The all-knowing djinn of ancient lore can adopt many forms, but there are times when it chooses the limits of one body, one life. In this bewitching first novel, a djinn takes up residence in a restlessly brilliant woman, guiding her choices in life and love as she chases the satisfaction that eludes her—from a cloistered Florentine boarding school to the glamour of a Milan fashion house to a life beyond her means in 1990s Manhattan. She is as skilled at observing the worlds she moves through as her djinn is skilled at observing her, but an ever-growing self-awareness does not help her to realize her heart’s desires. That is, until the wise djinn puts her in the path of the imperious octogenarian and mother of a man she can never fully possess. With Diary of a Djinn , Alhadeff has given us a novel of playful intelligence and insight, and a poignant testimony to love’s unpredictable unfolding.
I valiantly attempted to follow this one through but it lost me along the way. Probably around the moment when Hare and Princess entered the picture.
Before that, I thought the idea of a "djinn" living in a body and controlling the decisions made by the body was fascinating. I basically skimmed the last 25 pages. Unfortunate as I wanted to be enraptured. I wasn't. Disappointing.
I learned that I need some semblance of a structure within a story. I can't seem to enjoy one if it jumps around willy nilly without rhythm or a point to the whole thing.
Despite leaving a mere three-star "I liked it" rating, which is what I gave this book in my own system the first year I read it, this is actually one of my favorite books. I re-read it all the time, when I'm having money problems, apartment problems; when I'm wondering what kind of djinn could possibly live inside me to make me do the things I do. It's a comforting and under-rated book.
While I found a large number of passages and vignettes in this novel brilliant, insightful and laugh-out-loud funny, the overall composition is nearly indigestible.