holy fuck.

this is my second ferrante novel (i have not yet read the neapolitan quartet). i appreciated her work previously, but this has taken my love for her to a whole new level.

a literal masterclass in female rage. this is the most nuanced portrait of a tortured woman i have ever read. so so so detailed and delicate and beautifully written. crafted with such care. i feel so inspired. astonished that someone was even capable of this. one of those books where you feel so empty inside after reading; the feat of writing seems impossible when you’re up against pieces as good as this.

currently rushing to read everything ferrante has ever written.