It was during that journey to Via Orazio that I began to be made unhappy by my own alienness. I had grown up with those boys, I considered their behavior normal, their violent language was mine. But for six years now I had also been following daily a path that they were completely ignorant of and in the end I had confronted it brilliantly. With them I couldnt use any of what I learned every day, I had to suppress myself, in some way diminish myself. What I was in school I was there obliged to put aside or use treacherously, to intimidate them. I asked myself what I was doing in that car. They were my friends, of course, my boyfriend was there, we were going to Lilas wedding celebration. But that very celebration confirmed that Lila, the only person I still felt was essential even though our lives had diverged, no longer belonged to us and, without her, every intermediary between me and those youths, that car racing through the streets, was gone. Why then wasnt I with Alfonso, with whom I shared both origin and flight? Why, above all, hadnt I stopped to say to Nino, Stay, come to the reception, tell me when the magazine with my articles coming out, lets talk, lets dig ourselves a cave that can protect us from Pasquales driving, from his vulgarity, from the violent tones of Carmela and Enzo, and alsoyes, alsoof Antonio?
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About Elena Ferrante
Elena Ferrante was Italian pseudonymous italian writer. Elena Ferrante is a pseudonymous Italian novelist. Ferrante's books, originally published in Italian, have been translated into many languages. Read more on Wikipedia →