I am in Korea now. I am here to be with my sick wife, who, to save her life, gets weekly injections of chemicals that kill the parts of her body that follow the rules in an attack on the parts that don’t. Each week, she dies a little more in order to live a little longer.
In my essay earlier this year about the Marmo claim, I noted how odd it was for Americans in particular to care about the identity since the answer was certainly to be some Italian academic or writer that they’ve never heard of before. Ferrante was never going to secretly be Jonathan Franzen or Zadie Smith. In short, the “gossip” factor of the revelation was inevitably going to pretty much nil for anyone not living in Italy (and probably for most living there too).