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This is the first of Isabel Allende that I've read, and I'm more than willing to give her a second chance, but I was very unmoved by this novel. Characters made choices without any real explanation or lead up; events happened just because they happened. Although the writing was lush and the events themselves often interesting, the fact that the book was so expository was irritating, and I didn't wind up caring much for any of the characters as a result.
Additionally, the whole book is about this FANTASTIC, mesmerizing storyteller, a modern-day Scheherazade -- and yet with the exception of one page of her actual storytelling near the novel's end, I have no idea why I should believe that she's so incredible other than that I'm told (by the character herself) that she is so, repeatedly. It's basically the equivalent of Tenacious D's "Tribute" (a song *about* the best song in the world) - a ridiculous dodge. 1001 Arabian Nights works because it comprises the fabulous tales Scheherazade tells, not because it tells the tale of Scheherazade telling the tales.
Additionally, the whole book is about this FANTASTIC, mesmerizing storyteller, a modern-day Scheherazade -- and yet with the exception of one page of her actual storytelling near the novel's end, I have no idea why I should believe that she's so incredible other than that I'm told (by the character herself) that she is so, repeatedly. It's basically the equivalent of Tenacious D's "Tribute" (a song *about* the best song in the world) - a ridiculous dodge. 1001 Arabian Nights works because it comprises the fabulous tales Scheherazade tells, not because it tells the tale of Scheherazade telling the tales.