Aaargh! Wonderful World is a terrible book! After painfully hanging out with this cast of loonies and trying to find meaning in their life, we find out there is no meaning. And the characters were so dull, unlikeable, or just plain nasty that they weren’t particularly nice company. And Iris, who I thought was going to be the kickass heroine of the book, ends up riding into the sunset holding hands—of all things—with Lucas. What really upsets me is little Valentina—setting her up as some kind of prophet when she is just a painfully sick child. You know, in the hands of someone like Elmore Leonard all this double crossing and nutty characters could have been an interesting story. He wouldn’t have written such a lame ending.
Laura, I totally agree with you about the profound disappointment—bitterness?—I now feel having finished the book. If it is any consolation to myself, I learned how not to write a work of fiction. There is something irresistible and original about virtue, and there is something boring and unoriginal about dysfunctional crooks and sinners. (Now functional crooks and sinners can be awesome and utterly captivating. A high-grade sociopath? YES!)
And what was with the people who multiple times were mentioned wearing bunny costumes? I can’t even believe I am writing that. I can’t believe I held onto random details, hoping for an explanation. It is foul play in my opinion to create a series of weird unanswered gratuitous distractions—as you say, Laura—the blackout, wuh?— and to not resolve or explain any of it, ever. That is why I held out hope for an ending that brilliantly tied everything together. It was the only thing that could have helped me understand why the author is one of Spain’s hottest up-and-comers. A great ending, Javier. Was that so much to ask after sticking with these idiots and devils and loonies for hundreds of pages?
Oh well. At least I got to meet some awesome thinkers in our little book club. (Any don’t forget to come to Legacy Books September 16 so we can hang out a bit. You KNOW you’ve been meaning to get up there. This is a great reason to make it happen.)
Mr. Bocanegra’s strip joint, The Dark Side of the Moon, gets shut down by Commissioner Farina, who takes great pleasure in arresting dancers and patrons alike. It seems that the commissioner was able to break Bob Marley and now knows all about the robbery. Instead of arresting Bocanegra immediately, Farina tells him that he can work a deal if he can take possession of both the paintings and Lucas Giraut. Our friend Juan de la Cruz Saudade also has a bone to pick with Giraut. He breaks into Giraut’s apartment, urinates on things, vomits on other things, and dons one of Giraut’s fancy suits. Unfortunately, because of his whereabouts and his clothing, he is mistaken for Giraut by Koldo Cruz’s men, so he is tortured by that creepy Donald Duck before they figure out that he isn’t actually Giraut. He manages to live, only to be killed later while recovering in the hospital by his increasingly bitter partner, Anibal Manta. Iris very Gonzalvo makes the exchange with Mr. Fleck and Mr. Downey at Biosphere Park. It’s all dramatic. She gives them the location of a van that supposedly houses the paintings, but it’s all a tricky double-cross. She kicks Manta and manages to hoist him over the ledge to Zero Gravity, where he falls and then floats while she escapes. Iris and Giraut break Valentina out of the asylum before they run. And then there’s the whole confrontation between Giraut and Bocanegra, who demands to know why Giraut betrayed him when he was only trying to be a father figure. Then Koldo Cruz and his men show up, and we learn that it was Fanny who betrayed Giraut’s father—not Bocanegra, as Giraut had thought all along. And Valentina, as it turns out, is not a prophet. She’s just plain nuts.
Sorry if my recap is a bit terse, but I was really disappointed in the ending. Not only was Lucas Giraut wrong about pretty much everything, but I also was looking for symbolism where none existed. For example, I remember reading something about the monk who created the panels; he was locked away in a cell for years. And I remember thinking that maybe Eric Yanel’s locking himself in a closet for an extended period was significant. Guess what? It wasn’t. I’m sorry, but it seemed so Love Boat-y to me that he ended up with Valentina’s mom. These two unhappy couples switch partners, and everybody is just fine with it? Lame.
Also, the whole reason that Giraut became a criminal was to get justice for his dad. But he was wrong.
