Barcelona, 1945—just after the war, a great world city lies in shadow, nursing its wounds, and a boy named Daniel awakes on his eleventh birthday to find that he can no longer remember his mother’s face. To console his only child, Daniel’s widowed father, an antiquarian book dealer, initiates him into the secret of the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, a library tended by Barcelona’s guild of rare-book dealers as a repository for books forgotten by the world, waiting for someone who will care about them again. Daniel’s father coaxes him to choose a volume from the spiraling labyrinth of shelves, one that, it is said, will have a special meaning for him. And Daniel so loves the novel he selects, The Shadow of the Wind by one Julian Carax, that he sets out to find the rest of Carax’s work. To his shock, he discovers that someone has been systematically …
Barcelona, 1945—just after the war, a great world city lies in shadow, nursing its wounds, and a boy named Daniel awakes on his eleventh birthday to find that he can no longer remember his mother’s face. To console his only child, Daniel’s widowed father, an antiquarian book dealer, initiates him into the secret of the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, a library tended by Barcelona’s guild of rare-book dealers as a repository for books forgotten by the world, waiting for someone who will care about them again. Daniel’s father coaxes him to choose a volume from the spiraling labyrinth of shelves, one that, it is said, will have a special meaning for him. And Daniel so loves the novel he selects, The Shadow of the Wind by one Julian Carax, that he sets out to find the rest of Carax’s work. To his shock, he discovers that someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book this author has written. In fact, he may have the last one in existence. Before Daniel knows it his seemingly innocent quest has opened a door into one of Barcelona’s darkest secrets, an epic story of murder, magic, madness and doomed love. And before long he realizes that if he doesn’t find out the truth about Julian Carax, he and those closest to him will suffer horribly.
As with all astounding novels, The Shadow of the Wind sends the mind groping for comparisons —The Crimson Petal and the White? The novels of Arturo Pérez-Reverte? Of Victor Hugo? Love in the Time of Cholera?—but in the end, as with all astounding novels, no comparison can suffice. As one leading Spanish reviewer wrote, “The originality of Ruiz Zafón’s voice is bombproof and displays a diabolical talent. The Shadow of the Wind announces a phenomenon in Spanish literature.” An uncannily absorbing historical mystery, a heart-piercing romance, and a moving homage to the mystical power of books, The Shadow of the Wind is a triumph of the storyteller’s art.
(front flap)
A rare book sets a teenage boy on a path of mystery, love & revenge. This was nearly great, with an intriguing setup, smooth prose, vibrant characters and an evocative sense of time & place (mid-century Barcelona). But it ran out of steam with repetitive storytelling and too much exposition. And nearly all the men were incorrigible womanisers.
It's pretty good, but it does this thing that's been starting to grate on me where characters opine and hold forth endlessly about how mysterious and strange and mystical women are, and how you can never know the mind or heart of a WOMAN.
They're just people, dude.
It's pretty good, but it does this thing that's been starting to grate on me where characters opine and hold forth endlessly about how mysterious and strange and mystical women are, and how you can never know the mind or heart of a WOMAN.
It's been a long time since I've read this but I know that I loved it and was actually laughing at some parts. I'm going to have to read it again soon and continue the story this time! It's been sitting on my shelf patiently waiting, like an old friend.
It's been a long time since I've read this but I know that I loved it and was actually laughing at some parts. I'm going to have to read it again soon and continue the story this time! It's been sitting on my shelf patiently waiting, like an old friend.