Portugal Books

This was the first book I have read by Robert Wilson. Amazon recommended it to me as a frequent purchaser of books by Alan Furst. Wilson is not quite as good or evocative as Furst. The novel shifts back and forth between what appears to be a conventional murder investigation in the late 1990s in Portugal and the story of an SS officer who is sent to Portugal during World War II to procure wolfram (tungsten) for the Nazi war effort. There is little to like about any of the characters in this book, including the murder victim. Also, the book takes forever to establish the connection between the World War II story line and the more current one. That said, the book contains some surprising twists and turns. It keeps the reader's interest right up until the conclusion.

Robert Wilson's A Small Death in Lisbon is a fantastic World War II/modern era detective story. The cover of the book cleverly integrates the Nazi swastika into the buidling upon which sinister Nazi secret police shadows fall. Symbolically, the Nazi swastika interwoven into the buildings's windows represent the corrupt foundations of much of modern Europe.

Economic super powers such as Swedish retailer IKEA are tainted by Nazism. IKEA founder Ingvar Kamprad admitted to being an ex-Nazi. Wonder where his seed money came from? Similarly, in A Small Death in Lisbon, the machinations of the Nazi banker span decades, from WW II to modern, post Salazar, Portugal.

Setting this story in Portugal, Wilson examines the truly global reach of World War II. Remote lands like Portugal became vital to the war efforts of both Allies and Axis. Wolfram, also known as tungsten carbide, is a hard metal vital in providing tank armor and armor piercing ammunition. Portugal possessed huge reserves of this material and its neutral/fascist regime of Dr. Antonio Salazar became coveted by the belligerent powers.

Wilson expertly interweaves the murder of a young child with modern day Portugese society. The liberal use of Portugese phrases, food and coffee descriptions and above all, the ever present "barbaric heat" of summer transport the reader to the scene.

This work is amazing and you'll love it.

Fantastic book--rich, complex, wonderful characters, great writing. I'm looking forward to reading Wilson's other books.

This is one of the best thrillers I've read recently and, to my mind, Robert Wilson belongs in the same league with Michael Connelly, John Lescroart and a few others. What makes this book so superior to so many others is that it nicely blends two complex plots which work their way to a satisfying ending. And in the telling, you learn a lot about some interesting things, such as the wolfram (tungsten) intrigue during WWII, where Portugal supplied the vital mineral to both the Nazis and the Allies. You'll also learn a lot about Portugese history over the latter half of the 20th century. The hero, Inspector Ze Coelho, is an outstanding character and the plot(s) are suspenseful, authentic and compelling. The ending is a bit of a surprise but Wilson really never telegraphs his punches. Also, thankfully, he avoids the convenient coincidences that other, less able, authors employ to advance their plots or to end their books. All in all, this was one of the best reads I've had in recent months. I think this is Wilson's best book. Truly a very satisfying and enjoyable book.

So good. Great story development. But it's the little things that keep you amazed and engaged with the writing. Wilson comes up with phrasing, character insights and quips that are so true and magical they shimmer on just about every page. You know you're going to stumble on one every so often, and they pull you along.

If you are interested in reading a superb historical novel, then you should read "The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon." It is a mixture of a captivating mystery full of suspense and a historical novel. It involves the clandestine Jewish community of Lisbon their struggle and their mysticism of the Kabbalah with historical accuracy. I truly enjoyed reading this book and I am sure that many will find it both entertaining and instructive.The Name of the Rose (Everyman's Library (Cloth))

This is a fictionalized account of a progrom in early-16th century Lisbon.
It's a well-written and well-researched novel, which helps us understand why Jews left the Iberian Peninsula - their Promised Land, after Israel

I enjoyed the book immensely. Easy to read, great story, couldn't put it down. Enjoy....

This is a mystery that is also an historical novel and a condemnation of both the catholic church and the monarchies of the Iberian Peninsula. At the end of the fifteenth century, their "Most Catholic Majesties" Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain, decided to convert the Jews and Moslems of recently conquered Cordova as well as those in the rest of their kingdom. Underlying this decision was their ability to confiscate the riches and properties of anyone who didn't "volunteer" to convert. Even then, many of the 'converso' or New Christians were slaughtered to get their wealth on the argument that they were still 'secret jews'.

In 1497, King Manual of Portugal was convinced by the Dominican Friars that the Jews (and Moslems) of Portugal should be brought under the protection of the Catholic Church. Jews and Moslems were forcibly brought to the baptismal font and converted. Many were driven into the Tagus River where they were baptized 'en mass'; if a few (or more than a few) drowned, no matter, their souls were saved.