Why do we never learn what the blackout meant? Why even tell us about Giraut’s dumb dreams? What are we to make of the Stephen King chapters? Valentina was the greatest disappointment to me. She’s insane. So she probably should have been hospitalized, and Giraut’s decision to send her chapters of the books might have made her worse. Boo.
Kristiana, I think that is one of the $64,000 questions. Why does Fanny hate her son? Why has she hated him All of His Life? It’s not just about getting the business from him, it is also about him NOT having the business. Her kind of hate has to be so exhausting.
The “relationship” between Marcia and Yanel surprised me, and I couldn’t believe how harsh Iris was toward Lucas about the bad sex. He seems like a decent guy, but she obliterates his ego—and yet they stay together. With so many dysfunctional relationships in this book, it really takes an evil character to stand out, and Fanny Giraut does just that. At this point, I still don’t really understand why Fanny hates Lucas so much. What does he represent to her? Why so much anger?
In the last section, we thought we were coming to some sort of “aha” moment when seemingly random events and characters would start to make sense. In this section, Calvo only adds to the confusion with more random events and a few side stories. In Lucas’ incompetence trial, poor Chicote is on the stand, being questioned by Lucas’ lawyer. He doesn’t know what to fear most: the sheer bulk of Anibal Manta, sitting on the front row, blackmailing him from Lucas’ side, or the ferocious wrath of Fanny, for whom he works. We get another slimy glimpse of the “Eclipse” room as the still-unbathed Suadade attempts to crash a party there—by burning it down. Pavel tries to escape to the land of the Rastafarian, but Farina catches him just as he’s boarding. Iris relieves Lucas of his virginity and gets more involved in the ultimate plot to steal the money and the paintings. She demonstrates her bargaining skills with Travers and makes the deal. For a yet-unknown reason, Yanel surfaces again at Lucas’ apartment—and Marcia finally gets a man. Meanwhile, we visit Valentina at the psychiatric center, where she’s living in the alien world of Stephen King’s novel. And, in the final dramatic moments of the trial, we get to witness Fanny’s legal demise as that brittle façade breaks apart and she tells the jury, “I should have strangled him at birth.”
I don’t know about this part. Rather than advancing the plot, each chapter presents another sidetrack, such as Pavel’s spending a day at the racetrack watching Farina’s son or Yanel’s showing up in the story again, still whining about his poor state. Saudade continues to display his usual nasty habits; look on p. 333 for one of the most disgusting passages in the book. The only character I like is Iris. She’s becoming some kind of Lara Croft-like female superhero. She is flawless physically, she can drink anyone under the table, she kills everyone at darts, and she’s a fearless negotiator. Surely she’s going to make something come together. Please.
If the last two sections have been about sex and death, this section seems to revolve around bars and drinking—some pretty impressive drinking, I might add. Iris Gonzalvo downs glass after glass of Finlandia vodka without missing a beat, Koldo Cruz starts his day with a glass of Macallan scotch, Pavel gets threatened in a bar, and then there is Saudade. He’s probably the most disgusting character in the book. You can almost smell him when he goes home and discovers he’s been locked out, so he urinates on the pile of clothes his wife threw out.
Christine, I agree with you: it’s time for something to happen. All of these plot twists are making me dizzy. Giraut is double-crossing Bocanegra, Bocanegra is spying on Giraut, and Pavel is in trouble with everyone. As far as good deeds, they’re pretty hard to find. But there is something kind of sweet about Giraut and Iris’s relationship. I guess her helping him lose his virginity was a good deed, and his offering to let her live in his house is a good deed. And he is truly kind and thoughtful of Valentina. On the other hand, I’m thrilled that Giraut is getting even with his mother by sending that blackmail note to Cruz in her name. When she discovers that the searches of her home and offices are the result of her son Giraut, her rage arouses fear “the way certain hybrid mythological creatures aroused fear. Women with snakes for hair. Men with a single eye. Beings with human torsos and octopus tentacles.” How great is that description—and how horrible is she?
