Europa Editions The Lost Daughter

One of the finest books I have read. It gently questions our beliefs and norms imposed upon us by the so called society.

Gotta admit, I really liked reading it. It's the English translation of an Italian novel by Elena Ferrante. The writing is gorgeous, quite straightforward, something different from my usual reads. Explores a mother's viewpoint and delves into the mother daughter dynamic issues. All in all, I'd totally suggest this book to anyone! Just 140 pages, can breeze through it in a day.

I read this book specifically because I was intrigued at the idea of a story about a mother who sort of lacked the expected bond with her children. I went in with an open mind wanting o understand her more. Maybe it’s me but I don’t understand what the author wants the reader to take away from the story. This protagonist was generally unlikable and the main conflict of the story actually had nothing to do with her family itself. She did something really selfish and pointless. The end left a lot to be desired. Overall an interesting read, but don’t expect to walk away with anything.

I have to say, first off, that I am not the overly literal-minded American. Sorry if that’s insulting, but at least we are allowed to say our minds in this country. What I mean is, by way of example, I love incandescent lighting and always have. I don’t care if LEDs give you all the light in the world for free. That matter not. So that Bizzarre preamble is to say no, I do not look at novels only for how they end; that would be utter stupidity. Next thing for background, I am a male. And I suppose the one other thing I should add is yes the culture in the novel is far different than what we have in America. Given all that I want to speak of the ending, but don’t worry I’m not gonna give away the ending. It’s only a few sentences really, but I won’t give it away. What I will say is it’s wonderful poignancy is done in such elegant simplicity; it brings tears to your eyes. And of course you’re not supposed to cheat and look at the ending but as well you won’t see its poignancy without the context of the book. I guess we could say it’s kind of a litmus test for whether you got the main character – it’s all in her mind that you’re understanding everything by the way, so first-person close as the litterary people would say – that she is a woman, she is a mother and she does do dialecticism on these facts especially about being a mother. But she does it, that is the dialecticism, not in an analytical philosophers way which I am really by amateur standards with six philosophy courses etc. etc. but she she does the dialecticism in an emotional way. Admittedly that may be of more interest to females and indeed mothers but still you might find it interesting to connect somewhat phenomenologically with her because the writing is amenable to that, even for males. And then, like I said, the litmus test could be did you get the poignancy of the ending. Well that was a rather bizarre review I admit but there is a lot of dialectic turmoil that I think anybody can relate to. Even if it’s not about motherhood we probably all have had similar dialectical phenomenological turmoils or ambivalencies if you want to put it in what is meant to be a strong word (we don’t have a weak word for ‘ambivalent’, we only have ‘wishy-washy’ as the weak form) but you do get to be inside somebody’s head and going through their phenomenological psychological dialectical musings and the book is really not all that long if you want that consolation.

At just 140 pages, The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante was our book club pick this month. Despite its short length, it’s an intensely descriptive read—I could almost smell the sea air and feel the textures of the surroundings as I turned the pages. The story follows Leda, a character who is both depressing and selfish. The pacing is slow, and while there isn’t much dialogue, there’s a heavy focus on her inner thoughts—particularly her reflections on being both a mother and a daughter. Ferrante doesn’t shy away from exposing the nuances and drudgery of family life, and that honesty makes the book thought-provoking, even when it’s uncomfortable. I have to admit, I’m torn. Did I enjoy reading it? Honestly, no. But is it well written? Absolutely. At times, it felt like I was wading through the rambling thoughts of a woman who isn’t particularly likeable, which made it a short book that somehow took longer to finish than expected. In conclusion, while The Lost Daughter is beautifully crafted and layered with meaning, it won’t be a book for everyone. If you enjoy deep psychological explorations of flawed characters, you may find it rewarding. For me, it was a clever piece of writing—but not an enjoyable one.