I am a late arrival to the Neapolitan novels. Everyone seems to have read them. And of course, there is the show. It is the story of two girls, two friends growing up in Italy in 1950s. The first book in the series deals with early life and adolescent years leaving us at a point where one of the friends get married.
It is a different world. A different life. It is one of the points of view that one doesn’t read about much because people living those lives perhaps don’t get the time to write it down, or are not people of letters. Their lives are full, intense. Even David Copperfield’s life seems a far cry from the daily lives of these folks in Naples. The story is from the point of view of someone who has not had a privileged life, or privileged upbringing, or even exposure to privilege (the way DC has), and yet, they grow up and write this account.
It is not just that the material means are little. It is the dichotomy. The struggles of life would perhaps resonate with so many of the girls growing up in developing countries even now, 70 years down the line, who traverse two different worlds in their early lives. The age-old, traditional, paternal world of home, where family, women’s roles, women’s opportunities are still rooted in ancient ages, and then the other world of modern education exposing them to ideas, books, thoughts, and people and exposing them to lifestyle, culture, of what they return to every night. It is interesting, to grow up like that.
In a sense, it reminds me of the autobiographical writings of Simone De Beauvoir and Doris Lessing (the two writings I read last year, the first books of each of their memoirs) where the authors are growing through the same years as Lila and Elena. Girls growing up in different parts of the world, last century, going to school, living at home, relating with their families, siblings and friends, relating with others’ expectations and their own expectations of themselves.
I am touching upon the book’s characters, but the book is not about Lila or about Elena, it is about their friendship, their lives together. And it is enjoyable. But perhaps where my thoughts linger most after reading are always on the lives lived by those characters where my mind imagines itself in their shoes living their lives.
I enjoy reading about the books other people read, about things they are learning, and about the hardwork they are putting in. It warms my heart to see honest effort. It might sound strange, but the best loved passages in the book are where Elena balances her work at school with her home, and with discipline and will decides to work early in the morning and late at night to ensure that she stays on course for next classes. Things like these make me wonder that perhaps people who have less are the most driven and motivated. And perhaps having less is a blessing in disguise.
Then there is the brilliant Lila. After brilliantly pursuing excellence in whatever she does, she goes on to read and master what she reads. One can almost understand and identify with Elena's fascination with Lila. What it perhaps refers to is the unattainable, the slightly out of reach, the out of bounds, but just enough to fascinate, to be desired, knowing that you fall short, like someone in a Zeno's paradox, you'll never reach the desired, just keep getting closer, and left with that feeling of incompleteness to that extent.
Oh the vulnerabilities of being human, of growing up, of caring, of feeling, of knowing too well. Of having what you wish to be always in sight, and yet, knowing that you can not be that. The cruelty of knowing, of seeing more than what can keep you blissful, ignorance is bliss and all that. Of seeing everything in its raw shape, and then sitting, heartbroken.
Another reason why this touches so is growing up where I grew up, I have witnessed some of the heartbreak. Not personally, but so many instances around me. Where I grew up was more privileged than the girls from Naples, but still, middle class, the social construct, of taking care of home (people and times were not rich enough for modern luxuries of gadgets or money-bought luxuries of external help), and the general question of how much do you need to study given that one is a female. After a point, what's the point? Personally, I and a few of my friends have been fortunate, but we come from changing times. We were some of the more fortunate ones, while people around me and families around me still believed in the way things used to be - the traditional, the way society had existed for ages and ages. Then there's this thing about not knowing. When one does not know, one doesn't struggle. It is only when one sees or thinks that there is another way that discontent arises. And with it, the struggle. When you grow up a particular way, the other way is always going to create battles inside you.
That explains some of my love-hate relationship with such fiction. Also the reason I do not enjoy fiction set in India. It is too close for comfort, guess too confrontational. It is a reminder to so much more, of unfairness. It calls to mind things forgotten and may be, forgotten for the better. Gets unpleasant.
So much for the ranting post. I am quite fascinated by the book. I know I’ll seek out the next one at the earliest opportunity, so more, then.