Ten years later (the 'New Christians' had been given twenty years to give up their evil ways) there was a 'pogrom' in Portugal, and many of the 'New Christians' were massacred and/or burned alive in the central square of Lisbon over a three day period that happened to coincide with Passover. The mobs that terrorized the city were lead by Dominican monks (many who would pay with their lives, later) who seemed to have taken especial pleasure in torturing, raping and plundering these New Christian/Jews.

In this atmosphere is set this novel. A well known and respected illuminator of books (and secret Kabbalist) is found murdered (his neck is cut the way an animal has to be to be considered slaughtered in the Kosher way) along with a young woman. They are both naked and the secret room they are in is locked from the inside. His nephew and protege, must find out who has killed his uncle.

This is a locked room mystery, and everything else is window dressing, but it's great window dressing and Zimler does a great job in describing both the historical, cultural and societal context within which all of the action occurs. It's a great read.

Set in 1506 Lisbon, "The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon" is a thriller that centres on a young manuscript illuminator whose uncle was found dead with a naked girl with him. The uncle was a Kabbalist and the investigation leads Berekiah into some rather unpredictable twists and turns.

The novel is rich in detail as it plunges the reader into the seething masses of fear and suspicion that raged at the time. Christians were burning Jews and massacres were pretty common experiences. Even the so-called Christians who had converted from Judaism were not safe. It is some of the more violent scenes that left me with a rather bitter aftertaste.

The book itself is well written, with a lot happening. I found it a hard book to second guess, which was a satisfying element to the book. The plot and setting are fairly unique, and I have not read a book exactly like it before.

Also, people interested in Kabbalah might find it an interesting foray in that mysterious world. A cynic might say that it was a useful marketting ploy on Richard Zimler's part, but the whole Kabbalist angle lends the book a specialness rarely found.

For crime fans, this is a book with something different and a definite alternate flavour. I enjoyed it immensely and would recommend it without reservation.

This story provided a wonderful escape as I read it and pictured the valley and the mountains, the river and the sheep...it does a great job of making me want to take on a similar adventure!

I found this to be a rather odd book, reading like a series of snapshots of the author's life in rural Andalusia. Stewart spends many pages at the beginning of the book recounting a lot of disagreeable time spent with the man who sold him his Spanish homestead in the province of Granada. It isn't until he has cleared this particular barrier that the story got more interesting for me.

There is some good writing in this journal about living off the land in a country not your own, but the same story has been told countless times by others. (What is it about the English that sends them off to the Continent to live rough so often?) Not sure that there are many revelations here that would drive you to buy this book. Still, it is pleasant reading in many of its parts and if you are interested in things Spanish, this might be a good read for you.

Read every one of Chris Stewart books and will continue to read as long as he keeps on writing.

What a pleasure it was to read this book. I just came out of National Poetry Month here on the NH Seacoast -- six weeks (it's expanding in both directions from April) of poetry readings with a festival of jazz and poetry as its centerpiece. I attended, hosted, read at, and otherwise participated in nearly 30 events during this period. When it was over, I needed a break; my brain hurt. At that point, I ran into a bus-driver friend who is also a reader. I asked him what he was reading and he recommended Driving Over Lemons. I usually plan my reading months ahead of time; but this time I bought it on impulse. What a treat. Totally laid back. Exciting but not sensationalist. Interesting but not preachy. A cast of genuinely quirky characters -- thankfully, not a "normal" one among them. And sheep, dogs, herbs, heat, flies. All bisected by a willful river. If you approach this book desiring anything more than something that is a simple pleasure to read, you're doing it a disservice. It certainly got my mind out of poetry long enough for me to regain my balance so I can now go back in fighting.

I opened this book with great anticipation because of my previous happy trips to Provence with Peter Mayle and Tuscany with Frances Mayes. Though Stewart's reporting of his experience as an ex-pat living on a rustic farm in Spain is serviceable and may be useful to someone planning a comparable adventure, the book never achieves the transporting quality of the best of this genre. When I closed it (half-way through), I missed enjoying that delicious sense of having made a trip to a new place without leaving my own armchair.

I just finished this book and I have to say I was blown away! Before writing this review I read the 1 and 2 star reviews and I have to agree with some of what they are saying but in the end this author really pulled it off. The beginning is slow and being a big fan of authors like Clive Cussler and Vince Flynn this is not the action packed type of spy novel and Andrea is no Mitch Rapp, and neither is Karl Voss but that doesn't make the book bad. To call this a thriller is over stepping though. The book has exciting parts in it but it's a dramatic and very romantic (not smut) book. Some of the other reviews found the ending sad and I have to admit I'm the kind of guy that likes a happy ending but I think the ending is brilliant!

I picked this up hoping it would be a good spy novel, and it was. Wilson spends plenty of time developing his characters, and you can feel connected to them throughout the tale.

The story starts during The Blitz in London and is broken into three parts, each taking place roughly 25 years apart, although nearly all the action takes place in the first two parts.

