The Naples in Elena Ferrante's Neapolitan novels isn't the Italy you see on postcards. The neighborhood she describes in vivid detail is poor and unglamorous — and it may or may not be based on the neighborhood where she herself grew up. Ferrante is actually a pen name and very little is known about the true identity of the author. She does almost no publicity, but that hasn't stopped the books from achieving cult status. Her latest, The Story of the Lost Child, comes out on Tuesday.

No one knows for sure, but the books are widely believed to be Ferrante's thinly veiled autobiography. The first-person narrator is named Elena. She's also an accomplished writer, reflecting on her youth in postwar Naples, and her constant struggle to flee the poverty and violence, even as the place keeps pulling her back throughout her life. At the center of it all is her complicated relationship with Lila, her lifelong best friend.

My guides today — Carmen Vicinanza and Lia Polcari — are locals, and longtime friends themselves. ("We look like teenagers but we're not," Vicinanza says with a laugh). They've promised to take me to what they claim is Ferrante's childhood neighborhood.

We start out at a tunnel which functions in the books as a link from the neighborhood to the outside world. Next stop is the Parrocchia della Santa Famiglia — the Parish Church of the Sacred Family. Inside the grounds is a courtyard like the one where Ferrante's protagonists played as little girls.

Polcari owns a bookstore devoted to women's literature, and formed an artist collective that creates work inspired by Ferrante's Neapolitan Novels series. She points out that the author doesn't name the neighborhood in any of the books, but the clues are all around us.

She takes us to the only café in sight. The owner is a man in his 80s, who says he's never read any of Ferrante's books. That makes him the perfect person to ask about some of the clues we're pursuing. Like the first car in the neighborhood?

"It was a Fiat 1100. The owner went a little bit out of his mind," the shop owner says.

We're floored. It's as if he were talking about Marcello Solara, a villain in all four of the Neapolitan Novels. The uncanny similarities pile up: His nephew points out that the local shoemaker was named Gennaro and went by the nickname Rino. Even the owner is surprised by how much we know.

"Does the book mention me?" he asks. (He probably wouldn't want it to — the café owner in the books is a Mafioso). As we get ready to leave, he recalls that a Ferrante family lived nearby, past the public gardens, across the street in the run-down, four-story white apartment buildings. The building matches up almost perfectly with the description from the book.

We enter a courtyard and a group of women peer down from a balcony. One of my guides tells them we're looking for a writer. One of them responds: "Ah, you're looking for Ferrante, who lived here many years ago? They moved. But this is the house where she was born. There, on the first floor."

My guides are elated. "We found it! We found it!" they rejoice.

But wait a minute. If Ferrante is her pen name, what exactly have we found? Was it also her maiden name? Are they pulling our legs?

Ferrante has never once appeared publicly in 23 years of publishing. She only does interviews via e-mail. There's been much speculation about her true identity. The women on the balcony think they remember her first name — Anna.

One published theory claims Ferrante is really Anita Raja, Anita being the diminutive of Anna. Raja is a consultant for Ferrante's Italian publisher. She is also the wife of the Neapolitan writer Domenico Starnone, who himself has been "accused" of being Elena Ferrante. Her editors deny it all.

"They say the darndest things," says editor Sandra Ferri.

Ferri understands that reclusive authors tend to arouse curiosity and that could lead to sales.

"It's not about marketing," Ferri insists. "Every now and again someone will say, 'Ah, what a sly move to publish the books with a pen name, Ferrante is clever.' I tell them, 'OK. Anyone can publish with a pen name and never reveal himself. Why don't you do it? Let's see how many people have the same results.'"

And, she warns, Ferrante's secrecy gives her the space she needs to create. The author has said that if she were forced to reveal herself, she wouldn't stop writing, but she'd stop publishing.

And that would be a tragedy, say my guides. And besides, Vicinanza says, it doesn't really matter who Ferrante is anyway.

"It's fun, but I don't think that the mysterious writer made the success of the book," Vicinanza says. "I guess that the book is so strong that even without the presentation, the face of the writer, it goes and it has this success. It's the first case where the book is stronger than the writer, than the person. In this society, where writers are important, they are everywhere, on TV. ... Without presentation, without interviews or anything, the books had all this success."

After all, she adds, we wouldn't be outside on a hot day roasting in this far-flung, little neighborhood if these books were anything less than superb.

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Transcript

RACHEL MARTIN, HOST:

Elena Ferrante's fans are rabid, and there are hundreds of thousands of them around the world. So news of a new Ferrante novel is a big deal. "The Story Of The Lost Child" hit bookstores today, and this is a bigger deal than usual because it's the last of the author's beloved series about two friends growing up in Naples, Italy. It's also where the writer herself grew up, but that's just about all that's known about her. Ferrante is a penname. Her neighborhood is another matter. It is as much a character in the novels as the people, described in vivid detail. So we sent reporter Christopher Livesay to try to find it.

CHRISTOPHER LIVESAY, BYLINE: This isn't the Naples of post cards. It's poor. It's ugly. And on a hot day, two local women are taking me to Elena Ferrante's childhood neighborhood - or so they claim.

CARMEN VICINANZA: The area is there. It has to be there.

