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. ( )

Pretty awesomely layered. Demands a second reading for sure. ( )

exquisite. ( )