The plot is rather intricate, and if you'll have to pay attention if you want to have any idea who's on what side by the end, but it's basically a real-world, as opposed to super-hero, spy story.

Wilson's writing style sometimes bogs down, particularly when describing places and their names as characters move about. If I was from Lisbon I probably would have enjoyed the turn-by-turn directions from street to street, but since I'm not it became somewhat tedious. Also, characters occasionally speak languages other than English without translation.

All in, a good story with plausible characters that keeps you entertained.

I love a good spy novel, so I ploughed my way through this even though I sometimes found it not credible. I loved the first part set in 1944 Lisbon with all of its Casablanca-like atmosphere and intrigue. Supposedly the heroine had led a sheltered life; yet she is sent off at age 18 to engage in a most dangerous game, and she actually comes across as quite worldly. I found the whole idea of inter-generational spying not very believable. At the end I found my self paging back through the book to see if I had overlooked a key character in the plot. I don't think I would go out of my way to read another by Robert Wilson.

I think this book is better than the last few LaCarre books. And that's a pretty high standard.

Excellent wartime and post-war thriller by Robert Wilson. His writing is a dimension above most spy-book scribes, his characters are vivid and well-developed and he doesn't rely on serendipitous, contrived plot wild cards that other writers seem to favor. For those of us who like to follow the action with a map of the city or countryside, wilson obligingly provides street names and landmarks. This book covers a lot of ground, from wartime Lisbon to post-Soviet Berlin and London. At times, it's a little hard to tell what's going on -- sometimes the spy versus counterspy versus double agent, etc. -- gets a little confusing. But by the tender ending (and like other reviewers here note: you can see it coming a mile away) you know that you have read and thoroughly enjoyed a supberb spy thriller.

I am an aficionado of the corrida and, almost necessarily, loved this book. It is the best thing every written on the subject and, although I don't agree with Hemingway's every point, I still enjoy it. The book was written in 1930 and, even then, he decries a certain corruption in the spectacle. He maintains that the bulls have been bred down in size to make it easier for the matador to work and ultimately kill the bull. Maybe, although I haven't seen this tendency during my lifetime.

He also decries the fact that the emphasis is less and less on the killing as opposed to pageantry and hot-dogging [read Mitchener's "Mexico"]. There is some truth in this but, even back in 1930, Madrid was becoming a tourist mecca and, to a certain extent, the matadors were and are playing to unsophisticated audiences. On the other hand, my experience in less touristy areas has been the opposite. The kill, although not the total point of the fight, is definitely the most important part. Pity the poor matador who has a perfect fight only to have his sword, at the "moment of truth", glance off a rib. He won't get two ears and a tail. He'll be lucky if he gets one ear.

I think Hemingway should have more emphasized that the corrida is NOT a sport. It is a tragedy which appeals to the Spanish [and some non-Spanish]mind. It is not meant to be "fair" in the Anglo-Saxon sense of the word. A brave beast rages courageously only to be bloodied, broken and killed. The matador, on his part, needs to be just as brave. If you don't think so, just try to face a 1500 beast that wants to destroy you with a cape and a flimsy sword. To go to a bullfight hoping the matador will be knocked down and gored, would be like going to a ballet and hoping the prima ballerina fall on her face.

It is a deliberate tragedy where sometimes the dead bull gets a bigger hand than does the matador. It appealed to Hemingway's fatalism. Most of his stories, if you think about it, mirrored the corrida. "All true stories end in death." He said. If you read his tales most end with defeat and death. The Snows of Kilamanjaro, The Old Man and the Sea, The Short and Happy life of Francis MacComber, A Farewell to Arms, For Whom the Bell Tolls and many, many others. I wonder if he was thinking of the wounded bull when he loaded his shotgun that day...

Ron Braithwaite author of novels--"Skull Rack" and "Hummingbird God"--on the Spanish Conquest of Mexico

At the time that Hemingway wrote this book the rather exotic art of bullfighting was fairly unknown to English audiences. Hemingway almost single-handedly drove many expatriate Americans and Europeans of the `lost generation' to the corrida. Some of his novels and short stories also have the bullring as a backdrop. This book is an interesting combination of Hemingway's literary flair and a how to book on the art of bullfighting. The bullfight experience (watching, that is) became a mandatory exercise for later, mainly American, male writers and formed a rite of passage for manly writing. One thinks immediately of Norman Mailer but there were others.

