Book Review: My Brilliant Friend
Earlier this year the New York Times released its 100 Best Books of the 21st Century. ‘My Brilliant Friend’ was number one, I was rather surprised. Naturally, this list appeared after I had read the book; do I think this book is excellent -yes as I’m sure it will be considered a modern classic. However, I didn’t realise it would be rated so highly. But perhaps it’s because I cannot compare it to the other 100 books on the list? Who knows, but the literary structures, modes and plot that make up the mechanics of this novel do deserve a lot of merit.
Petty jealousies, envy, and poverty are the flecks of gold that make up the story of Lila and Lenú in this coming-of-age story set in 1950s Naples. They are the main themes that dictate the two girls as they grow; fairytales and ghouls are what first explain the world around them. Their first gruesome encounter together as friends marks the road on which their fate is sealed. Two dolls, one significantly better than the other are carelessly tossed into a deep dark hole by Lila, seemingly never to be seen again. It is assumed that the boogeyman has stolen their dolls and not childish jealousy that Lenu’s doll is nicer than hers. It is a pivotal moment in their evolving friendship - it marks the beginning and is significant as to how the boogeyman or ‘ogre’ changes throughout the novel. As with most fairytales, there is a lot of blood in the neighbourhood, to the reader it seems horrible, but reading through the eyes of Lenú, it seems like a normal occurrence and not even the horror of a murder changes that point of view. Both girls are conditioned in this turbulent environment but both have very different destinies: Lenú gets to go to school, and Lila does not. It is assumed that Lila is the smarter one, but her parents see her pursuit of education as a burden and useless for a girl.
It was an interesting look at what makes a friendship - at face value, it doesn’t seem like Lila and Lenú have anything in common except that they both grew up in the same neighbourhood surrounded by the same group of people all living under similar circumstances. But it begs the question of nature vs nurture. Lila is arguably the more violent one of the two, whilst Lenú is the softer more sensitive one fighting for Lila’s approval. Or is this a criticism of women’s roles in 1950’s/60’s Italy? Lila clearly wishes to fight back and forge her own path - even enduring physical violence from her own family, to do so. Neither of these women wins - they both lose. And they lose a lot of themselves in competing and loving each other so ardently.
I can see why The New York Times loved this book so much. I think overall the bildungsroman structure of the novel is beautifully done, it puts Jane Eyre, arguably one of the best examples of the literary structure, to shame. If it is not considered a modern classic now, it will be.