This book may have infinite potential for idea mining. It's extremely idea dense at the same time that it is obscure and mysterious to such a degree that I think no one can completely comprehend it (Ruiz may have comprehended himself, but that is far from certain).
As I've said elsewhere, this is nominally about cinema, or else it is entirely about cinema. I won't make a definite pronouncement one way or the other.
But it seems that people interested in the various arts, those who are interested in a specific art, or else mere philosophers can find quite a lot to inspire them--and a lot to wrap their brains around--within the pages of this book.
The author lays out his intended structure right up front:
"...I have chosen a genre resembling what in sixteenth-century Spain were called Miscelaneas, theoretical/narrative discourses where the author's prowess is to turn verbal somersaults, with sudden shifts of focus and unexpected interpolations--in short, a hodgpodge, a farrago, 'everything but the kitchen sink.'"
I'm very glad to have revisited this book. It has my head spinning with ideas at the same time that it has renewed my sense of mission. (But I'm not about to make a movie). It is both evocative and invokative as Ruiz would persuade us is a part of the essence of cinema poetry.
Tragically, I face the risk that my review must appear too abstract to deliver a sense of the text it refers to. To come more to the "point," the book largely deals with the potential of the artist to conjure up poetry from the spaces between ideas, from conflict of forces, from the unfolding potential of shadow images, from the cinematic subconscious, from questioning what it means for a work to be "good," or "bad," and from posing challenges to predatory theories such as "central conflict theory." He inspires us to seek out the secret art of cinema which currently goes incognito, the spirit that threatens a some-day resuscitation despite the current morbid (or extinct) state of the art.
Cult of the Phoenix, anyone?