, perhaps. Fortunately, the heroine of the story is Neapolitan, so we get to hear it all. ( )
Good writing and engaging plot. Yet, the story is disturbingly similar to Domenico Starnone's 'Ties', which I read recently. Perhaps with different endings. Hard to believe this is coincident. In general, I like Elena Ferrante's style. But, noticing the similarity took away from my enjoyment. It feels like one was written as a draft to the other. ( )
A beautiful, powerful book. My first reaction was shock at someone daring to retell Beauvoir's even more incredible[b:La Femme rompue|151629|La Femme rompue|Simone de Beauvoir|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1277113227s/151629.jpg|2496851], but Ferrante's novel is so compelling (especially for any of us who have been in a similar situation) and brings the issues into a contemporary light that there is sufficient "newness" to warrant the retelling. I'm still interested in investigating the overlap and differences between the two works though. ( )
Though it's occasionally frustrating to watch Olga hit all the familar marks (one can practically read the signposts: anger, denial, bargaining, depression, acceptance), we still root for her, for her damaged kids, even for the next imperfect man waiting for her attentions.
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
One April afternoon, right after lunch, my husband announced that he wanted to leave me.
Sitaatit
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
"Now I know what an absence of sense is and what happens if you manage to get back to the surface from it. You, you don't know. At most you glanced down, you got frightened, and you plugged up the hole with Carla's body."
Viimeiset sanat
Tiedot englanninkielisestä Yhteisestä tiedosta.Muokkaa kotoistaaksesi se omalle kielellesi.
I pretended to believe him and so we loved each other for a long time, in the days and months to come, quietly.
Once an aspiring writer, Olga traded literary ambition for marriage and motherhood; when Mario dumps her after 15 years, she is utterly unprepared. Though she tells herself that she is a competent woman, nothing like the poverella (poor abandoned wife) that mothers whispered about in her childhood, Olga falls completely apart. Routine chores overwhelm her; she neglects her appearance and forgets her manners; she throws herself at the older musician downstairs; she sees the poverella's ghost. After months of self-pity, anger, doubt, fury, desperation and near madness, her acknowledgments of weaknesses in the marriage feel as earned as they are unsurprising.
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