The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende, 5/5 stars, Magical Realism/Historical Fiction, 433 pages, 1982

I first read The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende when I was the manager of a B. Dalton bookstore in the Washington DC area 25ish years ago. Each month the staff would have to choose a recommendation for a display and I would pick one to read. This was one of those recs and it was my first foray into the world of magical realism. For that it will always have a special place in my heart. I’ve long had this on my list of top 100 books, but this was my first reread and I had forgotten much.

I can’t believe that I’d forgotten what a monster Esteban was. Seriously, this is more his story than anyone’s and I remembered the women with the green hair and the seers more that I remembered the rapes. So much to discuss if you have a book group waiting to take it on.

The last third of the book had more of a focus on Chile’s history and was fascinating (based on actual history of the 1970s). Allende provides such a rich picture of the South American country. Still relevant today. The ‘right’ overthrew the ‘socialists’ by a coup, only to empower a dictator who ended democracy for the country. A cautionary tale if anyone is paying attention.

After some thought I think I’ll go ahead and put it on my favorites list for now. We’ll see if anything comes along and beats it as I reread favorites.

Have you read it? What did you think?

“…she did not believe that the world was a vale of tears but rather a joke that God had played and that it was idiotic to take it seriously if He himself never had.”

“Just as when we come into the world, when we die we are afraid of the unknown. But the fear is something from within us that has nothing to do with reality. Dying is like being born: just a change”

“She tried to recall the cold, the silence, and that precious feeling of owning the world, of being twenty years old and having her whole life ahead of her, of making love slowly and calmly, drunk with the scent of the forest and their love, without a past, without suspecting the future, with just the incredible richness of that present moment in which they stared at each other, smelled each other, kissed each other, and explored each other’s bodies, wrapped in the whisper of the wind among the trees and the sound of the nearby waves breaking against the rocks at the foot of the cliff, exploding in a crash of pungent surf, and the two of them embracing underneath a single poncho like Siamese twins, laughing and swearing this night would last forever, that they were the only ones in the whole world who had discovered love.”

“thought about the years I still had left to live and decided that without her it wasn’t worth it, for I would never find another woman with her green hair and underwater beauty. If anyone had told me then that I would live to be more than ninety, I would have put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.”