Since the Neapolitan novels’ main characters are female, I assumed the books would mainly appeal to a female audience. Just like my experience with Naples itself, Ferrante’s books proved that stereotypes are often wrong. 

On the subway, I started to notice men reading the Neapolitan novels. During Covid quarantine, I watched my husband dive headfirst into the series. When the TV rendition L’amica geniale came out, he urged me to watch new episodes with him at the moment of release (despite it being difficult for me, nine months pregnant, to stay up late). My dad and uncle also found the series and loved it.

Finally, the Neapolitan novels’ unique trajectory to fame yet again offers a parallel with the city they represent – a tendency to do things spectacularly and differently. 

Largely before Ferrante became a household name in Italy, the translations of her books gained fame abroad. I initially heard of L’amica geniale from a friend who’d read the English translation. When I asked my friends in Italy for a copy in Italian, none of them knew of the book – not even those from Naples.

As Ferrante fever grew worldwide, the demand for input from Ferrante herself increased. But that was not possible! Ferrante is a pen name, and the author has kept their identity secret. This choice propelled the books’ translators into the spotlight – a really cool side effect – as translation is typically an underappreciated profession that goes under the radar. 

As you can see, I am in love with this series and so impressed. Perfectly personifying one of Italy’s most unique cities, the Neapolitan novels demonstrate that special power Italy has: the ability to surprise, connect, and ignite passion in people all over the world.