If you’re looking for a book that quietly pulls you in and refuses to let go, The Cursed Friend by Beatrice Salvioni might just be it.
I finished it last night—and honestly, it’s one of those books that makes you stay up way later than you should, telling yourself “just one more chapter” over and over again.
A Story That Hooks You Instantly
From the very beginning, this novel has that addictive quality. It’s not fast-paced in a traditional sense, but there’s something about the tension, the relationships, and the underlying unease that keeps you turning pages.
You don’t just want to know what happens—you need to.
Echoes of Elena Ferrante (In the Best Way Possible)
It’s impossible not to notice the similarities to Elena Ferrante’s work—and I mean that as a compliment.
At times:
- Francesca really reminded me of Lenù
- Maddalena gave me strong Lila vibes
The dynamic between them carries that same intensity, admiration, imbalance, and emotional dependence you can read in My Brilliant Friend. But it never feels like a copy—more like a natural influence that adds depth to the story.
Seeing the World Through a Child’s Eyes
One of the most powerful aspects of the book is that it’s told entirely through the eyes of Francesca, who is just 12 years old.
This matters—a lot.
We experience everything through her limited understanding - Fascism, with all its rituals, feels almost normal, even comforting at times, because it offers a sense of belonging that a teen girl desperately looks for.
What might seem absurd or disturbing to us is filtered through the perspective of a child trying to make sense of her world.
Two Girls, Two Very Different Lonelinesses
Maddalena is seen as “the cursed one,” but in many ways, she’s stronger than everyone else.
She’s forced to survive on her own, with a mother who is distant and largely absent, who can't forgive her for something that happened in the past. Yet her siblings form a surprisingly solid support system, and seem to give her all the strength she needs.
In contrast, Francesca’s life looks “proper” from the outside—but it’s emotionally empty.
Her family dynamic is quietly heartbreaking:
- A mother obsessed with appearances, often cruel and even abusive
- A father who likely loves her, but doesn’t know how to show it
- A housemaid who is the only one who genuinely seems to care
It’s the kind of household that feels painfully familiar even today—the emotionally distant father, the unstable and narcissistic mother. What’s interesting is that it’s not portrayed as unusual or cruel. It’s simply normal for that time and context.
A Friendship That Feels Both Beautiful and Unsettling
The relationship between Francesca and Maddalena is intense—but also a little disturbing. Francesca clings to Maddalena like a lifeline. It’s not entirely healthy… but it’s completely understandable, given the context.
Given her emotional isolation, Maddalena represents freedom, strength, and a way out of the hurt. She feels understood and protected.
And that kind of attachment comes with its own risks.
Violence, Injustice, and Society—Always in the Background
What I really appreciated is how the book handles its heavier themes.
Violence, social inequality, gender roles, and injustice are always present—but never forced. They sit quietly in the background, like invisible forces shaping everything:
- Class differences
- The role of women
- The pressure of appearances
- The impact of war and loss
Francesca doesn’t fully grasp these realities at first. It’s only towards the end, as she matures, that she begins to truly see them—and understand how absurd and unfair her world can be.
An Ending That Feels Earned
The ending is, in many ways, a culmination of everything Francesca has been all along. Her strength and courage were always there—she just couldn’t see them.
And then, finally, she does.
There’s something almost surreal about the chaos of the final moments, especially seen through a child’s eyes. The image of an angry crowd is both frightening and absurd.
And I have to admit… there’s a certain satisfaction in what happens to Tiziano.
Should You Read The Cursed Friend?
Absolutely! I would recommend this book to anyone—but especially if you’ve loved Elena Ferrante’s work.
It’s emotional without being melodramatic, dark, but deeply human and quietly powerful. And most importantly, it stays with you long after you’ve finished it.
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