Iris continues to be the most interesting character to me. She is fearless, even when flying to Paris to call on the reclusive collector who also happens to be in the occult. (His drink is port—a lot of it.) Apparently, few people have lived to tell anything about him, but he seems to be the key that will unlock all these mysteries. He promises Penny (aka Iris) to explain the meaning of everything, because he is the only one that knows the whole story from the beginning. I can’t wait—and remind me not to go to Barcelona in February. The description of the beach is as dismal as scenes from Angela’s Ashes. What? Sunny Barcelona?
The world is wonderful because the world is horrible.
Matilde Sausade, about whom we know damn little, and son Christian, about whom we know even less, meet the philandering Sausade, husband and father respectively, for a family meeting. Sausade begs for forgiveness for his transgressions. Iris Gonzalvo, in the next scene, shows off her dart-throwing skills in a bar filled with men watching her every perfect move. The (until now) elusive and inactive Koldo Cruz comes off the shelf—Calvo devotes an entire chapter to him!—and we learn that he is another run-of-the-mill, and by now pretty predictable, thug. And yet nothing is predictable in Wonderful World because before the chapter ends, Lucas Giraut gives us a real “huh?” by putting a note in Cruz.’s personal mailbox. This act—an overt and welcome effort to advance the plotline—is observed by Saudade. Meanwhile Leon, the Russian, meets with Pavel. Leon is curious and disturbed by Lucas’s emergence on the crime scene. And more plotification: Iris is dispatched to Mr. Traver’s palace to make a deal. Maybe this is The Deal. The Deal of the book. The reason we are reading this book. But, alas, there will be no deal, not yet. In other news, homecomings start to be a trial for some of our characters: Sausade comes home to the family unit, only to find himself locked out and his belongings on the pavement. Fanny Giraut arrives at her workout studio and finds it crawling with investigators, apparently dispatched by a court order prompted by son Lucas. We learn that Lucas’s note to Cruz was blackmail—and Lucas made it look like Fanny sent it. In WW, that is a no-no. Sausade gives Lucas a lecture to that effect.
So we get more bad behavior, and even though sin is a wearisome thing—so much repetition! no originality!—Calvo manages to hold our interest through more sex and lies because, to me at least, he is hilarious. This week I was grateful for a couple of plot twists, because we are more than halfway through the book, and something has to happen, for goodness’ sake. Still, I am looking for some principles that apply to these characters, some kind of code that they are willing to break into pieces or ignore or adhere to—just for the sake of cosmic order. I came up empty-handed. Anyone? Unable to find a code, I decided instead to troll for moments where characters behaved decently. And my winner so far is when Sausade and his wife Matilde, who were arguing about whether they should stay married after all of Sausade’s betrayals, asked their son to step out of earshot so they could speak freely and frankly. This book is so twisted that the simple act of semi-protecting the innocence of a minor leapt from the pages, for me at least. Are there other moments like this?
Also, I want to say bravo on comments on the last installment. Really great insights, research (thank you, Chuckwheat), and smart thoughts. Carry on!
First of all, when Saudade accused his wife of being on her monthly visitor, I wanted to throw the book. Why is that the always the accusation by men when a woman is not just angry, but justifiably so? Not to sound like I’m throwing my sweet husband under the bus, but really. I have known way too many girls/women who stayed with a cheating husband/boyfriend because he made her feel like she was the crazy one and paranoid by using the words PMS, pshycho, and—let’s not forget—irrational. Despite the fact that all signs point to CHEATER, somehow those words act like Alka-Seltzer and totally put out the fire. Ugh. And, Laura, re: sweet Valentina. I think you’re on to something. Maybe the “they” she’s referencing here: “They’re waiting for everything to be under they’re control” is the mafia or maybe the FBI. Can’t wait to find out.
Brain dead here, but who was it who had the tattoo of the crown of thorns? Can’t remember. And if you have not visited Calvo’s Crown of Thorns display, go here. Too bad Calvo won’t answer my e-mails. We have questions.
