I'll be honest, some of the things that were played straight in this book, had they been executed more poorly, probably would have made me roll my eyes, but they didn't; instead, I just found my heart beating really fast. It's a very melodramatic book, but more than the sum of its parts; it's written so evocatively and most of the characters are well-crafted, lively, and sympathetic in their imperfection. There are only a few truly consistently good characters who actually do anything, in my opinion, if any, and yet I found myself forgiving them mostly, especially since, again, they were really sympathetic.
When I said I wholly enjoyed this I was kinda lying: there was something that abstractly bothered me, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment so I was only kinda lying!! The first is the denouement. Nuria's manuscript is heartwrenching to read, but in a way it kind of utterly destroys the pace of the plot -- not the book itself, because the part itself is still really good, but in that it's almost an anticlimax.
In the end, Daniel and Julián were only drawn together by an extended series of coincidences, which isn't actually a problem; it's actually kind of beautiful, and I think if there had been something more tying them together it could've been, oddly enough, 'too easy'. It might've been the final straw that actually broke my suspension of disbelief, especially after the whole Penélope and Julián incest thing (which just broke my heart, really...). But it does end up very unfortunate in that, after the whole book is a careful unravelling of part of the mystery, the answers are all text-dumped at you in a sudden rush, in about as many pages as it took you to learn the simple fact that Nuria was lying about Miquel. That there's really nothing at all left for you; Nuria held nothing back. But like I said, it somehow didn't detract from my enjoyment, even though I found myself questioning it; it was still so well-done and led up to the ending scene so perfectly that it didn't bother me at all. Ultimately, enjoying the book the way it is, I find it doesn't matter.
I think the worst thing for me was Miquel suddenly turning violent towards Nuria and her blaming herself because of her feelings towards Julián, because I hated seeing that happen to Nuria and also because it was so uncomfortable, but then people who are kind and peaceful do terrible things all the time, as unpleasant to realise as it is. Plus, as the book itself reminds you many times, it was very very common then and looked upon as a necessary evil by some (just as it is common now, but I digress)...
One thing I wish had been explained more was the Cemetary of Lost Books, but I'm actually really glad it wasn't, because it didn't really need explaining for narrative reasons, and it certainly retained its mystery and allure without the explanation. It's just that such a place, well, as an ardent reader myself I found myself longing for it, and in a book that makes such beautiful use of multiple bookends, you end up finding yourself inevitably drawn there anyway.
I think this book will linger with me. Memory, nostalgia, loneliness, regret, parental alienation, literary parallels... all things I totally eat up. I do admittedly think there are some who might just take this book as it is and see it as too clichéd, flowery, melodramatic, self-indulgent, badly structured (mainly the problem with Nuria's letter), etc.; there's always a risk with some of the elements that have been used, and some people just plain don't like Gothic fiction, I guess. As I said, I would disagree; I reiterate that it's more than a sum of its parts, and I find that it's mesmerising from the start.