Having watched a bullfight in Mexico I find it hard to see the interest that Hemingway and the others had in the sport. I do not care for prizefighting either. I will admit to having spent many a fruitless hour watching the 'bullpen' of the beloved home town Red Sox at Fenway Park blow a lead that would make any bull see red. On its own terms, Hemingway surely had more than an amateur interest in describing the ritual of the fight and grading the performances of man and beast. That part, in essence, the literary part is what held my interest. If one suspends a certain disbelief about the obvious surface brutality of the event and rather delves into the `man against nature' and `dancing with death' aspects that is where you will find Hemingway. Ole

For Ernest Hemingway, a fiesta wasn't a fiesta until someone got killed, preferably a 1,400-pound male bovine, horns dripping with horse blood, legs up in front of thousands of cheering Spaniards. That was the world of the bullfight, a world Hemingway discovered by accident while on a break from mingling with the Lost Generation in Paris, and made his own with the help of this book.

First published in 1932, "Death In The Afternoon" may be what separates Papa's truest fans from mere admirers like myself. Most people who value writing understand that Hemingway wrote very well, but many like me would go on to say we wish he spent less time on attitude and posturing and developed a surer sense of focus, in line with "The Sun Also Rises" and "In Our Time." But for those who drink and fish and grow white beards in emulation of their hero, "Death In The Afternoon" is THE book precisely because it so messily captures Hemingway's self-image of the macho artist.

"Death In The Afternoon" starts out with a rambling chapter that deals with American attitudes about bullfighting rather than the thing itself. It finishes with a self-indulgent one where he outlines all the things he left out as if giving a long-winded Oscar speech. In between is much to admire, for bullfighting aficionados and vegetarians alike, including some of the most arresting passages in American letters.

"Someone with English blood has written: 'Life is real; life is earnest, and the grave is not its goal,'" Hemingway writes. "And where did they bury him? and what became of the reality and the earnestness?"

Hemingway's theme, here and throughout the book, seems to be that death and suffering are the things of life, its essence and only ultimate truths. Only art lends them meaning. Of all art, Hemingway finds bullfighting the truest and most inspiring because of how close it is to the bone of the matter, to death, and how transitorily it is experienced. All art, even the most lasting, ultimately fades, but only in bullfighting is that impermanence accepted and understood.

Hard words, hard philosophy. But Hemingway works hard too at entertaining the reader, often quite successfully. He tells of one matador's farewell performance where he dedicates the killing of his last bull before the fact to first one, than another, and then a third person, so caught up is he in the moment and his own eloquence. There is an ongoing discussion with an old lady frankly curious about the sex habits of both bull and bull-killer. He extols Faulkner, has at Huxley, and fesses up to how he must come off: "The fellow is no philosopher, no savant, an incompetent zoologist, he drinks too much and cannot punctuate readily...He is bull crazy."

The book comes with a generous number of photographs with Hemingway-written captions that are works of art in miniature. Under a photo of a dead matador surrounded by people, he notes: "Only two in the crowd are thinking about Granero. The others are all intent on how they will look in the photograph."

I didn't really buy Hemingway's take on some things, especially the issue of the horses. He opposes padding their undersides to protect them from bull horns as it violates the aesthetic of the performance. Then he writes of how the picadors riding the horse will use the horse's horning as a way of artificially tiring the bull to give the matador an easier time. Doesn't padding then produce a better bullfight?

Hemingway also loses his train of thought, in ways that impair rather than enrich the reading experience. One moment he's talking about the handling of the muleta or the politics of the cuadrilla, the next he is talking about a pair of homosexuals or how langostinos are best enjoyed.

It's really about a man discovering a country he loves, and in that sense, the Spanish backdrop is the best thing about "Death In The Afternoon." It's a love letter with more than a touch of sadness; the Spain Hemingway knew was about to be lost, to civil war and Franco, for the rest of his lifetime. But nothing was forever to Hemingway. In the world of the bullring, he found the closest thing to perfection he could believe in. Believe it or not, you have to admire the result.

An epic tome on the art and grandeur of Spanish bullfighting from one of America's greatest aficionados, Ernest Hemingway, who explicates the craft and spiritual intensity of this ancient European ritual through terse, journalistic, prose and rigorous scholarship. Not surprisingly, Hemingway is not terribly perturbed by the grotesque barbarity of the violence of bullfighting; Hemingway was an enthusiast of hunting and had little to no moral qualms about killing animals (and sometimes people). Yet he is not totally insensitive, warning the reader that most spectators of bullfighting are normally disgusted by the killing of the horses more than anything else.

For Hemingway, the bullfight is not meant to be understood as an equal battle between man and beast. Rather, it is a tragedy, and the tragedy is for the bull who ought to be killed. He writes, "The best of all fighting bulls have a quality, called nobility by the Spanish, which is the most extraordinary part of the whole business" (113), yet Hemingway does not provide any comment on the utter absurdity of the whole business. Hemingway was a writer obsessed with, and in search of true courage in the face of natural danger and fate, and he found it most explicitly in war and in bullfighting.

