|From The Publisher*||The Dry Heart begins and ends with the matter-of-fact pronouncement, "I shot him between the eyes." Everything in between is a plunge into the chilly waters of loneliness, desperation, and bitterness-and as the tale proceeds, the narrator's murder of her flighty husband takes on a certain logical inevitability.|
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â In this powerful novella, Natalia Ginzburg's writing is white-hot, fueled by rage, stripped of any preciousness or sentimentality; she transforms an ordinary dull marriage into a rich psychological thriller that might pose the question: why don't more wives kill their husbands?
|Review Quote*||A flawlessly negotiated descent into the deep and dangerous chasm separating love's fantasies from life's realities.|
|Review Quote*||Ginzburg never raises her voice, never strains for effect, never judges hercreations. Though blessed with the rhythms and tensile strength of verse, herlanguage is economical and spare, subordinate to the demands of the story.Like Chekhov, she knows how to stand back and let her characters exposetheir own lives, their frailties and strengths, their illusions and private griefs.The result is nearly translucent writing-writing so clear, so direct, so seeminglysimple that itgives the reader the magical sense of apprehending the world forthe first time.|
|Review Quote*||I'm utterly entranced by Ginzburg's style-her mysterious directness, her salutary ability to lay things bare that never feels contrived or cold, only necessary,honest, clear.|
|Biographical Note||Natalia Ginzburg (1916-1991), who authored twelve books and two plays; who, because of anti-Semitic laws, sometimes couldn't publish under her own name; who raised five children and lost her husband to Fascist torture; who was elected to the Italian parliament as an independent in her late sixties - this woman does not take her present conditions as a given. She asks us to fight back against them, to be brave and resolute. She instructs us to ask for better, for ourselves and for ourchildren" (Belle Boggs, The New Yorker). Frances Frenaye (1908-1996) was an American translator of French and Italian literary works. She worked at the Italian Cultural Institute from 1963 to 1980 and was responsible for editing its newsletter. She won the Denyse Clairouin Memorial Award (1951) for her translation from French to English of Georges Blond's The Plunderers and J.H.R. Lenormand's Renee. She also wrote for an Italian newspaper, Il Mondo, for some time. Frenaye graduated from Bryn Mawr College and spent 50 years living in Manhattan before dying in Miami Beach."|