Aleph by Paulo CoelhoMy rating: 2 of 5 stars
So, the back of the book says fiction. The blurb says it is Coelho's most "personal novel to date." Given that it is written like a travel memoir (of sorts), we are left wondering just how "personal" it is. The main character *is* Paulo, the author, and after receiving his "call to adventure" (monomyth), he embarks on a journey that is not nearly as mystical as it is annoying and disturbing. The character of Hilal, a violinist, injects herself into Paulo's travel coterie, and is so inconsistently written that we don't feel as sorry for her as we should. She is exploited by Paulo, with whom she shares a past mystical connection. The relationship is textbook dysfunctional -- there is some sort of weird paternalistic vibe, she's starstruck, but then she's throwing things at him and he's getting naked. I'm well aware that there's a whole "let's get naked and spiritual together" crowd, so maybe this book is for them.
There are the typical Coelho takeaways (occasionally): "Although sometimes...we need to be strangers to ourselves. Then the hidden light in our souls will illuminate what we need to see." (40) See also insights such as: "I know a lot of people who feel they have an identity only when they're talking about their problems. That way, they exist, because their problems are linked to what they judge to be "their history." (116). While I agree, there is just a dust of pretension covering most of the book. The hero is perhaps redeemed, perhaps not--by the end of the book I just wanted it to end. As someone who has enjoyed many of Coelho's books, this one left me uncomfortable and not interested in any other volumes like this.
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