A novel that is centered around the life of a genuine patriotic poet from the Dominican Republic and her family has been brought to life.

This novel features an extraordinary structure. The chapters alternate between the first-person voice of the poet, who narrates her story in a chronological manner, and that of her daughter, who tells her story in reverse.

Initially, the novel held a great deal of promise. However, as it progressed, it unfortunately did not fully live up to that promise. It became overly repetitive, which could potentially bore the readers. Additionally, it might have been too politically correct, perhaps sacrificing some of its authenticity and depth in the process.

Despite these drawbacks, the novel still offers an interesting perspective on the lives of the poet and her family, as well as the historical and cultural context in which they lived.

"Who can explain it? That dark love and shame that binds us to the arbitrary place where we happened to be born." This profound quote sets the tone for this book. The book is truly lovely and interesting, yet it can be a bit of a slog at times. I do understand the structuring, with one life presented chronologically and the other in reverse chronology. This unique approach aims to reconnect a mother and daughter who lived lives almost entirely apart from each other. However, I found it a bit challenging to follow the reverse portions at times. There is a prologue and an epilogue that frame the story beautifully. The mother's and daughter's stories complement each other in dozens of nuanced ways. Despite the initial difficulties, ultimately, I found it a worthwhile and satisfying read. It makes one reflect on the complex relationships and the impact of our birthplaces on our lives.

"Who can explain it? That dark love and shame that binds us to the arbitrary place where we happened to be born."

This is not a review, but rather a wish item.

We hope that, anywhere in the world, there were a few individuals of such remarkable caliber, possessing the combination of intelligence, compassion, courage, and willpower.

It's not enough to have just one in many thousands; we truly need more.

As for the work itself, well, another Julia Alvarez work can express it all.

Perhaps in a world where such individuals are more abundant, we could see greater positive change and progress.

They could bring new perspectives, show kindness and understanding, and have the courage to take on challenges and make a difference.

Julia Alvarez's works often explore themes of identity, culture, and the human spirit, and maybe her words can inspire us to strive for a better world with more people of this caliber.

We can only hope and work towards making this wish a reality.

[3.5] In the Name of Salome truly felt as if it were much more extensive than its 350 pages.

The structure, which commences from the present and then delves back in time over a span of approximately a hundred years, proved to be rather cumbersome.

Lacking any forward momentum, my reading pace decelerated to a snail's crawl.

Nevertheless, I found myself irresistibly compelled to persist in reading.

I was utterly fascinated by both Camila and her poet mother.

And although my overall reading experience did not always merit a full 4 stars, this novel undeniably struck a chord within me.

It had a certain charm and depth that made it impossible for me to simply put it aside.

Despite the challenges presented by its structure, the story managed to draw me in and hold my attention until the very end.

Perhaps it was the complex relationships and the richly developed characters that made this novel so captivating.

Or maybe it was the exploration of themes such as love, loss, and identity that resonated with my own experiences.

Whatever the reason, In the Name of Salome is a novel that I will not soon forget.

The story was indeed a good one.

However, the way Camila's narrative went back and forth was not in a linear fashion.

This made it quite challenging to clearly understand at which specific point in her life the story was resuming.

Nonetheless, despite this drawback, the story was very informative.

It provided a wealth of details and insights that could potentially offer a deeper understanding of certain aspects or events.

Perhaps with a bit more clarification and a more straightforward chronological structure, the story could have been even more engaging and easier to follow.

Overall, it had its merits, but the non-linear nature of Camila's account did pose some difficulties for the reader.

The story itself was perfectly decent and all.

The changing of the two narratives was, in fact, quite interesting. It added an element of mystery and kept the reader engaged.

However, the language was truly tedious. It took me close to a month to finish this book because the language was just too thick and boring. It seemed as if the author was trying too hard to be fancy and ended up losing the essence of the story.

Perhaps it had something to do with the smattering of random Spanish words throughout the book. Since I don't speak Spanish, it didn't work so well in my mind. It felt like an unnecessary addition that only served to confuse me.

Either way, this was a worthy story if not a good book. The plot had its merits and the characters were well-developed. It just needed a better language to bring it to life.

I would recommend this book to those who are patient enough to wade through the thick language and appreciate a good story beneath it all.

I am beginning to be a fan of Julia Alvarez.

This is the first book I have read of hers that is set in the Dominican Republic.

The story centers around the renowned poet Salomé Ureña and her daughter Camila Salomé.

It is written from two perspectives, with each chapter alternating between the two viewpoints.

At the beginning, it was a bit perplexing, but once you understand who is who in the story, it becomes a real page-turner.

I was fascinated by the tale of this famous poet, who inspired revolutionaries, yet had a difficult marriage and a daughter who constantly strived to find herself and her purpose throughout her life.

The narrative style is interesting, and at times, it might leave you longing for more details.

Overall, it is a wonderful read that offers a captivating look into the lives of these two remarkable women.

It makes you appreciate the power of literature and the impact that a single person can have on the world.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys historical fiction or stories about strong, complex female characters.

It is a must-read for fans of Julia Alvarez and those who are interested in learning more about the history and culture of the Dominican Republic.

In the Name of Salome is an exquisitely beautiful book penned by Julia Alvarez, one of my most beloved Latin American writers. Her poetry and prose both hold a special place in my heart, and this historical fiction novel, set against the backdrop of the Caribbean revolution and years of unrest, did not fail to captivate. In fact, it might just be my favorite among all of Julia Alvarez's works.