However, some readers will be surprised to find that `Death in the Afternoon,' is not simply about bullfighting. Hemingway also expounds quite at length about his views on art and the craft of writing. He says: "When writing a novel, a writer should create living people; people not characters. A character is a caricature" (191). Unfortunately, Hem was never fully successful at creating a living woman, but every writer has a weakness. "A serious writer may be a hawk or a buzzard or even a popinjay, but a solemn writer is always a bloody owl" (192).

Also included in this altogether excellent volume is a collection of stunning photographs depicting various stages of the bullfight and various matadors of fame; there are also fascinating portraits of the running of the bulls in Pamplona (echoing those fabulous sequences in `The Sun also Rises'). Additionally, Hemingway has provided the reader with a detailed glossary of important bullfighting terms for true aficionados. Originally published through Scribner in 1932.

One thing that Hemingway clears up is that bullfighting is not a contest between man and beast. It is a tragedy; no matter if the bull succeeds in killing the matador, and all the picadors and bandierros for that matter, he will still be executed after the fight. This is pure art, and nothing more. I can't explain why to you, but Hemingway says that it is very Spanish, and to understand it you must understand the Spaniards.

This is just a general overview of bullfighting. The book is very descriptive and very much more worth your time. You will find that there is something of the bullfight and the muleta in all of us.

The three steps of the bullfight are clear and showcase the bull. (It is worth mentioning that these are not just any bulls: they are finely bred fighting bulls that are too agressive to be good for anything else.)

One: the bull shows his strength and bravery in the killing of the horses in the first stage with the picador. The picador pierced the muscle on his shoulder, therefore showing the bravery of the bull if he continues through the pain to gore the horse. After this stage, the dead horses are covered and the bandierros enter the ring.

Two: The bandierros use small spears with hooks on them so they stay in the bull's hide. They are 'set' in pairs in the large hump of agrivated muscle over the withers. These are used to raise the neck of the bull and therefore weakening it so the matador can do his work. In this stage the bull is confused: he cannot (if the man knows his work and is not unlucky) catch the man as he did in the last stage. His courage is useless.

Three: The matador enters the arena (or barrera, I believe...it's been a while) to finish the bull. At this stage, the bull is tired and his head is beginning to droop. His shoulders are covered in blood but he stands there arrogant. The matador cannot rise over the horns of the bull to kill in his origional condition; therefore, he must tire him over the course of the three stages. The matador does his part with the muleta (cape) and then kills the bull by stabbing him with a sword to his heart. It is here, Hemingway will tell you, that the bull is either said to be killed or assasinated. If the matador is competent, his body will come over the top of the horn. If the bull lifts his head, the matador is gored. Thus, in a proper kill, the bull in the end had a chance to kill again. If the matador pulls back at the last second and just stabs the animal without the threat, he is said to "assasinate."

This is excellent. Your friends might look at you a little funny for reading about "killing bulls" and not understand that it is...well, an ART. This is just plain wonderful. Hemingway again does a terriffic job, showing more of his journalistic side than in For Whom the Bell Tolls.

Excellent read, but not for everyone. Get it from the library and read the first few chapters. If you still feel sorry for the bulls after that, you're on your own.

I have had a difficult time deciding how many stars I should appoint to "The History of the Siege of Lisbon", and here's why--I found the following passage to be a pragmatic and insightful observation of human character:

"...We're positively mad, Do you mean us, No, I was referring to people in general, I'm one of those people who thinks that human beings have always been mentally deranged, As platitudes go, that isn't bad, Perhaps it will sound less like a platitude if I tell you that in my opinion madness is the result of the shock produced in man by his own intelligence and we still haven't recovered from the trauma three million years later..."

This is part of a conversation between the two main contemporary characters in the book, Raimundo Silva and Maria Sara, and no matter how many times I re-read it, ticking off sentence by sentence, I cannot tell who believes human beings to be mentally deranged, Raimundo Silva or Maria Sara. I suspect these words belong to Silva because they have a male arrogance about them, but that's not the point. These words could just as easily have come from Maria Sara. It is possible that Saramago meant for the reader to be confused, to show his characters becoming one mentally as well as physically, but I don't think so. I think that in the original Portuguese there is some gender inflection that casts this dialog in context.

Perhaps, perhaps not, but here's the rub: When an author abandons the norms of punctuation and structure in order to create a different ambience within the story, well, the story better work. This could be the most difficult book I have ever read. I am even thinking back to my days with Proust and Dostoevsky, and I think Saramago's got them beat. I experienced moments of sincere enjoyment, but these were few. For the most part this book was pure work, confusing and slow. But within the confused sentence structure I could sometimes sense a meter; I could detect an order and flow to the words and I found an irony there. Saramago's main character, a proof-reader, alters history by changing a single word in a historical text, launching a hidden narrative that reaches out from medieval times to connect with the present--islands in the stream of time. The continuity of timelessness is what Saramago represents with his run-on sentence structure, and his lines in the Portuguese must read with the beauty of verse. Alas, this beauty is lost in the English translation, like a crucial change in a historical account, creating a much different story, almost a mystery...interesting, now I must re-read the book. Brilliant! Five stars.

