A review by jdglasgow
Zorro by Isabel Allende
4.0
Before reading this book, I was only dimly aware of the Zorro character. I may have watched the television series occasionally as a child, but if I did I don’t have any strong recollection of having done so. I therefore went into Isabel Allende’s ZORRO knowing very little about the character, except that he is sort of a super-hero – strong, quick-witted and quick on his feet, and an expert swordsman who leaves “the mark of the Z” as his calling card. Allende’s novel is essentially the origin story of the character; think of it like ‘Batman Begins’. It’s Diego de la Vega as a child and teen, and as the book progresses he learns about secret passageways into and out of the hacienda where he lives, for instance; he has reason to learn acrobatics; he acquires the iconic black cape and mask. Each of these moments, even if you aren’t necessarily familiar with the ins and outs of the character, are apparent. They’re tinged with significance. And that is often thrilling.
Diego’s history is being told by an unnamed narrator who assures that they are a participant in the tale, though it is not until the end of the book that the author’s identity is revealed. This affectation called to mind the Lemony Snicket books in that there are hints in that series (I’ve read 4 of the 13 books) that the author is a character as well. This leads to the occasional bit of humor, as when the writer ends a section stating that their quill is running low on ink and then commenting that some scientists envision a future where pens are mechanical, though that would rob writing of its intimacy.
I will admit that I was somewhat frustrated by the early parts of the book because I was eager for Zorro to make his appearance. That said, the highlight of the book for me was when Diego and his friend Bernardo, pre-teens each, are sent by Diego’s Native grandmother White Owl on what is essentially a vision quest. The story follows Bernardo first. He has not spoken for a year after witnessing his mother brutally raped and murdered in an attack on the de la Vega hacienda. While stumbling, hungry, through the forest Bernardo recognizes that something is following him. After some time, he recognizes it to be a foal—black as night—and he pauses to chew some grass for the little horse and holds it out as a peace offering. The pony cautiously approaches and takes some of the grass from his hand. Bernardo names the steed Tornado and even knowing little about Zorro it’s obvious this horse will remain pivotal to the story. As the foal feeds, Bernardo says aloud, “It’s not as good as your mama’s milk, but it will do.” This is the first thing he’s said aloud in months. Hearing himself speak, the reference to mothers, it finally lets him release all of his pent-up emotion. He screams and wails in anger and grief. It’s a wrenching moment.
Meanwhile, Diego has gone in the opposite direction and is lost in an endless plain. He worries he’ll never find his way back and that he’ll die out here. As night falls, he builds a campsite and a fire, albeit a little one. He can hear coyotes crying in the distance and worries that his miniscule campfire won’t be enough to ward off any attacking animals. He slips into an uneasy sleep but awakes in darkness, two red eyes staring unblinking at him across the fire. It’s a fox—a zorro. Each night after that, the same event occurs. Each night, he awakes to find the fox’s glowing red eyes watching him. This is the first reference to Zorro in the book and it’s so exciting when it comes.
The central tension of most of the rest of the book comes from a rival for a woman’s affection in the form of one Rafael Moncada. Although it’s quite obvious from the start that Diego has no future with Juliana, with whom he is smitten, he spends most of his time during a trip to Spain trying to woo her. During this section, there is an exciting duel sequence, then later scenes of Juliana’s father being accused of treason and sentenced to an awful fortress of a prison not unlike the Bastille before eventual execution. This part of the book drew shades of A TALE OF TWO CITIES for me. Moncada thinks he’s won Juliana as she has no security without her father’s money, and this leads to a great fight sequence in which Diego, not yet outfitted in the Zorro costume, nevertheless bests his nemesis by leaping around the room to evade his blade. Once Moncada is defeated, Diego, Juliana, and her sister Isabel (hmm…) join the crew of a ship to flee back to Diego’s California home but are overtaken by pirates who hold the women hostage. The portion of the book which takes place on the high seas put me in mind of the OUTLANDER series, and a subsequent plot point where Diego—now fully Zorro—has to break into another highly fortified prison in California to rescue his wrongfully incarcerated father definitely also called to mind the end of the first in that series.
Although it only comes at the very end, the full Zorro scenes are rewarding. Tornado makes his triumphant return, as he must, and Diego does the Clark Kent thing of appearing to be a weakling when acting as himself the better to obscure his identity as a crimefighter. He one-ups Moncada (back again) by having Bernardo act as a second Zorro, then gets one-upped himself when a third Zorro shows up to save the day! It’s all very enjoyable.
As mentioned, though, some of the time I was impatiently waiting for Zorro to arrive. I know this is an “origin story” book, but I felt at times bothered by the delay, in part because it seemed there were a number of side stories which didn’t really contribute to the book overall. The Juliana stuff, frankly, aside from a couple of explosive action sequences inspired by her, grew tiresome because of how clear it was that she was not a long-term romantic prospect. There were also some questionable stuff about African slavery in the pirate portion of the book which made me uneasy. It was meant to be resolved by Juliana convincing her pirate beau (oh yeah, she ends up marrying a pirate instead of Diego, sorry) to give up the slave trade but that didn’t really feel like a satisfactory way to handle the topic, especially as it ends with two Black girls holding umbrellas over the heads of Juliana and her new husband, despite being putatively “free” now.
