My Brilliant Friend Season-Premiere Recap: Sacrifices

As a reader deeply immersed in the world of Elena Ferrante and her captivating characters, I must say that this latest episode has left me both intrigued and saddened. Lenù’s journey continues to be a rollercoaster ride of decisions, sacrifices, and regrets, mirroring the complexities of life itself.


During a quiet period between winter vacation and spring term in college, I immersed myself in the first book of Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Quartet, titled “My Brilliant Friend.” I devoured it relentlessly throughout the day, without any breaks. At that moment, I found myself grappling with a concern about the discussions in my college’s feminist club. I felt that there was a significant disconnect between our intellectual discourse and the practical application of these ideas to our personal lives. In other words, how could we translate our beliefs into tangible actions?

The Story of the Lost Child, the final installment of Ferrante’s four-part series, is primarily centered around the exploration of a significant question throughout its narrative – indeed, Lila and Lenù’s friendship serves as an ongoing theme to different extents. As we recall from the previous season, Lenù had published a second book and left her husband for Nino Sarratore. This novel, inspired and written under Nino’s guidance while awaiting his return, delves into “men’s construction of womanhood” – Anna Karenina, Emma Bovary, Eve, and how these prototypes of femininity were all conceptualized by men in their own likeness.

Following the publication of her book advocating women’s emancipation, Lenù embarks on a journey of self-liberation. At the beginning of “The Separation”, Lenù, portrayed by Alba Rohrwacher for the first time since the initial season, is still with Nino in Montpellier, strengthening their bond. She attempts to contact her daughters, Pietro, but fails to reach them. Alongside her passionate affair with Nino, the growing success of her book keeps Lenù occupied, leading to delays in her return to Florence for more events in Paris. Despite this, Nino insists on returning, expressing concerns that living abroad won’t help their relationship progress. For their life together to materialize, they must confront their spouses and children back home. Lenù suspects Nino has been speaking with his wife, Eleonora, but he denies it.

Nino Sarratore, it’s important to note, embodies the perfect example of a manipulative man we refer to as an “esquerdomacho” in Brazilian Portuguese – men who use leftist political language to deceive women. This type of person ranks among my most detested male personalities, even surpassing blatant misogynists like Michele Solara due to their underhanded tactics. Nino’s behavior infuriates me to no end. Last season, witnessing him enjoying lunch at Lenù and Pietro’s home, playing affectionately with their children, subtly pressuring Pietro to take on more household responsibilities so Lenù could focus on writing and thinking, now contrasted with his recent actions of sneaking away with her in hotel rooms while taking secret phone calls, leaves me feeling exasperated.

Despite Lenù’s affection for him, she acknowledges that there’s something fundamentally off about him –– her dreams have been warning her of his untrustworthiness all along. Upon returning to her old apartment in Florence, she finds it vacant; a lonesome Christmas tree stands neglected in a corner, and she searches every room for her daughters. Through a phone call, Lenù learns that Adele, her mother-in-law, took the children so Pietro and Lenù could work through their issues. This arrangement irks Lenù not because plans were altered without her knowledge –– after all, she was never going to stick to those plans, having planned to spend Christmas with her family instead –– but because she arrived home at 3 a.m., missing the dinner they were supposed to share. The only greeting awaiting her in Florence was a string of frustrated messages from Lila, the kind that read “where are you?

Although it’s not Lenù’s fault for what transpires later, when she encounters Pietro in the kitchen in the morning, her approach is less than ideal. Instead of starting with a calm conversation, she questions why she wasn’t included in the girls’ Christmas plans. She suggests that some sort of arrangement should be made about their future steps. Her idea is to live apart from the girls in another flat and for Pietro to visit them during weekends; however, her suggestion of residing in Naples causes him to react strongly. He slams a cabinet, causing injury and alarm to Lenù, yelling that he doesn’t want his daughters growing up in Naples. After calming down slightly, Pietro calls Immacolata, who needs to be picked up from the train station, hoping she can help reason with Lenù. Despite his violent outburst being unwarranted, it appears Pietro is also frightened, as evidenced by his call for help.