This was my first Saramago book. I read it in 2000, and I am still amazed by it. once you get pass the first few pages you'll get a feeling for the style of the book and you'll start enjoying it.

The story reminded me of something obvious about history: history, as we know it, is written by the winners. Losers do not have much to say when looking back to recollect what happened. The winner's biases are all over history books and the loser's perspective is lost in the way. The book is much more that that, there is a love story in the background, and there are beautiful descriptions of the city of Lisbon.

Readers of Saramago will recognize the protagonist of this disarmingly charming novel from his other work: a reclusive, shy, bachelor who works in a Kafkaesque world as an unseen, undistinguished clerk and who, one day, inexplicably does something that shatters the routine and frees him from the daily grind. In this story, Raimundo Silva is a proofreader and his act of rebellion is to insert a single word --"not"--into the manuscript on the history of the siege of Lisbon. Upon publication, the book states (incorrectly) that foreign crusaders did not help the Portuguese with the 12th-century siege that wrested Lisbon from the Moors.

From such seemingly trite and random events emanate massive life changes (and subversive comedies). When his publisher discovers the embarrassing and costly error, they hire a new boss to oversee the proofreaders. Instead of mistrusting her new charge, however, she is intrigued by his inexplicable act of subversiveness, and she subtly (well, not that subtly) recommends that he write his own book, an entry in the genre of alternative history: what would have happened if the Crusaders had indeed turned down King Afonso's request for aid? Silva takes up the challenge, and the remainder of the Saramago's novel alternates (often within the same sentence) between Silva's imaginary book and his subsequent life in Lisbon.

At the most obvious level, Saramago is commenting on the tension between historiography and history, between fiction and veracity. Furthermore, there are many parallels--in themes, in characters, in style, in plot--between this book and Saramago's later novel, "All the Names." And, as always, the author's snakelike, page-long sentences demand much from the reader even as they offer insight, beauty, wit, and comedy.

What's unexpected here, however, is the depth of the twin love stories that develop in both the novel and the novel-within-the-novel. "I don't know how people loved at that time," confesses Silva to his own new love about the challenge of writing his book. Her advice: "Invent a love story without any amorous words, . . . assuming such a thing is possible." But his confession and her response are not only about the historical work at hand; they also serve as veiled remarks about the couple's own nascent relationship. In addition to questioning the very nature of how we conceive and recall history, Saramago's novel teases out the human passions behind the parade of names and events selected for the official versions in the chronicles.

After reading The year of the death of Ricardo Reis a book I thought was one of the best ever written and Blindness (not quite the best book ever written) I thought by buying this I was in for a good read...wrong!

Jose Saramago continues his bizarre obsession with young women being attracted to decrepid old men (as he does in all his books) The story is thin, uninteresting and leads nowhere and the siege (read massacre) of the Muslims of Lisbon by the 'brave' crusader knights seems to have little to do with the plot apart from add a little sexual sleeze (the gang rape of a Arab woman by crusader knights) and some ill placed Portuguese nationalism.

A man no longer needs a woman. He has his work. And he has the prostitutes downtown. He is too old. He is too conservative. He is content to live his life through the books he proofreads.

In a process of professional malpractice he alters history and encounters a love he never expected.

In 'The History of the Seige of Lisbon,' Saramago has created an epic love story. Where many love stories stumble over cliches of plot and word, 'The History' is about the emotions, confusions, and distractions of new love: the angst of imagining our objet with another, the pain of waiting for the phone to ring, and the primal need to distract ourselves from obsessing on our own vices and virtues.

Conventional prose fails to capture these emotions. Saramago give us something else.

Saramago reveals the intimacy of all our relationships --with others, with places, and with history. His description of Lisbon isn't that of a travel guide but of an intimate. His retelling of the crusader's seige of Lisbon shows the patience and care of a father rather than the reserved impartiality of an academic.

Not since Mordecai Richler's 'Barney's Version' have I read such a brilliant story that reveals a love for person, place, and time.

This book got the "usted" verbs wrong starting on page 42. For example, "you speak" is supposed to be "usted hablas", not "usted habla". "el/ella habla" means "he/she speaks". Otherwise, this book is OK for tourists who hadn't studied Spanish before. For the "Spanish veteran" who wants a review, you might want to try Ultimate Spanish by Living Language, Rosetta Stone, or better yet, take a college Spanish class.

For those with basic but not great Spanish skills, this was a great book for refreshing your vocabulary for basic things you may need for travel. I'm sure my grammar is horrible and this book certainly did not focus of ensuring I spoke in the correct verb tense all the time, but it did enable me to communicate and transact basic needs , such as checking into a hotel, ordering at a restaurant, or getting directions. Hey, I'm just a gringo trying to show the decency and respect to speak a little bit of the language when traveling; for this purpose, this is an excellent resource.

