Once again, Serge Gorodish and his exotic sidekick, Alba, are thrust into thrilling adventure when Alba unwittingly becomes involved with a secret cult and Gorodish determinedly tracks her to the Majave desert
Back in the day I thought this series was so cool: sexy, and French, and awesome. I suppose it's telling that I've never felt a desire to re-read them. Nowadays the whole set up seems skeevy.
I like and own the movie Diva, and when I read in Roger Ebert's column that it was based on the novel of the same name, I tried to look it up. Alas, the only Delacorta book on the shelf was Alba, so I checked that out.
Delacorta is the pseudonym of Daniel Odier. I am guessing from his web site that he does not care about fiction anymore, as the web site is devoted to tantrism and buddhism.
This book is clearly not the first in a series (It looks like the order is Diva, Luna, Nana, Lola, Vida, and finally Alba). The book centers around Serge Gorodish and Alba, his ward who brings him people in the grip of mysteries to solve.
At the start of the novel, they are residing in California. Serge has been a minor annoyance to the local authorities (among other things, he is compulsively littering), and Alba has come to the attention of Jason, a young blind man who is trying to escape the attention of The Group, a wealthy and influential group of blind people who are led by The Wise Ones.
At once, conspiracies abound. Jason, with Alba's help, makes a break for it. Jason's sister is kidnapped. Alba goes from handy helper to being The Group's Sphinx, a combination Chosen One and Prophecy. Serge, meanwhile, has been sent to jail on trumped-up charges (and there are very funny scenes in which he treats the experience as a spartan resort complex).
Eventually Serge is released with the help of a former member of the Group who did manage to escape The Wise Ones years ago (or did he?). Treks across the desert ensue, where Alba and Serge meet eccentric characters (there do not appear to be any other kind, but having said that, if I ever start an amateur football team, I will insist that they name themselves the Wonderful Pink Airplanes). Delacorta's U.S. is very spare, with very isolated individuals.
Despite the fact that Delacorta's sense of humor matches my own, I am not rating this book terribly highly. The translation is good (and as far as I can tell, preserves the jokes very well), but at this stage of the series, Alba doesn't want to be just Serge's ward anymore, and without knowing about their relationship in the previous books it comes off as a little creepy (I may change my opinion when I read the other books). I like surreal, so the vast conspiracy of blind people didn't bother me at all, but the macguffin everyone was after did. So only a two-star rating for me right now.
***I have scored this so high because, for a time, it was one of my favourite books. Keep in mind I read it in high school so... it's hard to take the loves of a 14 year old me seriously. The 80's weren't exactly one's finest hour. I'm positive that if I read these books again I would have nothing to say but that these were puerile fantasies unworthy of my time.***