I didn’t notice the references to Revelations—nice point, Christine. And, like Laura, I’m starting to get the feeling that the joke may be on us. We love Valentina, but everything points to her being insane, until you consider that she may be the only one who gets it. This group of chapters changed the way I look at Lucas. I know he was called a “namby pamby” early on, but I never considered that he may be a 33-year-old virgin (or a technical virgin in certain areas, whatever that means). Most of the other male characters are so overtly sexual (always soliciting prostitutes or seducing women like Hannah), that Lucas’ lack of dirty sexual activity seemed to fit his role as protagonist. Nor had I considered that Lucas’ mother might be claiming he is mentally unfit because he actually is—but that would be quite a twist. (On a side note, if this entire book turns out to be a product of Lucas’ whacked-out imagination, or of Valentina’s psychotic delusions, then I may never read another Calvo book again. I hate when authors do that.) Until these chapters, I felt like the connection to Stephen King’s fictional book had been a relatively minor element, but when you consider that the book itself is named after the fictional book-within-the-book, it seems we’ll see more connections as we continue reading. What could have caused the blackout? And while I’m asking questions: Why don’t I hate Saudade? He’s disgusting. He’s a caricature of a bad guy who can’t keep his pants zipped. I should hate him, but I don’t.
Right now I’m wondering if this whole book isn’t a manual about bad parenting. Every parent is horrible—Fanny, Maria, and Saudade. I mean, has anyone ever even thought of all the things Fanny called her son in chapter 34? They’re really quite funny in a very sick way: Drooling Runt, More Useless than Sandals in the Arctic, Pile of Genetic Remains. Then there is that witch Marcia, who puts on makeup and then leaves the house while her daughter is throwing up in the toilet right next to her. I mean, what mother would do that? I kind of want to “break her face” in the gangster lingo they all use. And Saudade—what a creep. He locks his 8-year-old son out of his room on Christmas Eve so he can smoke weed and watch pornography. The poor child is stuffed in footy pajamas that are too small, and he just wants to know when his momma is getting out of jail.
As a mother, all of these scenes sort of made me want to cry for the sad loneliness in these children’s lives. Like you, Laura, I feel so sad for Valentina, who is clearly living in a mentally ill world and can’t get any help or understanding from anyone except her friend Lucas. But I have to admit I have never read Stephen King, so I don’t have any notions or see any predictions that she might really be the sane one in an insane Stephen King novel. But I’m a huge fan of Pink Floyd and completely intrigued by all the references to the band and the band members. I promise to watch my video of Pink Floyd’s Lightshow in London for the 22nd time and find out what all this means.
Hey, Laura. What excellent questions and insights you provide. Are you sure you have not been reading ahead? Or is it that I am still on chapter 32? Because I don’t yet have the mental ammo to connect Valentina’s madness to Lucas’s dream of a terrible flood. However I will throw this out there while I finish the rest of this week’s chapters. Can anyone tie neatly the section titles with what is going on so far in the book? I mean the behavior of our main characters, all 700 of them, certainly deserves a serious reckoning. But the end of the world? Part I: “And, Behold, there was a Great Earthquake.” Part II: “And the Sun turned Black as Sackcloth” Part III: “And They all hid in the Caves and among the Mountain Crags.” This is from Revelations re: the breaking of the six seal, which depicts the ” typical apocalyptic signs in the sky and the sheer terror of all people at the imminent divine judgment” (Rev 6:12-17). I wonder….
