It is not often I fail to enjoy a book. In fact in my life only 3 have this dubious accolade - Watership Down, See Spot Run, and this. The bits with the agoraphobic dictator are funny, and some of the stories of the double are readable, but there is far too much pointless tosh about sitting in hammocks with various people who serve no narrative purpose, and lots of self-indulgent tripe about the Interior (where? why? etc).
Half way through I got bored to tears and had no idea who was who, who was doing what, where, when and why. Sonia? Who's she, and why is she here? The Jesuit? Help?
If you like this sort of thing, try Jose Saramago, avoid this unless you have limitless patience.