The story revolves around two women, a mother who is also a poet and her daughter, a professor at Vassar. It is the enchanting tale of the life of Salome Urena, a national icon and poet during the political turmoil in the Dominican Republic in the late nineteenth-century. She dedicated herself to opening schools for young Dominican girls. Sadly, she passed away at a young age from tuberculosis when her daughter Camila was only three. The narrative unfolds in alternating chapters, told by both Salome Urena and Salome Camila Henriquez Urena.

Losing her mother so early, Camila was taught by her aunt to make the sign of the cross, saying, "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of my mother, Salome." This blessing becomes a significant part of her life. In June 1960, as Camila retires from Vassar and leaves Poughkeepsie, New York, she contemplates her life in America and her future in Cuba, which she has chosen as her home and where she will face her own political struggles.

The heart of the story lies in the struggles of these two women, despite being a generation apart. Camila discovers her mother through her father's library, a favorite place since childhood. It is through the letters between her mother and father, found boxed away, that Camila begins to truly understand her mother and finally embrace her identity as Salome Camila.

There is a large and lively family, both immediate and extended. So much so that in the prologue, there is a chart of all the members of Profesora Camila Henriquez Urena's family. This book is a masterpiece, told in the powerful yet loving voice that Julia Alvarez, a Latina poet and university professor, does so masterfully. It is a treasure that will surely find its way back onto my bookshelf for future enjoyment.

I truly had a great fondness for this book. It was a part of a book club, and perhaps if it hadn't been, I'm not sure if I would have chosen to pick it up on my own.

Nevertheless, it presented an outstanding story. I found myself significantly more intrigued by the mother's chapters. The reason being that they delved deeper into historical aspects, which added a layer of richness and depth to the narrative.

Overall, it was a very well-written book that also contained some fascinating ideas. It managed to engage my attention from start to finish and left me with a sense of satisfaction. I would highly recommend this book to others who enjoy a good read with a touch of history and interesting concepts.

Some truly lovely passages grace the pages of this novel, and there is a palpable sense of political time and place.

However, the novel's structure, which alternates between the life of the poet Salome and that of her daughter, Camila, unfortunately did not strike a chord with me.

I found myself having a distinct preference for the chapters told from Salome's point of view.

In fact, when I reached the Camila chapters, I often found myself putting the book down for days on end.

If the entire novel had been centered around Salome and her life, I would have been far more engaged and invested.

For those sections of the book that delved into Salome's world were vivid, captivating, and full of interest.

It seems that the author had a wonderful story to tell about Salome, but perhaps the inclusion of Camila's narrative detracted from the overall impact.

Nonetheless, the lovely passages and the sense of political context still make this novel worth considering, despite its structural flaws.

I was extremely disappointed with this book.

After having a deep love for "In the Time of the Butterflies" and "How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents", my expectations for this one were quite high.

However, I think the issue with this particular book is that, in contrast to her other works, the female characters failed to be either memorable or strong.

Even though they were enduring difficult circumstances and grappling with identity crises, I simply couldn't generate any empathy for them.

To me, they seemed rather dull and uninteresting.

Perhaps, though, someone else might have a different perspective and actually like this book.

Everyone has their own unique tastes and preferences when it comes to literature, and what doesn't appeal to me might be a gem for someone else.

It's always possible that I'm missing something that others can see and appreciate.

Nonetheless, based on my personal reading experience, this book didn't meet my standards.

This was more arduous than it ought to have been. For some inexplicable reason, the author, who is narrating the tales of Salomé Ureña - a political poet and feminist in 19th-century Dominican Republic - and her daughter Camilla, opts to present the former's life in a forward direction and the latter's in a reverse order.

Consequently, as we traverse through time, decade by decade, in Camilla's life, we already have a premonition of how events will unfold. We are cognizant that this new relationship will flounder, that an important individual will soon pass away or disappear, and how she will make all of her decisions. I discovered the forward progression of Salomé's life to be far more gratifying - not the actual life itself, mind you, but the act of reading about it.

Perhaps I am overly simplistic, but I desire to cling to hope until it is no longer possible. Anticipating a sadness, a tragedy, a betrayal 100 pages before its manifestation seemed to drain the significance of the actual event - "oh yeah, that." Or perhaps, as my own time marches forward inexorably, I am simply incapable of thinking in reverse. As Salomé penned, "Their faces fresh with what they do not know..." Do you recall that? Neither do I.

Nevertheless, the writing of Julia Alvarez salvages this novel to a great extent. She is truly remarkable. There were numerous insights and charming details throughout.

Her family is in exile in pre-revolution Cuba, and her aunts wish for her to remain indoors: "There are raids and roundups and all kinds of horrible things going on out there. Can't she stay? Camilla thinks of them as family sirens, luring her back to the greater danger, a closed-down life at home."

A former lover, Marion, who is white, persistently evades the topic of race,宣称, "I don't care what you are." Camilla's response reflects what many of us are currently learning about racism, nearly a century later, regarding those who righteously proclaim color-blindness. Why would anyone desire not to be seen? "She wants to be apprehended fully, rather than seen only through the narrow lens of a few adjectives the other person finds acceptable."

All in all, it is a good, but not outstanding, book.