The Days of Abandonment

אחרי כל השבחים הרבים וההתלהבות מאלנה פרנטה הפגישה הראשונה שלי אתה, בספר הזה, הייתה מאכזבת מאוד. לא בגלל שפרנטה לא יודעת לכתוב. את זה היא יודעת, גם אם בסופו של דבר הנושאים שלה הם החומר של רומן זעיר לנשים. הבעיה בספר זה הגיבורה שלו שהיא הדמות הדוחה והאומללה ביותר שפגשתי על דפי ספר. אשה כל כך חסרת חוט שדרה ותכלית אי אפשר לפגוש. איך אישה יכולה לכתוב כך על אישה אחרת. כל דבר שהיא עושה או אומרת דוחה או מרתיע וכך כל הספר - כי כולו אינו אלא סיפור בגוף ראשון שלה ושל מחשבותיה. הגיבורים האחרים חסרי ממד לחלוטין ולא מעניינים. אכזבה. ( )

Not for me. Better for middle aged women readers. The beginning chapters hooked me. I read through it looking for some light, some hope. But it detailed chapter after chapter until the very end the disabling things that happened to her after her husband left her and her children. It was not until the final couple chapters did a faint light appear; and in the end, even that light promised little. ( )

The first half of this is brilliant and the second half is so-so. ( )

I have been a fan of feminist literature for many years. One such author has eluded me until a recent article discussed the Italian writer, Elena Ferrante. My first actual encounter with Ferrante’s works occurred after a trip to the marvelous independent bookstore, Inkwood Books of Haddonfield, N.J. I asked the clerk about Ferrante, and she suggested the “Neopolitan Quartet” of novels, which was sold out, but she did have a copy of The Days of Abandonment. Across the street from the shop was a coffee bistro, so went for a coffee and a scan of the novel. About an hour later, I was hooked, and I accepted the fact this was a powerful novel I could not let pass by again.

William Congreve wrote, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned. Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned” (Congreve, The Mourning Bride, III, viii). Days of Abandonment tells the story of a woman abandoned by her husband, who then takes up with a young woman half the wife’s age. The novel begins, “One April afternoon, right after lunch, my husband announced that he wanted to leave me. He did it while we were clearing the table; the children were quarreling as usual in the next room, the dog was dreaming, growling beside the radiator. He told me that he was confused, that he was having terrible moments of weariness, of dissatisfaction, perhaps of cowardice. He talked for a long time about our fifteen years of marriage, about the children, and admitted that he had nothing to reproach us with, neither them nor me. He was composed, as always, apart from an extravagant gesture of his right hand when he explained to me, with a childish frown, that soft voices, a sort of whispering, were urging him elsewhere. Then he assumed the blame for everything that was happening and closed the front door carefully behind him, leaving me turned to stone beside the sink” This is nothing more than the tiniest of spark which will turn into a conflagration of immense power.

Warning this is an adult novel on the basis of a single chapter when Olga vented all her rage, jealousy, and fury, in a scene of a rather explicit and volcanic nature. A reader will know when it starts, so it is easy to skip. This novel is the most incisive and detailed account of the agony a woman undergoes when she is abandoned by her partner. The prose is mesmerizing and gripping. I could barely put it down for a moment. Here is a scene when Olga decides to seek revenge on her husband. “He again brought his lips to mine, but I didn’t like the odor of his saliva. I don’t even know if it really was unpleasant, only it seemed to me different from Mario’s. He tried to put his tongue in my mouth, I opened my lips a little, touched his tongue with mine. It was slightly rough, alive, it felt animal, an enormous tongue such as I had seen, disgusted, at the butcher, there was nothing seductively human about it. Did Carla have my tastes, my odors? Or had mine always been repellent to Mario, as now Carrano’s seemed, and only in her, after years, had he found the essences right for him” (80-81). You can now skip to page 88 and the beginning of Chapter 18.

In a blurb on the cover, a reviewer for The Guardian wrote, “Ferrante’s novels are tactile and sensual, visceral and dizzying.” Not for the faint of heart, The Days of Abandonment is a masterpiece of the inner workings of the mind of a woman. 5 stars.

--Jim, 12/31/16 ( )

Dark, disturbing....
I got this title from a list stating if you liked Gone Girl, you should enjoy this one. I don't think they compare.
Some folks commented on the Italianess of the characters and I believe that is one reason this southern girl was so disturbed by the behavior of Mario, Olga, Gianni and Ilaria. Carrano, the cellist, to me was a victim.
The Saga begins with Mario walking out on Olga, his wife of fifteen years, and their two children. Olga appears to be blind sided by this.
Olga takes it hard. After all Mario has left her for a younger woman named Carla.
Mario literally just leaves, and does not even leave a contact address or number. He comes back to the apartment occasionally, but lives an entirely separate.
The story gets very painful when Olga, the children and dog become trapped inside the four walls of the apartment with no means of outside communication.
( )