THE MEMORY BOX by Kathryn Hughes

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I saw this book at a flea market and, intrigued by the plot, I got it for a few euros. From the first pages I felt a bit annoyed by the adolescent way of writing; as the pages progressed I had to force myself to finish the book, because it always annoys me to do so.
The plot tells of the friendship between a centenarian and a girl: the first with a long experience to tell, the second with a life flattened by a self-centered and manipulative partner. Up to this point the topic would also be interesting, but as the story unfolds we come across:

  • A violent manipulator who is described in an embarrassing, almost caricatural way (the dialogues with his partner are so absurd as to border on the comical)
  • A girl, the companion of the aforementioned, of such accentuated naivety and weakness as to become truly unreliable
  • A five-year-old who thinks and speaks like a thirty-year-old
  • One (or rather, two) Italian suitor who brings together all, absolutely all the clichés about our country
  • Situations that are a little soap opera-like, such as the boyfriend who was thought to be dead and who shows up after years just on the day of his girlfriend's wedding
  • A brother who... Okay, I won't spoil it. But it's yet another ridiculous detail
  • And then off it goes, with a nice swill of dutiful coolness scattered here and there, perhaps accompanied by a sprinkle of healthy economic well-being, which is always there.
    Simply put, a Harmony in disguise.
    Hm...