Sujoya - theoverbookedbibliophile (recovering from an arm injury; on a short review-writing break)'s Reviews > Forbidden Notebook

4.5⭐️

“My life always appeared rather insignificant, without remarkable events, apart from my marriage and the birth of the children. Instead, ever since I happened to start keeping a diary, I seem to have discovered that a word or an intonation can be just as important, or even more, than the facts we’re accustomed to consider important. If we can learn to understand the smallest things that happen every day, then maybe we can learn to truly understand the secret meaning of life. But I don’t know if it’s a good thing, I’m afraid not.”

In November 1950 forty –three-year-old Valeria Cossati purchases a black notebook from a tobacconist – a “forbidden” item as the tobacco is not permitted to sell anything but tobacco to his customers. Her journal entries give us a window into Valeria’s home, her family, and Valeria herself as documented over the next six months. Valeria’s life revolves around her family – her husband Michele, and her two grown children Riccardo and Mirella. Financially they are getting by but are not well-off. Valeria is not simply a housewife but also works to supplement her husband’s income- a fact that is frowned upon by her own mother whose family comes from more affluent origins. Valeria is trapped in a conventional marriage despite her having the freedom to work. She is conflicted but unable to express her true feelings, correctly assuming that it would fracture the delicate balance she has established within her family more often that not at the cost of stifling her own wishes and desires.

“I often have a desire to confide in a living person, not only in this notebook. But I’ve never been able to. Stronger than the desire to confide is the fear of destroying something that I’ve been constructing day by day, for twenty years, the only thing I possess.”

Valeria is anxious and consumed by feelings of guilt and fears that her secret diary will be discovered. Multiple times throughout her diary she shares how difficult it is for her to hide this diary and how she keeps changing where she keeps it. She yearns for a “space” that she can call her own – her bedroom is occupied by her husband who spends time listening to music or reading in his free time, her children have their own rooms and she is left to write her entries at night after everyone is asleep in constant fear of being discovered.

“Because when I write in this notebook, I feel I’m committing a serious sin, a sacrilege: it’s as if I were talking to the devil. Opening it, my hands tremble; I’m afraid. I see the white pages, the dense parallel lines ready to receive the chronicle of my future days, and even before I’ve lived them, I’m distressed. I know that my reactions to the facts I write down in detail lead me to know myself more intimately every day. Maybe there are people who, knowing themselves, are able to improve; but the better I know myself, the more lost I become.”

Valeria’s “forbidden” notebook, proves to be an outlet for her most private thoughts, a place she can vent her frustrations, anger, and disappointment towards her marriage, her husband, her children and life in general. Valeria’s diary gives her a voice and the opportunity to be herself and understand herself even though she is unable to share the same with anyone. Valeria struggles as she reflects on her marriage and tries to hold onto the values and principles she has adhered to all her life. She is unable to reconcile with the way her children, her daughter in particular chooses to lead their own. Her husband attributes her conflicts with Marilla to “maternal jealousy” which gives you an idea of how marginalized Valeria is in her own home. She also shares her budding friendship with a colleague, a friendship that does not come with a preconceived set of expectations, unlike all her other relationships

Forbidden Notebook by Alba de Céspedes, translated by Ann Goldstein is a stunningly insightful novel that is both timeless and relevant in its appeal and impactful in its message. The Foreword by Jhumpa Lahiri provides insight into the historical context of this novel. The narrative is shared from Valeria’s perspective through a series of journal entries. Originally published in its original Italian as a series in the magazine La Settimana Incom Illustrata, between December 1950 and June 1951, Valeria’s journal entries give us a glimpse into the societal norms and social class distinctions, gender roles and expectations and the generational differences in terms of mindset and ambition in the post-war years. Mirella and Valeria and their arguments on how women should lead their lives give us insight into how women perceived their roles in a changing society. What strikes you as hypocritical is Valeria’s family’s attitude toward her need for privacy. When mentioned in passing, the very idea of Valeria keeping a locked drawer for her personal use like the other members of her family or even owning a diary where she might write down her thoughts is laughable to the rest of her family. Her husband goes one step further to point out that their daughter Mirella could need a private diary, given her youth and need to keep secrets but why would Valeria need a diary? What could she possibly write in it? Her family’s regard for Valeria despite her being an earning member of the family differs greatly from the respect Michele receives. This is a nuanced and complex novel but the prose is simple yet elegant and the author writes beautifully, engaging the reader from the very first page. The ending might leave you disheartened but will compel you to think about Valeria long after you’ve finished reading her diary.

I paired my reading with the exceptional audio narration by Cassandra Campbell which transported me to Valeria's world.

“When I started writing, I thought I’d reached the point where conclusions could be drawn about one’s own life. But every experience—even the one that comes from this long questioning of myself in the notebook—teaches me that all life passes in the anguished attempt to draw conclusions and not succeeding. At least for me it’s like that: everything seems, at the same time, good and bad, just and unjust, even transient and eternal.”