This week, Anibal Manta and Eric Yanel pull off the big heist at Hannah Linus’ gallery—not without problems, of course. Yanel can’t stop crying. Also, there’s a mysterious blackout that affects things that a “normal” blackout wouldn’t, such as battery-powered flashlights. Later Yanel unsuccessfully attempts suicide; the guy can’t even do that right. Speaking of attempting suicide, Iris Gonzalvo watches an entire DVD of Friends and rues the fact that she’s not famous. She decides to enlist the help of Lucas Giraut, thinking that he can help her with her showbiz endeavors. The two go to dinner at what sounds like the world’s most awful restaurant, where servers dress in surgical garb and there are images of “mutagenic explosions in the hallway leading to the bathrooms, where the nutritional act/mutated births find its parallel.” Since being freed by Donald Duck and the gang, Pavel goes to Manta for help and receives a beating instead. Juan de la Cruz Saudade takes a break from watching porn to have a not-so-heart-to-heart chat with his son about the whereabouts of his mother, who apparently has been arrested after beating the heck out of Hannah Linus. Lucas Giraut has a disturbing dream involving Down With The Sun Society, a bar, and a terrible flood. We get to read another chapter of Stephen King’s novel, in which main character Chuck Kimball has made it to Boston where he continues to try to elude the aliens who have taken over the world. Giraut has taken on legal counsel—courtesy of Mr. Bocanegra—in his fight against his mother and Mr. Fonseca, which means things are likely going to get even uglier. Despite getting her bum kicked by his wife, Hannah Linus can’t resist Saudade’s advances and sleeps with him again. (Sometimes the smartest women have the worst taste in men, right?) In that vein, Saudade lies about his cheating ways and blames his wife’s paranoia on her impending monthly visitor. We also learn—via his son—that Saudade cheated on his wife on their wedding day. With her sister. Poor, sweet Valentina Parini is hospitalized and talking nonsense about “them.” “They fly over the city, but they’re invisible,” she says. “They’re waiting for everything to be under they’re control.” She’s clearly insane. Or is she …
Never in a million years did I think I would be able to keep all of these characters straight, let alone care about them. But I really do—and none more than Valentina Parini. I guess because I was a total nerd-alert when I was her age (maybe I still am?), I have a special place in my heart for her. So is she—like many characters in Stephen King novels, actually—the only one who can see what’s coming but everyone dismisses as crazy? Or is she really nuts? Until this block of chapters, I sort of forgot about the supernatural element of the novel, because there was a lot of sex and crime in the previous weeks. So I wonder if Valentina’s madness is at all tied to Lucas Giraut’s odd dream about the bar filling with water?
Oh. And question: is there any place in the world—let alone another hospital—where one visits a child in the girl’s restroom? Awkward on a number of levels, but I’m thinking especially for the poor child with tummy issues. And God forbid you had any stage-fright issues while some man sits on a folding chair, talking to a child about “captors.”
So, what’s the deal? Is the Stephen King book some form of prophecy that only Valentina recognizes as true? Her revelations pretty much mirror the few chapters of the King novel we’ve been allowed to read.
Also, is it significant that Giraut brought Valentina a Pennywise the Clown lamp? I don’t know if you’ve ever read It, but Pennywise was scary. Like really scary. I read that book as an adult, and Pennywise scared the crap out of me. And while I’m not sure I would want any clown as a nightlight, I know I wouldn’t want that clown. But I’m wondering if this is symbolic. In It, a group of kids puts an end to Pennywise. Is Valentina going to be the hero of this book?
So I thought I was unfazed by the string of fragments in this book. As I was reading previous chapters, I just imagined commas or em dashes instead of periods, and it seemed to go okay. However, the punctuation problem is really wearing me out, which is making it difficult for me to enjoy this book. I had to read the last set of chapters twice because I kept zoning out. And I love to read! Such a bummer. However, I will persevere. Or at least I will try.
Like Laura, I’m very attached to sweet Valentina–and, just as I pray for Lucas to tell off his mother, I would like someone to tell Valentina’s mother to get her act together. Why are some women so desperate for the attention of men? I don’t get it. She should spend less time worrying about that and more time on her daughter. Oh, and Kristiana, Vincent Cassel would be so good as Saudade. He’s sleazy but sexy.
I would just like to share that Pink Floyd has 1.6 million something fans on Facebook.
Julie, I’m thinking more along the lines of Vincent Cassel for Saudade. He’s arrogant and sexy, seems like the type of guy who would prance around a hotel room naked before robbing the woman he just slept with.
In this segment of the book, I finally started to feel the depth of Calvo’s “bad” characters. Like Laura, I felt sorry for Manta. He just couldn’t catch a break. Books like this make me feel relieved that we don’t live in a culture where breaking someone’s nose is routine punishment. It appears that such violence is necessary to keep the rules of criminal life in play.
