“I couldn’t stand those books,” my friend Elena said with great vehemence; “all the characters were just horrible.” It was a sunny afternoon in August and, having hiked up Izaraitz Auzoa, we were luncheoning on the grass by a small Basque chalet serving wine to weary hikers. She was talking about My Brilliant Friend, the first book of Elena Ferrante’s quartet The Neapolitan Novels. Her sister, who, unlike her, had found the strength to read all four books, concurred. She was hoping for a happy resolution, she said. There was none. Personally, I love those books for their candor about friendship. Why did my friend hate them so much? There was the Neapolitan Mafia and the brutality that is so often intermingled with poverty, of course. But what rankled more than anything was the fraught relationship between the two main characters: Lenu and Lila. Lenu and Lila love...
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