- Hardcover: 384 pages
- Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers (1 May 1993)
- ISBN-10: 006017028X
- ISBN-13: 978-0060170288
- Product Dimensions: 23.6 x 15.5 x 3.6 cm
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Born in Peru and raised in Chile, Isabel Allende is the author of nine novels, including Inès of My Soul,Daughter of Fortune, and Portrait in Sepia. She has also written a collection of stories, four memoirs, and a trilogy of children's novels. Her books have been translated into more than twenty-seven languages and have become bestsellers across four continents. In 2004 she was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Isabel Allende lives in California.
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The main character is the child of a minister whose "Infinite Plan" sounds more like New Age speculation than revival preaching. He is raised in the Barrio where almost every character confirms to the whole Latin Men are sexy but sexist stereotype and when he grows up to be a lawyer, he's a complete creep.
I can see that Allende's purpose is to take a likeable character, transform him into a jerk (as he warns you on about page 100 or so) and then slowly bring him back to humanity (there is one line about how he thought he was moving in circles but he was actually moving in spirals - I still remember that one.) but by the time he gets to his resolution, you still don't like him that much. He's been such a self-absorbed yuppie that you want to smack him upside the head a few more times.
The rest of the characters are either awful or poorly drawn charactitures. There is the daughter who becomes a drug addict (and the main character realizes that its not his fault that his kid is such a screwup but then again, it kinda is his fault) and there's his best friend from the Barrio who has some strength and you really wish that she was in another book and not hanging out with these losers. There's the father who's mysterious and the sister that's constantly angry. There's also te best friend that is loud and abrasive.
Now, this is still an Isabelle Allende book and as an Isabelle Allende book it has some great emotional highs and lows and some memorable scenes. It just isn't as sustained as her masterworks like House of Spirits or Eva Luna.
A common complaint among women readers is that men who try to write women characters usually get them wrong. They are either window dressing or so obviously stereotypical as to be surreal. This book seems to be Allende's attempt to write a book from the male perspective. It's a failure, but it's an interesting failure. A better portrayal of the emotional lives of men would either be Fight CLub or High Fidelity (either the movies or the books are great)