Barcelona in the twenties, both a port city with its underworld and aristocratic with its upscale neighborhoods. Its small trades, its trafficking, a Mediterranean city.
David, a freelancer, journalist, writer, a bit of a lost soul, is going to receive from a mysterious sponsor, the ‘boss’, the commission for an even more mysterious book where alchemy, magic, and spiritualism intertwine. A bookseller, a true one, a lover of books, will help him; glory seems to approach, but David finds himself trapped by his manuscript. He writes it and lives it. Strange events occur around him, his friends die or disappear. The sponsor arranges meetings with him, each time in unusual places.
David is chained to his manuscript. He writes, and each line, each chapter is another shackle that binds him. If he wants to free himself, he cannot; the book he must write is always there, and he cannot liberate himself from it. Death lurks around him, the police suspect him. Eventually, he leaves Barcelona, the story seems finished, but not quite; a photo has pursued him, and he finds it again in the flesh. A little girl, Cristina, is there. A magnificent, captivating, and enchanting novel.
The author takes us through Barcelona and this cemetery of forgotten books. A book has a soul, its own, to which those who have read it add theirs, and of course, that of the one who wrote it. Carlos Ruiz Zafón, between a theological and materialistic debate, leads us to ponder the meaning of words, phrases, and books.
Thierry Jan, writer
