Just playin wit da font sizes n shiet
This novel had a certain rhythm to it I can barely try to describe. Firstly Eco's desire in talking about whatever he wanted to learn about hit its peak with this book and sometimes falls into tedium. Unlike however, the discussions are frequently only tangentially related to the plot and not at all representative of what "should be happening" (specifically in the middle). Stupid as I may be, I am only beginning to realize that this is a book about aging and regrets. Roberto invents Ferrante as an evil character in childhood as that would be unexplored territory for him. Due to his stunted mental growth due to the loss of his father and the battle of Montferrat however this synthesizes with his coming-of-age and Ferrante is now everything he is not: a cunning gambler, a seducer of women, the unrestrained id on a rampage through the salons of Paris.
