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A review by mkinne
The Prisoner of Heaven by Carlos Ruiz Zafón
4.0
The title sounds schmaltzy and I found myself questioning why I was reading it, but it is actually sarcastic. Part of the story is set in a Barcelona jail just after the Spanish Civil War, when those opposed to Franco's regime were, at best, imprisoned. One of the prisoners is David Martìn, author and the focus of the previous book in the series, The Angel's Game, who "...because of his ravings and his status as the prison's resident lunatic, had [been] jokingly nicknamed 'the Prisoner of Heaven'." Despite the title, The Prisoner of Heaven is centered mainly around Fermín (another recurring character) and how his past has come back to haunt him on the eve of his wedding.
Zafón is a pleasure to read, with exchanges like this, between Daniel Sempere & Fermìn:
"'For days you've been looking like a cockroach stuffed in a raincoat.'
'Since you mention it, that's an adroit comparison, if I may say so. For the cockroach may not have the swaggering good looks required by the frivolous norms of this daft society we've had the dubious fortune to live in, but both the underrated arthropod and yours truly are characterised by an unmatched instinct for survival, an overwhelming appetite and a leonine libido that won't relent even under extreme radiation levels.'"
And this, about the head of the Montjuïc prison where Fermìn & Martin are kept: "His life seemed destined for the bitter, grey existence of mediocrities whom Go, in his infinite cruelty, has endowed with delusions of grandeur and a boundless ambition far exceeding their talents. The war, however, had recast his destiny as it had that of so many others, and his luck had changed when, in a situation somewhere between chance and fortune-hunting, Mauricio Valls, until then enamoured only of his own prodigious talent and exquisite refinement, wedded the daughter of a tycoon whose far-reaching enterprises supported much of General Franco's budget and his troops."
My only regret is not knowing Spanish well enough to read and appreciate it but, as with Zafón's other books, they are translated by Lucia Graves, daughter of poet Robert Graves and author in her own right.
Zafón is a pleasure to read, with exchanges like this, between Daniel Sempere & Fermìn:
"'For days you've been looking like a cockroach stuffed in a raincoat.'
'Since you mention it, that's an adroit comparison, if I may say so. For the cockroach may not have the swaggering good looks required by the frivolous norms of this daft society we've had the dubious fortune to live in, but both the underrated arthropod and yours truly are characterised by an unmatched instinct for survival, an overwhelming appetite and a leonine libido that won't relent even under extreme radiation levels.'"
And this, about the head of the Montjuïc prison where Fermìn & Martin are kept: "His life seemed destined for the bitter, grey existence of mediocrities whom Go, in his infinite cruelty, has endowed with delusions of grandeur and a boundless ambition far exceeding their talents. The war, however, had recast his destiny as it had that of so many others, and his luck had changed when, in a situation somewhere between chance and fortune-hunting, Mauricio Valls, until then enamoured only of his own prodigious talent and exquisite refinement, wedded the daughter of a tycoon whose far-reaching enterprises supported much of General Franco's budget and his troops."
My only regret is not knowing Spanish well enough to read and appreciate it but, as with Zafón's other books, they are translated by Lucia Graves, daughter of poet Robert Graves and author in her own right.