LIVESAY: Carmen Vicinanza leads the way to what looks like a prominent landmark in Ferrante's novels. She reads a passage.

VICINANZA: (Reading) To the left was a tunnel with three entrances.

LIVESAY: In the books, the tunnel is the link from the neighborhood to the outside world.

VICINANZA: (Reading) But if you climbed up to the railroad tracks on clear days, you could see, beyond some low houses and walls of tufa and patches of thick vegetation, a blue mountain with one low peak and one a little higher which was called Vesuvius and was a volcano.

This tunnel that goes to the sea, that is in the port area - it's there.

LIVESAY: So is the Parrocchia della Santa Famiglia - the Parish Church of the Sacred Family, just as it's called in the novels. Inside the grounds is a courtyard like the one where Ferrante's protagonists played as little girls.

The Neapolitan Novels are widely believed to be Elena Ferrante's thinly veiled autobiography. The first person narrator is named Elena. Like the author, she's also an accomplished writer reflecting on her youth in postwar Naples and her constant struggle to flee the poverty and violence even as the place keeps pulling her back throughout her life. At the center of it all is her complicated relationship with Lila, her lifelong best friend.

(LAUGHTER)

LIVESAY: My guides are longtime friends themselves.

VICINANZA: Maybe 15 years, 20 years, many years. We look like teenagers, but we're not (laughter).

LIVESAY: Vicinanza's friend, Lia Polcari, owns a bookstore devoted to women's literature and formed an artist collective that creates work inspired by Ferrante's Neapolitan Novels. She points out that the author doesn't name the neighborhood in any of the books. But the clues are all around us. She takes us to the only cafe in sight. The owner is a man in his 80s who says he's never read any of Ferrante's books. That makes him the perfect person to ask about some of the clues we're pursuing, like the first car in the neighborhood.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: (Speak Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: "It was a Fiat 1100," he says.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: (Speak Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: The owner went a little bit out of his mind. We're floored. It's as if he were talking about Marcello Solara, a villain in all four of the Neapolitan Novels. The uncanny similarities pile up. His nephew points out that the local shoemaker was named Gennaro and went by the nickname Rino. Even the owner is surprised by how much we know.

UNIDENTIFIED MAN: (Speak Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: "Does the book mention me," he asks. He probably wouldn't want it to. The cafe owner in the books is a Mafioso.

(CROSSTALK)

LIVESAY: As we get ready to leave, he recalls that a Ferrante family lived nearby, past the public gardens, across the street in the rundown four-story white apartment buildings. Again, Carmen Vicinanza reads a passage.

VICINANZA: (Reading) I had never left the four-story white apartment buildings, the courtyard, the parish church, the public gardens.

LIVESAY: We enter a courtyard. A group of women peer down from a balcony. One of my guys tell them we're looking for a writer.

LIA POLCARI: (Speak Neapolitan).

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #1: (Speak Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: And then something utterly confusing happens.

POLCARI: (Speak Neapolitan).

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #1: (Speak Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: One of them responds, "oh, you're looking for Ferrante who lived here many years ago. Well, they moved, but this is the house where she was born, there on the first floor."

(CROSSTALK)

LIVESAY: My guides are elated. "We found it; we found it," they rejoice.

(LAUGHTER)

LIVESAY: But wait a minute. If Ferrante's her penname, what have we found? Was it also her maiden name? Are they pulling our legs? Elena Ferrante has never once appeared publicly in 23 years of publishing. She only does interviews via email. There's been much speculation about her true identity. The women on the balcony thing they remember her first name.

UNIDENTIFIED WOMAN #2: (Speaking Neapolitan).

LIVESAY: One published theory claims Ferrante is Anita Raja, Anita being the diminutive of Anna. Raja is a consultant for Ferrante's Italian publisher. She's also the wife of the the Neapolitan writer Domenico Starnone, who himself has been accused of being Elena Ferrante. Her editors deny it all.

SANDRA FERRI: (Through interpreter) They say the darndest things. By now, they say everything.

LIVESAY: Sandra Ferri understands that reclusive authors tend to arouse curiosity. I point out how that could lead to sales. She sees where I'm going.

FERRI: (Through interpreter) It's not about marketing. Every now and again, someone will say, oh, what a sly move to publish the books with a penname. Ferrante's clever. I tell them, OK, anyone can publish with a pen name and never reveal himselves; why don't you do it? Let's see how many people have the same results.

LIVESAY: And, she warns, Ferrante's secrecy gives her the space she needs to create.

FERRI: (Through interpreter) She's even said it. If I'm forced to reveal myself, I wouldn't stop writing, but I would stop publishing.

LIVESAY: That would be a tragedy, say my guides. And besides, Carmen Vicinanza says it doesn't really matter who Elena Ferrante is anyway.

VICINANZA: It's fun, but I don't think that the mysterious writer made the success of the book. It's the first case when the book is stronger than the writer, than the person in this society where writers are important. They are everywhere in the - you know, on TV and things like that. Without interviews, without anything, the books had all this success.

LIVESAY: After all, she adds, we wouldn't be outside on a hot day, roasting in this unattractive little neighborhood if these books were anything less than superb. For NPR News, I'm Christopher Livesay in Naples. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

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