After hearing about this book from my friend (the story for that is here), I knew I just had to get a copy of one. Most of Singapore’s bookstores did not carry it and the one that did, Prologue, ran out of stock, so I asked my friend Caloy to buy one for me in Manila. He handed it to me personally when we met here last Friday while he was on a short vacation. I was so happy, it was like my birthday had arrived a couple of weeks earlier.
I resisted the urge to start reading the book right then and there and only started after we were done with dinner and I was riding the bus home by myself. I flipped it over onto its back and read the summary.
Three years after her husband Max’s death, Shelley feels no more adjusted to being a widow than she did that first terrible day. That is, until the doorbell rings. Standing on her front step is a young man who looks so much like Max – same smile, same eyes, same age, same adorable bump in his nose – he could be Max’s long-lost relation. He introduces himself as Paolo, an Italian editor of American coffee table books, and shows Shelley some childhood photos. Paolo tells her that the man in the photos, the bearded man who Paolo says is his grandfather though he never seems to age, is Max. Her Max. And he is alive and well.
As outrageous as Paolo’s claims seem–how could her husband be alive? And if he is, why hasn’t he looked her up? – Shelley desperately wants to know the truth. She and Paolo jet across the globe to track Max down – if it is really Max – and along the way, Shelley recounts the European package tour where they had met. As she relives Max’s stories of bloody Parisian barricades, medieval Austrian kitchens, and buried Roman boathouses, Shelley begins to piece together the story of who her husband was and what these new revelations mean for her “happily ever after.” And as she and Paolo get closer to the truth, Shelley discovers that not all stories end where they are supposed to.
Oooh, what an interesting mysterious premise, I thought as I dove into the prologue.
I finished reading the book earlier today and here are my random thoughts as I read the book:
- I love the cute alliterations that each chapter is titled with (sample: eggs and endings, daughters and dragons, letters and lies).
- I like the poetic quality of the author’s writing style. I found myself musing on more than one occasion that I wished I could write as beautifully as her. My own writing style is a bit straightforward and lackluster (in other words: boring).
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The author liberally uses similes and metaphors. Those two are my favorite figures of speech, but there were moments when her metaphors got a bit confusing for me, in that I thought she meant them literally when they were in fact metaphors, so I guess it’s just a watch out, that’s all.
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I liked going on the slight detour with the characters, seeing different places in Europe through their eyes and also going back in time to experience Max’s stories through his eyes. When you read the book, you don’t just end up reading one story, but many small ones. It is a mosaic, much like the ones that our lead Shelley makes.
And now for my peeves (SPOILER ALERT):
- I’m annoyed with Max for leaving Shelley like that after a mere two years that they were together. If he really loved her, how could he? Why couldn’t he just have trusted her with his secret? But I guess he needed to do what he did, otherwise we wouldn’t have a story in the first place.
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I’m annoyed with Shelley for what she did in the end. Couldn’t she have waited before trying to get immortal? I mean, what if she had failed? But just like what Max did, I guess she needed to do what she did because the ending wouldn’t have been quite as dramatic without it. Think Romeo and Juliet or the more recent Dear John. The only difference is that this ending is open-ended, so we don’t know actually know if there is a tragic or happy ever after. I actually like it that way.
All in all, I’d say it’s a good read and I’ll be looking forward to Samantha’s next book. 🙂
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