I couldn’t help but think of you D Home ladies during the description of Giraut’s magic desk. I loved the intricate nature of the furniture he obsesses over—such a wonderful representation of Giraut’s inner workings. And poor Valentina. She just wants to read escapist novels and be left alone. I thought her fantasies of destroying Italy were pretty hilarious. Her mother completely misunderstands her, almost as much as Fanny fails to get Lucas. There is no shortage of terrible mothers in this book!
Peggy, I agree with you. The drama between Fonseca and Lucas is priceless. I just hate that character so much. As with actors in a movie, anytime an author or actor can actually make you hate a character, you know they’ve done a good job. Ugh, and Fanny. She’s the worst kind of mother. However, I totally disagree with you about Ashton Kutcher playing Saudade. He’s way too pretty boy. HAS to be someone sort of attractive, but also sleezy. I’m thinking more along the lines of Colin Farrell. He’s played some off-color characters in the past that I bought—even though he is pretty darn cute.
Good. We’re catching up with old friends and making connections between all these characters. A lot of people are getting beat up. Our friend Pavel, who raped his sister, gets a beating. Saudade’s wife goes after Hannah—you know she deserved it—and poor Manta gets it for losing Panakian.
Fonseca begs Lucas to sign the papers—alternately threatening and cajoling him—while Lucas makes him sit in the dark on a hard chair. In the perfect get-even scene, Lucas promises to sign the papers if Fonseca will tell him who set up his dad. When Lucas has what he wants, he kicks out Fonseca, who’s about to have a heart attack because he has to face the ferocious Fanny without signed papers.
Meanwhile, Hannah Linus has a grand opening at her gallery, and all the characters are here. Lucas escorts Marcia, who complains about the food and what everyone is wearing. The “largest photographer in the world” turns out to be Manta, and our handsome Eric Yanel is a waiter. The guy with his hand on super-cool Hannah’s butt is a cleaned-up Saudade. (I think Ashton Kutchner could play him; he can be goofy stupid and smoldering at the same time.) This could be a perfect scene from a James Bond movie.
Iris has decided to break out of the porn scene and get to know some writers and producers instead of hanging with the usual beautiful people. Too bad the writers and journalists have double chins, bad hair, and cheap clothes. (Are we really that bad?) And I think Yanel just got ditched.
I got carried away this week. I’ve read very far ahead, so I hope that I don’t inadvertently throw in some spoilers. But, please, promise me that we can talk about the Pennywise lamp next week.
If last week was all about everyone getting lucky (in a matter of speaking), this week is about the opposite of luck. The cops do everything to make Pavel look like a rat—giving him everything but hugs and kisses before releasing him into the world. And it’s not long before he’s picked up by a business associate. The beating he gets isn’t the worst part of his day; that would be Donald Duck. I want to learn more about this guy, don’t you? The speaking device? His whole predilection for drills and using them for more sinister projects than mere home improvement? Best part: he’s married and has a baby on the way. (Single girl aside: what am I doing wrong here?!)
Anibal Manta has a terrible time this week. He’s been charged with guarding Panakian while the forger works on the pieces for the upcoming heist. Poor Manta. He’s such a big guy, so bitter about childhood slights. Anyway, didn’t you know as soon as he got to the grocery store that something terrible would go down? The man loves food. There’s no way he could focus on guarding Panakian while standing in line at the deli. I did love when he yelled at the indecisive old woman. I have nothing against the elderly—just against those who don’t consider what they want while standing in line.
Anyway, I felt a little sad for poor Manta when he lost Panakian. I thought he would be killed, but not the case. He merely received a beating.
And nearly everyone gets beaten up, right? Hannah Linus gets her bum kicked by a jealous Mrs. Saudade. Honestly, who is this Juan de la Cruz Saudade? This man flexes in front of the mirror for hours, suggests bringing in prostitutes, and steals (and worse) for a living—and women go nuts over him. Sounds about right.
Poor Valentina’s fortunes take a turn for the worse. I hoped that Lucas might hit it off with her mother when they went on their date, but that didn’t happen. Even worse, Valentina’s teacher discovers a butter knife and a story wherein Valentina kills various members of her basketball team. Bad news.
The only other thing I have to comment on is the “Stephen King” chapter. I thought it was fun. But, Calvo, you are no King, sir.
