I caved recently and bought My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante. I did not take this decision lightly. For about a year it was:
- Should I get it, everybody’s reading it.
- No, that doesn’t mean anything. Don’t fall for the hype.
- It’s about women and friendships, it might be my kind of book.
- No, it’s too long. Don’t have time for that.
- This isn’t the real author. How intriguing!
- No, I can’t read it if I don’t know who really wrote it.
- Real author revealed! It’s not a celebrity or a man. Go for it.
When I saw the last copy on the shelf at my Barnes and Noble I just went ahead bought it. The last copy. Must be good…right?
Well…it was just okay. Sometimes I couldn’t put it down and sometimes it I didn’t want to pick it up. After a little more than half way, I stopped picking it back up. I found it heavy on description and had too many characters to keep track of. It ended up being not for me but was glad I read it.