The action of Pietro asking Immacolata to intervene in a dispute reveals his disconnection from Lenù’s family and background. Initially, Immacolata attempts the traditional approach by urging them both to apologize and express love. However, Lenù remains steadfast in her stance, causing Immacolata to become enraged. She physically assaults and verbally abuses Lenù, calling her a prostitute, claiming that Lila is superior, wishing ill on Lenù’s relationship with Nino, and even suggesting that Lenù was the negative influence when Lila started behaving well without her. In self-defense, Lenù pushes her mother back, who falls heavily to the floor. “You are no longer my daughter,” she says before requesting divine intervention. The scene is intense and hard to bear witness to. Later, through a closed door, Pietro tells Lenù: “It’s too much. Even you don’t deserve this.

In this scenario, if Immacolata is unequivocally disowning herself, Lenu initially seeks maternal compassion from Adele. Adele, a separated woman with two daughters and her own aspirations, suggests that Lenu must confront the hard truths and make sacrifices. However, Lenu feels it’s inappropriate to sacrifice her daughters to Adele in pursuit of freedom, as it would align with the Airotas’ growing image of her. At this moment, Lenu doesn’t fully grasp this perspective; she just needs the girls to remain there while she is in Milan for a book event. There, she discusses the tragedies faced by the neighborhood’s women and mothers frequently, though she seldom mentions Lila by name. One person questions what Lenu herself is accountable for. “Is it learning male language to achieve more success with your books?” This question intrigues Ferrante, who has occasionally discussed her own struggles with the idea that female authors must adopt a masculine literary sensibility.

At Mariarosa’s restaurant, Lenu discovers that Franco and Silvia, who were invited for a reunion dinner, have become noticeably more gentle since their recovery from the traumatic encounter with a group of fascists that left Franco blind and severely injured Silvia. Franco feels that words are losing their significance, representing a profound divide between his perspective on life and Lenu’s – she sees the world as never more vibrant. Nino phones her, delivering his signature emotional plea: he claims he can’t live without her, questions if she still needs him, and laments how much he misses her. He asks her to meet him at a coastal town the following day before the school year commences and their schedules become hectic, causing Lenu to delay picking up her children once again in order to see him. If I didn’t despise this man so deeply, I might have found their heartfelt reunion at the train station touching.

The passage’s meaning remains intact if we rephrase it like this: A weekend stretches into months, years, even a year and a half. A series of authentic videos depicting Italian political events from that era forms the backdrop for Lenù’s recap of those times –– watching, learning, joining in, but most importantly, bonding with each other. Lenù and Nino felt as if their “real life had started.” Radiating the confidence of newfound love, their optimism permeated their every action. At a gathering, Nino openly criticized his peers –– not even their jeers, fueled by anger at his criticism of Italian politician Aldo Moro, could dampen him. The sunlight illuminates them as they… I suggest using the term “playfully interact” instead of “frolic,” to better describe their activities around town.

Lenù starts to sense that it’s the right moment for her and Nino to share a home, integrating their relationship more deeply into their children’s lives. This idea resonates with her as she believes she can fully rely on him, a conviction strengthened when, during a morning in bed, Nino reveals his long-standing jealousy of Lenù’s intellect. As teenagers, he had asked her to write an article for the school newspaper, a significant event in their youth and a source of early disillusionment. It was not that he didn’t think the essay was good enough; rather, he felt intimidated by her intelligence and envious of her ability to make it public. In Lenù’s eyes, his confession signifies the confirmation of their mutual trust: they can be open and honest with each other, even about their unpleasant emotions.

