Sunday, July 5, 2009

The sound of my voice sank into the bowels of the house like a coin falling into a bottomless well. - from The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

After reading Shadow of the Wind, I've been waiting, and waiting for The Angel's Game to be released. It was worth the wait. Zafon is a master of imagery. 1920's Barcelona is not a mere setting - no, it's more of an atmosphere of shadows and light. The author weaves a tale that will make you want to rush thru until the end but you don't so you can savor each word.

From Publishers WeeklyStarred Review. Fans of Zafón's The Shadow of the Wind and new readers alike will be delighted with this gothic semiprequel. In 1920s Barcelona, David Martin is born into poverty, but, aided by patron and friend Pedro Vidal, he rises to become a crime reporter and then a beloved pulp novelist. David's creative pace is frenetic; holed up in his dream house—a decrepit mansion with a sinister history—he produces two great novels, one for Vidal to claim as his own, and one for himself. But Vidal's book is celebrated while David's is buried, and when Vidal marries David's great love, David accepts a commission to write a story that leads him into danger. As he explores the past and his mysterious publisher, David becomes a suspect in a string of murders, and his race to uncover the truth is a delicious puzzle: is he beset by demons or a demon himself? Zafón's novel is detailed and vivid, and David's narration is charming and funny, but suspect. Villain or victim, he is the hero of and the guide to this dark labyrinth that, by masterful design, remains thrilling and bewildering. (June) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

I'll leave you with passage from the book...
...The streets were deserted beneath a mercury moon. I looked up and thought I saw the ghost of a huge black storm spreading its wings over the city. A gust of white light split the skies and a mantle woven with raindrops cascaded down like a shower of glass daggers. A moment before the first drop touched the ground, time came to a standstill and hundreds of thousands of tears of light were suspended in the air like specks of dust. I knew that someone or something was walking behind me and could feels its breath on the nape of my neck.....
Zafon is a master.

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