My brilliant friend is a book that recalls the childhood through lens of romanticism. It talks about a kind of love for studying subjects in schools that is rare in contemporary society. The protagonist and the protagonist’s friend want so bad of a formal education they run for it under the sun, its bleaching ray of warmth. Sometimes it rain and sometimes it is sunny. I love the book’s idea of Italy as an untainted land by superb productions of capitalist society and American politics. It channels the emotions of two children at the centre of the story through vignettes. It’s done it so well people gushed about the book like they had just read it the first time. I wonder about this type of intellectually competitive friendship ever since I had read it. Is this romantic? Etc.