As Lenù is on the verge of proposing cohabitation to him, the phone suddenly rings. Pietro lies in the hospital, his head bandaged and his temper subdued. A gang of fascists attacked him, using a stick to strike his head. By his bedside stands a kind woman named Doriana, and when Adele arrives with the girls, Lenù feels a sharp pain as she realizes that during her absence, life continued without her involvement. She is left out of the family circle; Dede in particular finds it difficult even to look at her. It’s Pietro who offers comfort, while Adele permits them to have a soda. Despite his hospitalization, Pietro exudes a remarkable strength: his contentment with Doriana and the joy of fatherhood give him an inner peace that makes Lenù appear immature in comparison. When she suggests returning to Naples with Nino and the girls, he doesn’t object. Gently smiling at her, brushing aside a lock of her hair, he seems touched by a tender affection, almost like a father.

However, not every Airota shares the same feelings of pity. When Lenù discusses their upcoming move to Naples with her daughters later that evening, she encounters Adele who firmly declares her opposition to raising the girls in the harsh, violent environment of Naples, especially under someone as self-absorbed as Lenù. Even normally calm and composed Adele becomes agitated, voicing her concerns to Lenù. Lenù, bolstered by her newfound assertiveness, tells Adele that her mother is superior to her. This comment, which could be perceived as an insult, doesn’t faze Adele. She simply waits for Guido, her husband and the girls’ grandfather, to return home before addressing dinner. Additionally, Lila called repeatedly.

Throughout Lenu’s relationship with Pietro, Guido has been largely absent, but his influence was strong. When Lenu decided to marry into the family, Guido represented the life Lenu was giving up, not just a familial sacrifice, but a social and professional one as well. To drive this point home, he plays a malicious trick: he gets Dede and Elsa to reveal their last name – Airota, like him and Pietro. On the other hand, Lenu’s last name is Greco, a name with “no tradition,” much like Nino’s, who, in Guido’s opinion, is losing his standing as a writer. As Adele explains, an intelligence without tradition means that Nino, like Lenu, will do whatever it takes to succeed. Although they don’t say much to each other, the honesty of their conversation hints at the old mutual respect between them. I sensed a touch of sadness in Adele when she said, “The pact is broken, and everything changes.

As a cinema enthusiast, I find myself recalling Lila’s past cautions about Nino and his destructive influence on women’s lives. Despite this, I persist in my pursuit of him. In a moment reminiscent of carefree children, I make the bold move to invite Nino to share a life with me in Naples. He leaps at the opportunity with unbridled excitement; it appears as if I had just announced a joyous secret such as being pregnant. Nino also discloses that he has met with Lila, who has been relentless in her efforts to reach me, even going so far as to contact Eleonora. Lila insists on speaking with me urgently.

As a movie enthusiast, I’m not the only one in our neighborhood trying to reach out to Lenù. Carmen is eager to catch up with her as well; she’s consistently concerned about her brother Pasquale, who we last saw evading the police alongside Nadia Galiani. Carmen believes that Lenù might be able to speak with Mrs. Galiani and gather some information about her brother, whose whereabouts remain a mystery. Despite my attempts to avoid Lila, Lenù has agreed to meet up with Carmen for coffee. In the meantime, Lila has assumed something of a benefactor role in our neighborhood, thanks to her newfound wealth.

In Più

It’s quite intriguing to observe fresh actors stepping into the roles of Lenù and Lila, following three seasons with Margherita Mazzucco and Gaia Girace. I’m already smitten by Alba Rohrwacher’s portrayal –– she infuses a delicate maturity into her character, displaying a mix of firm determination and unstable insecurity. In the coming weeks, we’ll be seeing more of Irene Maiorino as Lila, but it’s almost eerie how much she resembles a grown-up version of Girace.

In this production, I found it brilliantly integrated to incorporate authentic news clips from Italy’s political events in the 1970s -– such historical context is essential for Ferrante’s character development, and I was captivated by the innovative way the director handled the expansion of the narrative.

In the recent season, my phone has virtually stepped into the narrative as a pivotal character. During phone conversations, the distinction between dialogues and phone calls can blur, due to the lack of audible cues like tone or body language for the reader. However, this device is incredibly powerful: the sound of it ringing, Lenù’s posture when she talks on it, Nino’s hushed whispers – all these details combine to infuse the telephone with a deep significance.

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2024-09-10 05:54