I just finished reading an amazing book, Isabel Allende's memoir, Paula. I am not normally keen on memoir as a genre, but this book is an exception. Allende began it as a letter to her daughter, who at the time was in hospital critically ill. Allende writes about her childhood in Chile, her own naivete about politics despite being the niece of Salvador Allende, her family's life in exile after it becomes clear that if she remains in Chile she'll be murdered by the Pinochet regime, and her evolution from a jornalist to novelist. It's fascinating, it's lyrical, and, although it's occasionally sad, it's not depressing.
There were a few sections where I did feel as though as she was a little too full of herself, but when you're both a best-selling novelist and drop dead gorgeous into your 50s (at the time the memoir was written), a bit of ego is understandable.
There were a few sections where I did feel as though as she was a little too full of herself,
ReplyDeleteOh, I'm pretty sure that at times we all get too full of ourselves, I know that I do.
Happy New Year... Be safe and sane this evening, whatever in the hell sane is.
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