The seller misrepresented this workbook, and I was quite disappointed when I got it. It was advertised as being in excellent condition, and all of the flash cards were torn out of the back.

I first checked this book out from the library. It is so good , I purchased a copy from Amazon. This book has the normal words used everyday. It is easy to follow and you do it at you own pace. You are learning how to speak in easy short sentences. It has flash cards that speed up the learning process. Of all the reference books I have, this is the one I pick up first. This book will be great if you are going on vacation and only need to know certain things :)

This text is either for the very beginning beginner or a good review for the person who has been away from Spanish for a time.
It is done in a logical manner and in workbook form. It has stickers for nouns and cutouts for flashcards of the important beginning vocabulary in the book. It is fun to do and quick to finish.

"Iberia" is an amazing book. I can't believe that a person could research and write this book and get anything else done in one lifetime. It is a great book to read immediately before or immediately after a trip to Spain. Michener's enthusiasm for his subject is quite evident as he discusses nearly every imaginable aspect of Spain.

Make no mistake, this book represents a reading challenge. In the paperback version it is over 900 pages long and covers such a wide variety of subjects related to Spain that there is probably something to interest most readers. However, there is probably something to bore most readers as well.

I enjoyed Michener's personal travel anecdotes and his reviews of European history the most. Michener's reviews of paintings and sculptures go on at great length at times, but would probably be fantastic for someone who is more of an art aficionado than I.

The book was published in 1968 so it is a bit dated, but it is still a great review of all things pertaining to Spain.

As usual , James Michener narrative about Spain is very nice and worth reading to anybody, specially individuals who are planning to visit in the near future

Written in 1968 this is a non-fictional account of James Michener's travels throughout Spain during his lifetime. He includes much history, local culture, tradition, and insight into this somewhat enigmatic country. Still relevant, but if you'd like to complement this book with a more recent follow-up, I would suggest Ghosts of Spain by Giles Tremlett, but first read Michener if you want to get some great comprehensive background. The two in fact complement each other.

IBERIA is non-fiction memoir of Michener's experiences in Spain. I read the book before I went to Spain and found that Michener was right. He said Spain haunts people who go there. I've been all over the world and Spain is the only place that haunts me in a delicious way.

Spain likely was the heart and soul of Imperial Rome.

IBERIA is a splendid tale about a splendid place.

This book is a rambling, dated, starry-eyed tourist's view of Spain. For a cultural guide or a historical record, try Ghosts of Spain: Travels Through Spain and Its Silent Past or The Buried Mirror: Reflections on Spain and the New World. If you must buy it, get some tissues -- you'll be bored to tears.

The skill of this author as a storyteller is unparalleled, its like watching a movie not reading a book. As for the critics claiming the lack of referencing, yes, you might be correct, but I double-checked several doubtful historic facts and they are all accurate.

Hatem A Tawfik, MD
Cairo Egypt

This book offers a unique look at what lead up to the year 1492, according to the author, and in my opinion too one of the most important years in our history. The unique part is because the author looks at this history more through the eyes of the Muslims, who civalization before 1492 was an amazing and advanced civalization, really the golden age of Islam civilization. I do think though that the author spend too much time being pro-islam and forgets about the Christian side as well, it would have been nice to see both sides of the conflict. I like how the author compares the downfall of the moorish civilization, and the reconquista. I would also have liked if the author spent more time actually talking about the year 1492, and less about what lead up to it. Over all a very well written book.

I picked up this book to learn more about the Inquisition because lately the concept of religious persecution in Europe has been on my mind. The book had a broader scope which was partially satisfying.

The author's apparent thesis is to show the inter-play between the simultaneous events of the
Inquisition, the defeat of the Moors and the voyage of Columbus. I believe the author succeed in showing the relation between the Inquisition and the war. But not the interplay with Columbus's voyage.

While the Inquisition had a life of its own fueled by the radical piety of Isabella it was also used to fund the war through confiscation of property from wealthy Jewish converts to Christianity followed closely by confiscations from all Jews. The author made this point nicely.

However, the relationship of Columbus's voyage to either the war or the inquisition was not as clear. Yes, the voyage was also supported by the religious zeal of Isabella and the voyage was postponed until the war was over but no other significant interplay between the events was explored.

The format is a light narrative style built around the lives of the principal players. I generally enjoy this format but with three simultaneous plots and so many players I found it a bit hard to get into the flow of the characters and the book until the final third.

I did not learn as much about the actual Inquisition as I had hoped. But understanding how Ferdinand used the Inquisition and religious persecution of Jews to balance his war budget was invaluable.

For this alone I would recommend the book.

