“For all the days of her life, she had reduced the uneasiness of bodies to paper and fabric, and perhaps it had become a habit, and so, out of habit, she tacitly re-thought what was out of proportion, giving it proper measure. I had never thought about this, and now that I had I couldn’t ask her if it really had been like that. Everything was lost.”
—————-
This was the first book I’ve read by Ferrante. I actually can understand why people love her so much, as this book had glimmers of excellence to me. 

I honestly think that I was just too confused about the plot to really appreciate any literary genius that may have been present here. It’s possible that’s because I read this in the middle of the night on a long flight. I really didn’t understand the characters and found myself quite put off by many of the things they did. 

The reveal of the truth of the main character’s past was very sad, and made sense that she would have told a different story as a child. I think maybe if I were to reread this a bit slower or as an audiobook, and now with more plot context, I may enjoy it more. 

I did appreciate the exploration of a somewhat fraught mother/daughter relationship and the way the main character tried to understand this loss and her past. 

Just not a great read for me.