Hannah Linus has an “encounter” with the supersize Saudade. We begin the not-real Wonderful World by Stephen King and meet main character Chuck Kimball and his much-feared race of psychic beings. Pavel has a short stay in jail, then is released under mysterious terms. The Fanny-wants-Lucas-to-sign-over-the-business plotline is referenced, if not advanced, in a scene between Lucas and Fonseca, who reveals that Bocanegra and Koldo Cruz are the men in an old photograph with Lucas’s father (lots of web weaving going on here). Pavel endures a non-interrogation involving a drill and a sadist named Donald Duck. Lucas and Valentina’s mother, Marcia, attend Hannah Linus’s gallery opening and pay homage to the coveted St. Kieran panels. Fanny sends a new lawyer to make yet another play for Lucas’s stock in the business. Poor Valentina! Busted for her inane manuscript and a bread knife in her backpack. Hannah “encounters” Sausade again, and he makes a copy of her electronic key. Pavel babysits Panakian as he paints a copy of one of the St. Kiernan panels; they go for an outing, and Panakian slips away.
We have been talking about a cast of characters to play the main roles in the movie, but I think the scene at Hannah Linus’s gallery shows how this is already a better book than a movie, a story best suited to print. Calvo’s description of Lucas spotting Anibal Manta across the room as the “largest photographer he has ever seen” (p. 140) is silly but fabulous. It is where the book and its descriptions give the invisible narrator (Calvo) a chance to show off his wit and point of view in a way no camera or script could.
Discuss in the comments section below:
It isn’t exactly a grammatical error that is driving me crazy—it is the inconsistent use of names. Some people are called by first and last name (Iris Gonzalvo is never just Iris, but Valentina Parini is often called Valentina), then others (usually Saudade and Manta) are mainly last name. I guess it’s just the editor in me, but I really hate his lack of consistency. It’s like he rewrites the rules from one chapter to the next, and I find it extremely distracting.
On the plus side, I like all the Pink Floyd references Calvo peppers throughout the book. In the fourth chapter, when Lucas Giraut meets Bocanegra, Bocanegra asks Giraut if he’s familiar with the band. Bocanegra’s club is called The Dark Side of the Moon, one of Pink Floyd’s most famous albums. When Pavel breaks into the house, a framed poster that says “Pink Floyd: The Final Cut” is hanging on the wall in the bathroom (I don’t know what kind of adults hang a rock poster in their bathroom, but that seems to be the least of our worries at this point). And lastly, when Giraut is looking through Apartment 13 in the 13th chapter, we see that one of his father’s cassette tapes is none other than Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon.” Love those details.
Anyone want to comment on the female characters in the book? They all seem to be strong women, in their own peculiar ways. Iris seemed pitiable at first, until she did the burn job on the porn director’s face. She has ambitions but no talent. Or maybe she does have talent and we just don’t know it from what Calvo has told us.
So far—and, granted, this is early in the book—Fanny is the least developed female character. She is mean, vain, and as taut as modern surgical medicine can make her. But she is not weak. Valentina is hated by all of her classmates and teachers but her reaction is mainly to be annoyed. Deeply annoyed. But doesn’t resort to whining. And Hannah is one cool broad. I don’t see her collapsing in self-pity or weakness. Let’s see where Calvo takes these women. I like them.
Laura, I totally have the same wish for Valentina. She needs a good dad and her mother needs a husband. At least she would stop with the crepes. Valentina is probably my favorite character in the book so far. She’s an outsider with a brain and I love her obsession with Stephen King. I wonder if Stephen King paid for all of this free advertising.
That’s so funny that you mention ice cream, Christine! Seriously. Who doesn’t love eating gelato in Italy—although I think we’ll all think twice from now on. I mean, WOW. I, too, like how Lucas is getting some moxie. Aren’t you all just waiting for the moment he tells off his mother? I know I am. I can’t believe that Hannah is turned on by Saudade; speaking of Hannah, though, I can sort of relate to how she feels about men after she sleeps with them. I guess that means I need to make an appointment with my therapist.