Ferrante’s “real” identity is not a matter of gender, sexuality, or even if she is transgender. It is more important that the person who wrote her first three novels, The Days of Abandonment, Troublesome Love, and The Lost Daughter, chose to identify as a female writer. It is important to note that when she was writing her first three novels, The Days of Abandonment, and The Lost Daughter, her readers were small and her success uncertain; she identified as a female writer.
She continues to do this in her autobiographical nonfiction collection Frantumaglia : A Writer’s Journey, as well as in her self-commentary.
It is not an easy decision in a country such as Italy where the male-dominated media, academia, and publishing deny visibility and respect to women writers despite a long line of exceptional women of letters. Ferrante, however, has chosen to self-identify as a female.
This means, in essence, that the author has chosen to be less important for a very long time: She’s had fewer chances for publication, she’s labelled a writer who writes sentimental novels for female readers, and she’s ignored by cultural reviewers.
She has chosen, not only in her novels, but in numerous articles as well as in correspondences to portray the world through a woman’s point of view. Ferrante has claimed implicitly that the gaze of a woman is decisive.
Ferrante’s Italian audience is aware of the heritage. Social media and newspapers are currently flooded with protests against Ferrante’s “safari” or “ruthless chase.” The pursuit has not revealed anything about Ferrante or her novels, while violating her privacy.
The question that is most frequently asked on Italian social media sites is if the same thing would happen to a successful male author if he had chosen the same level of privacy and confidentiality.
Many women (readers and writers) from abroad have spoken of patriarchal attacks on an author’s choices.
It is unlikely that the answer will be no or, at least, not in such a violent, punitive manner. Italian readers share concerns expressed internationally regarding the handling of this journalistic investigation.
The author is still alive?
Italian readers also share the same desire to find truth in fiction as other fans of the author from around the world. The need to find reality in fiction is so strong that many readers will put aside the line between fact and fiction and attribute fictional events and experiences to the author.
Ferrante’s writing is a bit like this, but with a little extra. Elena Ferrante’s writing is governed, as is much of fiction, by a suspicion: that it’s invented, artificial, unnecessary and doesn’t reflect real life, lived experiences or our identities.
Ferrante’s anonymity saves her from the suspicion that her narrations are artificial, because readers can attribute her stories to her own life. Ferrante’s anonymity is for two diametrically opposite reasons. She wants to draw attention to the importance of the written word as a separate entity from the empirical author. And she rejects any form of showbiz in the author.
Her desire to have her fiction stand on its own is absurd. Ferrante’s anonymity had the exact opposite effect, causing a connection between her fiction and secret identity.
Ferrante’s fictional story evokes a powerful fantasy of memoir, creating a connection between her work and life. Ferrante’s writing can be paradoxically viewed as an infinite memoir because each fragment reflects both a past life and one yet to come.
This is true of all of her books, but it’s even more true of the so-called Neapolitan Novels: My Brilliant Friend, A Story of a New Name, Those who Leave and Those Who Stay and Story of the Lost Child.
Ferrante’s four books do not use flashbacks as a narrative device, which was the case in her first three novels. Time is used as a record of events, even the smallest ones. The progression of time dictates the pace at which the two friends’ formative years unfold.
This female friendship saga’s realistic style has the effect of abolishing the border between fiction and reality. Ferrante places her writing on the border between fiction and memoir and explains how the two are constantly intermingled.
Ferrante may or may not continue writing, but she is certain to continue resisting the assimilation and exploitation of literature by the show-business logic. Her many Italian and other readers have learned, thanks to Gatti’s investigation, that their desire for reality, while legitimate, cannot be satisfied through the invasion of Ferrante’s privacy.