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book_concierge's review
4.0
Wow! When Don Juan decides to make cellophane in his remote jungle paper factory he is unprepared for the result of success. The product’s transparency infects the Don and all those who live on the hacienda; there are plagues of truth and desire as a result. No one has secrets anymore. Passions are revealed. Lies cannot be told. The characters rush to action based on their perceived truths, but no one sees all clearly.
This is a very Latin book with curanderos, tribal wars, jungles, and military juntas. Arana’s magical realism includes visually stunning imagery.
UPDATE, July 2009 - Our book club found much to discuss in this charming, vividly written, humorous fable. I like it just as well (if not more) on this second reading as I did when I first picked it up 3 years ago.
This is a very Latin book with curanderos, tribal wars, jungles, and military juntas. Arana’s magical realism includes visually stunning imagery.
UPDATE, July 2009 - Our book club found much to discuss in this charming, vividly written, humorous fable. I like it just as well (if not more) on this second reading as I did when I first picked it up 3 years ago.
megea's review against another edition
2.0
I had such high expectations for this book; I was really hoping for magical realism. It started out strong, reminding me a little bit of Isabel Allende. Unfortunately, it progressed a little too far along the continuum towards romance for me; which is why I'm rating it as only ok.
winterzeshoek's review
5.0
A wonderful colourful novel about a culture unknown to me. I grew to love the eccentric patriach in the course of this book, despite his flaws, and although I'm not a big fan of magical realisme, here it was subtly done and very effective.
theobacn's review against another edition
5.0
I was in the mood for a good magical realism novel, and this fit the bit very nicely. Funny at times, spectacular imagery, great characters, and a clever title/subplot. Definitely will be reading her autobiography soon.
lnzlou55's review against another edition
3.0
This was a beautifully written book and I am glad that I read it, but I can't say that I completely enjoyed it. So much of the story rambled on about seemingly nothing. I found myself not really caring about the characters that weren't being discussed at the time. Maybe there was just too many stories going on at once for me to truly be engaged by the story. After a while I found myself reading just to finish the book, not to find out what was happening next. I did like seeing how Don Victor found ways to make cellophane and the trials of living in the Amazon.
bootypicasso's review
4.0
Omg, I really liked this book. I am currently writing a book report on it for my Spanish class (so in Spanish. Help)
edsantiago's review
4.0
Charming. Engaging. Thought-provoking. And, most importantly to me, honest.
Over the decades I’ve collected a set of neurotic and semicapricious rules about my reading; rules I’ve discovered, not really invented; patterns I’ve noticed about the books that work for me or don’t. You doubtless have your own. I don’t know if mine are accurate, and I don’t really understand why my brain works the way it does; but one guideline that stands out to me in fiction is that a world must be consistent within itself, and without too much “cheating.” Cheating can be hard to pin down, and I suspect that some days I’m more forgiving than others, but in general books that feel cheaty end up on my Abandoned pile. The Harry Potter books, much as I enjoyed parts of them, are cheaty. Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books, to my constant wonder, have never felt so.
I mention this because, throughout my entire reading of Cellophane, I kept wondering: where is she going with this? Am I going to feel cheated? (Within reason: this is magical realism after all). And, as much as she skirts the edge, I never felt cheated. Captivated and enthralled, certainly, and thinking back on it I can’t really figure out why! On the surface, Cellophane deals with a somewhat megalomaniacal eccentric, a Fitzcarraldo type who relocated to the deep Amazon two decades ago to (successfully, unlike Fitz) pursue a dream of manufacturing paper; he is now obsessed with producing cellophane, and the instant he does, a curse starts to settle on his hacienda: a curse of truth-telling, of inappropriate transparency. (Get it? Get it?) More curses are to follow.
What makes Cellophane work, I think, is Arana’s heart. Her characters are not always threedimensional, but certainly two and a half, painted with love and compassion. (Not always—there are cookiecutter villains—but the people we care about can be complex and do not always go where we expect them to). Arana understands the difficulty of human communication and weaves that as an underlying theme throughout. And throughout it all, Arana’s voice is filled with tenderness, kindness, some wistfulness over our quirky human customs, and a distinct curiosity toward examining our assumptions and perspectives. I enjoyed this so much more than I had ever expected.
Over the decades I’ve collected a set of neurotic and semicapricious rules about my reading; rules I’ve discovered, not really invented; patterns I’ve noticed about the books that work for me or don’t. You doubtless have your own. I don’t know if mine are accurate, and I don’t really understand why my brain works the way it does; but one guideline that stands out to me in fiction is that a world must be consistent within itself, and without too much “cheating.” Cheating can be hard to pin down, and I suspect that some days I’m more forgiving than others, but in general books that feel cheaty end up on my Abandoned pile. The Harry Potter books, much as I enjoyed parts of them, are cheaty. Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books, to my constant wonder, have never felt so.
I mention this because, throughout my entire reading of Cellophane, I kept wondering: where is she going with this? Am I going to feel cheated? (Within reason: this is magical realism after all). And, as much as she skirts the edge, I never felt cheated. Captivated and enthralled, certainly, and thinking back on it I can’t really figure out why! On the surface, Cellophane deals with a somewhat megalomaniacal eccentric, a Fitzcarraldo type who relocated to the deep Amazon two decades ago to (successfully, unlike Fitz) pursue a dream of manufacturing paper; he is now obsessed with producing cellophane, and the instant he does, a curse starts to settle on his hacienda: a curse of truth-telling, of inappropriate transparency. (Get it? Get it?) More curses are to follow.
What makes Cellophane work, I think, is Arana’s heart. Her characters are not always threedimensional, but certainly two and a half, painted with love and compassion. (Not always—there are cookiecutter villains—but the people we care about can be complex and do not always go where we expect them to). Arana understands the difficulty of human communication and weaves that as an underlying theme throughout. And throughout it all, Arana’s voice is filled with tenderness, kindness, some wistfulness over our quirky human customs, and a distinct curiosity toward examining our assumptions and perspectives. I enjoyed this so much more than I had ever expected.
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