Having read his earlier experimental novels and getting lost in some of them, this book—written in the sunset years of the Nobel winning author—proceeded at a more leisurely pace, was understandable (after I got past the scene-splicing that Llosa is noted for), and even tied up all loose ends for us in the end.
This is primarily a tale of relationships between fathers and sons, of the love between them, or the absence of it, and the consequences of neglect. It is a tale of the wages of business success which is not always rewarding. It is also a tale of the inequality between men and women, the latter being helpless pawns in the hands of their powerful lovers. Two story lines, one set in Piura in northern Peru and the other set in the capital of Lima, interweave in alternating chapters before they come together at the conclusion; both stories have remarkable similarities in father-son relationships and business fortunes, and both are connected by two sisters, one living in Piura and the other in Lima. Each chapter ends in a surprise, making you want to read on, reminding me of those old Superman radio plays where I couldn’t wait for the next week’s episode as we had been left hanging after the present one ended.
Felicito, the Piuran protagonist, owns a transport company and is being blackmailed for protection money through a series of letters signed with a crab motif. Felicito has two sons who work in the business with him, his wife is a silent partner at home, and he has a young mistress, Mabel, whom he has set up with an apartment and an allowance. Felicito is driven by the sacrifices of his farmer father who raised him and advised him never to let anyone push him around. Therefore, Felicito will not acquiesce to the blackmailers’ demands. In Lima, there are two protagonists: Octogenarian Ismael, owner of an insurance company, who is marrying his maid 40 years younger to him and wants to disinherit his wastrel twin sons; and Ismael’s loyal employee, Rigoberto, who is taking early retirement to enjoy the world of art that he had given up for a business career, while his teenage son, Fonchito, is seeing troubling visions of a Mephistopheles like man called Edilberto Torres.
As the plot thickens we glean surprising insights into this cast: Felicito suspects that his older son, Miguel, is not his; Mabel has a younger lover; Ismael is not as beneficent as he appears; Fonchito, the angelic child, has a trickster’s nature; Rigoberto’s wife is bisexual; Rigoberto himself gets off sexually by viewing works of art and talking dirty with his wife; Ismael’s evil twins want to sue Rigoberto for allowing their father’s “illegal” marriage to go through. The men are passionate and romantic and make no bones about their need for sex, whether with their wives or with others. Peru is emerging as a prosperous nation after years of neglect and mismanagement. The translator is having difficulty introducing a Piuran figure of speech che guá or “hey, waddya think,” in English—in the most dramatic moments, a character may end his speech with “hey,waddya think!” and crack me up into laughter, causing the opposite effect of what the author intended.
Many of these characters also appeared in Llosa’s earlier book The Green House which was a very difficult read given the oodles of scene-splicing that went on there. In this novel too we have scenes woven into others between consequent lines of dialogue, which I guess are intended to convey a split screen cinematic effect but which can be very difficult to read. However, I guess Llosa is older and wiser in this book, and the scene-splicing is not too distracting and is at its tolerable limit. However, be prepared to be reading a scene in which Rigoberto and Fonchito are discussing Edilberto Torres, only to find Edilberto and Fonchito discussing Rigoberto in the next line.
The two story lines converge with phalanxes of reporters mobbing Felicito in Piura and Rigoberto in Lima respectively. Treachery is uncovered and dealt with, and the surprise for me is how cold-bloodedly Felicito disposes of the transgressors; even the police sergeant Lituma remarks on it. And the downtrodden sisters in the story are rewarded for their long suffering loyalty. I did feel sorry for Mabel: wives have it easier in the end than mistresses. As for the elusive Edilberto Torres, I will henceforth look behind my shoulder whenever sitting on an airplane in case he is lurking around, for he represents the mendacity within us: the cold-blooded drive of Felicito, the evil in the twins, the anger of Miguel, the duplicity of Ismael, the kinkiness of Rigoberto, and the trickster in Fonchito. Hey, waddya think?