So yes, I can’t say that I was totally on-board and loved ZORRO every step of the way, but for the most part I did find it kinetic and engrossing.
Diego’s history is being told by an unnamed narrator who assures that they are a participant in the tale, though it is not until the end of the book that the author’s identity is revealed. This affectation called to mind the Lemony Snicket books in that there are hints in that series (I’ve read 4 of the 13 books) that the author is a character as well. This leads to the occasional bit of humor, as when the writer ends a section stating that their quill is running low on ink and then commenting that some scientists envision a future where pens are mechanical, though that would rob writing of its intimacy.
I will admit that I was somewhat frustrated by the early parts of the book because I was eager for Zorro to make his appearance. That said, the highlight of the book for me was when Diego and his friend Bernardo, pre-teens each, are sent by Diego’s Native grandmother White Owl on what is essentially a vision quest. The story follows Bernardo first. He has not spoken for a year after witnessing his mother brutally raped and murdered in an attack on the de la Vega hacienda. While stumbling, hungry, through the forest Bernardo recognizes that something is following him. After some time, he recognizes it to be a foal—black as night—and he pauses to chew some grass for the little horse and holds it out as a peace offering. The pony cautiously approaches and takes some of the grass from his hand. Bernardo names the steed Tornado and even knowing little about Zorro it’s obvious this horse will remain pivotal to the story. As the foal feeds, Bernardo says aloud, “It’s not as good as your mama’s milk, but it will do.” This is the first thing he’s said aloud in months. Hearing himself speak, the reference to mothers, it finally lets him release all of his pent-up emotion. He screams and wails in anger and grief. It’s a wrenching moment.
Meanwhile, Diego has gone in the opposite direction and is lost in an endless plain. He worries he’ll never find his way back and that he’ll die out here. As night falls, he builds a campsite and a fire, albeit a little one. He can hear coyotes crying in the distance and worries that his miniscule campfire won’t be enough to ward off any attacking animals. He slips into an uneasy sleep but awakes in darkness, two red eyes staring unblinking at him across the fire. It’s a fox—a zorro. Each night after that, the same event occurs. Each night, he awakes to find the fox’s glowing red eyes watching him. This is the first reference to Zorro in the book and it’s so exciting when it comes.
The central tension of most of the rest of the book comes from a rival for a woman’s affection in the form of one Rafael Moncada. Although it’s quite obvious from the start that Diego has no future with Juliana, with whom he is smitten, he spends most of his time during a trip to Spain trying to woo her. During this section, there is an exciting duel sequence, then later scenes of Juliana’s father being accused of treason and sentenced to an awful fortress of a prison not unlike the Bastille before eventual execution. This part of the book drew shades of A TALE OF TWO CITIES for me. Moncada thinks he’s won Juliana as she has no security without her father’s money, and this leads to a great fight sequence in which Diego, not yet outfitted in the Zorro costume, nevertheless bests his nemesis by leaping around the room to evade his blade. Once Moncada is defeated, Diego, Juliana, and her sister Isabel (hmm…) join the crew of a ship to flee back to Diego’s California home but are overtaken by pirates who hold the women hostage. The portion of the book which takes place on the high seas put me in mind of the OUTLANDER series, and a subsequent plot point where Diego—now fully Zorro—has to break into another highly fortified prison in California to rescue his wrongfully incarcerated father definitely also called to mind the end of the first in that series.
Although it only comes at the very end, the full Zorro scenes are rewarding. Tornado makes his triumphant return, as he must, and Diego does the Clark Kent thing of appearing to be a weakling when acting as himself the better to obscure his identity as a crimefighter. He one-ups Moncada (back again) by having Bernardo act as a second Zorro, then gets one-upped himself when a third Zorro shows up to save the day! It’s all very enjoyable.
As mentioned, though, some of the time I was impatiently waiting for Zorro to arrive. I know this is an “origin story” book, but I felt at times bothered by the delay, in part because it seemed there were a number of side stories which didn’t really contribute to the book overall. The Juliana stuff, frankly, aside from a couple of explosive action sequences inspired by her, grew tiresome because of how clear it was that she was not a long-term romantic prospect. There were also some questionable stuff about African slavery in the pirate portion of the book which made me uneasy. It was meant to be resolved by Juliana convincing her pirate beau (oh yeah, she ends up marrying a pirate instead of Diego, sorry) to give up the slave trade but that didn’t really feel like a satisfactory way to handle the topic, especially as it ends with two Black girls holding umbrellas over the heads of Juliana and her new husband, despite being putatively “free” now.
So yes, I can’t say that I was totally on-board and loved ZORRO every step of the way, but for the most part I did find it kinetic and engrossing.