i'm not quite sure what to say about this book.. the story (i guess story isn't quite the right word for a memoir) was interesting but was told in a fairly matter of fact way. i'm sure this is reflective of the author wanting to use her mother's voice rather than her own. her mother seemed to have a streak of childishness part of which likely stemmed from her lack of formal education. at times, though, she seems to be quite poetic in her own right and yet.. the writing style just sort of falls flat.

“Perchè ci riconciliamo col passato soltanto quando diventiamo vecchi e la nostra vitalità appassisce?
Perché soltanto allora rattoppiamo la nostra nuova vita e quella vecchia, come i vestiti di mia zia?”

Una storia, come poche.