I am at a loss to understand how this book could be published in this form, or why anyone could find it interesting. It is a collection of meandering personal reminiscences, largely without structure or insight. It reminds me of a vanity-published autobiography; is Ginzburg so exalted an author than no editor was allowed near this? How can the collection of reviewers quoted on the jacket have found so many good things to say about it?
The author has limited herself to what she can remember, apparently, and so does not fill in anything that she knows happened but does not figure in her memories - the holocaust, for example, or the Allied landings in Italy, or the war really.
The family are Jewish, but it clearly didn't mean very much to them - as seems to have been the case with most other Italian-Jewish memoirs of this period.
I read this quickly, but I'm still sorry for the time I wasted on it.