Reading time: About 1 minute
I like to share interesting pieces of figurative language I encounter in my reading. I write today about metaphors from Elena Ferrante….
I came late to the Elena Ferrante parade.
The pseudonymous Italian novelist published the first of her four famous novels — known collectively as the Neopolitan novels — in 2011. She has said in interviews that she was born in Naples, the daughter of a seamstress, and that she has three sisters. Her knowledge of classical literature has led critics to argue that she must have studied literature. There’s a certain school of thought that perhaps “she” is a “he,” and I’m inclined to agree with that way of thinking. Nevertheless, the image I show at the top of this post pictures an anonymous woman in sunglasses.
The writing skill Elena Ferrante displayed in her 2002 book, The Days of Abandonment, impressed me. But somehow, I was never able to get into My Brilliant Friend, the first and highly celebrated novel of her Neopolitan quartet, when it first came out. I tried several times, inspired by the rave reviews of my friends. But I could never seem to manage to finish it.
This year — on the urging of a friend — I tried again and succeed. I cannot say I loved it. I found the coming of age story of two young girls from Naples to be too brittle for my tastes.
Nevertheless, Ferrante does display some fine figurative language. Here are my favourite examples:
- Her quickness of mind was like a hiss, a dart, a lethal bite.
- In general, I was the pretty one, while she was skinny, like a salted anchovy, she gave off an odor of wildness, she had a long face, narrow at the temples, framed by two bands of smooth black hair.
- The waves rolled in like blue metal tubes carrying an egg white of foam on their peaks, then broke in a thousand glittering splinters and came up to the street with an oh of wonder and fear from those watching.