A smoothly written summary focusing on events in late 15th century Catholic Spain, but touching also on political intrigue in Portugal, the Vatican, among the defeated Moors, and elsewhere. The Inquisition, the expulsion of the Jews, and Columbus' at times clumsy efforts to win support for his initial voyage West are covered in some detail. This book is not intended for the historically learned or professional scholar. Rather, it is an agreeable tour through a fascinating and significant era in European history. I recommend it to lay readers who enjoy history while also taking pleasure in a well told story.

This book is nicely written - compelling enough to keep one turning the pages. If one reads it as a work of historical fiction, the this book is quite enjoyable.

I'm no historian (that's why I purchased the book, after all), but I immediately sensed the author's factual transgressions and wayward perspectives. One need not be an historian, however, to note the one-sidedness here. I couldn't think of a concise way to sum up these shortcomings; and then I read the previous reviews: Journalist.

So what we have here is not a thoroughly researched, thought out, analytical account of an historical event. Then again, should one expect such writing from a journalist? William Shirer (Rise & Fall of the 3rd Reich)set the bar pretty high. He did have an advantage - having lived through the historical event in his book. So, I'm willing to cut Reston some slack. But without setting the bar as high as Shirer, Reston still falls far short of my humble standard for history books.

Would recommend the book. But don't go around quoting it among history scholars - unless, that is, you want to be confused by the facts.

I am of Spanish descent and I have read many books on Spain, but none as comprehensive as this one. It is easy to read, easy to follow and concise. I would highly recommend it to those who wish a very good short version of Spain's history. It informs the reader with all he needs to know about the history of this fascinating country and its people.
Lillian Mejia Martin

This book is a very interesting general history of Spain and its history. The book traces chronologically the development of Spain from its prehistoric origins to the present day. The most fascinating section is when the author deals with the Recoquista, the 800 year long struggle by Christians to win Spain back from Moorish occupation. In addition, the book deals with the peaceful co-existance of three cultures, Jewish, Moorish and Christian, that existed in Spain for some two hundred years. This culture cooperation was one of the high points of Spanish culture and civilization. With the unity of Catholic Spain, this cultural tolerance disappeared. The author deals with the cruelty of the Spanish Civil War in a very objective and clear fashion. This book is an excellent introduction for any student or tourist who wants to visit this amazingly diverse country.

While visiting Spain with my wife we bought this book in Seville. I enjoyed every part of it especially the end of each chapter which holds a list of the monuments relevant to the history of that chapter. I took it on a trip to Spain with my wife and it made the trip magical.

This book reviews the history of Spain from the Romans to nowadays. In his witty account, the author goes on to reveal the love, and bed affairs of kings that you wouldn't see in your censored Spanish history textbook.
For once I discovered that the world Spain comes from the Phoenician world Hispalis, 'the land of the rabbits' and that the soccer fervor that lives through Spain has its origins in the likes of Franco.
I am Spanish and learned from this book more than from all my Spanish history classes. I finally got to read about the Spanish Civil war, which was always in the last chapter of the history book and, mysteriously we never had time to cover during class (I went to a catholic school)

Many ides on this book reminded me of the 'Da Vince Code', I wonder if Dan Brown also bought the book in the cathedral of Seville while visiting there?

This book is a shocking fabrication of the authors fantasy. Sweeping statements presented as fact. Enourmous errors of history. A very badly written paper, giving no explanation of the sources of information. Huge chunks of fabricated ideas and story, the authors opinion of circumstance is vastly personal and reveals what I can only discribe as an ignorant inward looking racist american, with no true grip on the affairs of spain! How did this book get published? "Golden Era Books" clearly is not a seat of academic acclaim. I am genuinely shocked. This book reads more like a tabloid newspaper scandal than a factual history of Spain. Dont buy this book.

Is there substance? Yes, not a lot, but there is a brief overview of history here.

Is there fluff? Oh hell yes and way too much of it. There are just way too many asides and way too much focus on kings rather than conditions. For example, he explains that Caesar may have had a homosexual escapade in Spain. NOT PERTINENT and a little offensive to boot. Remove such things and you have about 50 pages of worthy reading and I have to question some of his findings in those 50.

He goes to great lengths to brush over Spanish atrocities in the New World and at Home, claiming they are basically English racism towards the Spanish designed as a PR campaign against. I have no doubt that such existed as the two countries have long had problems, but that doesn't mean the Spanish Conquistadors weren't brutal (and downright evil at times). And the Inquisition should never have detractors. The most telling moment of the book happens, after detailing this "racism", he then goes on another aside to tell how the Irish sold out the Spanish for a bottle of whisky. Holy crap is that the pot calling the kettle black and how any editor would let that slip through, calls into question the entire book. So I learned a little from it, but it's not worth your effort. Seek other books.