The Shadow of the Wind is an Amazing Novel

The Shadow of the Wind (2001)

By Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Penguin, 565 pages.

★★★★★

Looking for a great novel? How about a story that features passion, tragic love, war, revenge, subterfuge, fire, madness, vengeful devils, soiled avenging angels, social class tension, and Victor Hugo’s pen? It even comes with its own walking map of Barcelona for those wishing to match story to the street. Do I have your attention?

I recently revisited Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s The Shadow of the Wind, which I read about 15 years ago without realizing that it’s the first book of a trilogy. I tracked down the next two volumes in a used bookstore, but wisely decided first to re-read The Shadow of the Wind. What a book!

It opens shortly after the Spanish Civil War (1936-39), a conflict often viewed as a dress rehearsal for World War II. Alas, it ended in the deaths of nearly 2 million, the destruction of the democratic Spanish Republic, and the installation of a fascist dictatorship headed by Francisco Franco that endured until 1975. Young Daniel Sempere and his father run a small bookshop with the help of Fermin Romero de Torre, an unforgettable character who has a shadowy past and is equal parts rogue, trickster, horndog, and mentor to Daniel. Like Fermin, everything is shadowy in Franco’s Barcelona, a hotbed of anti-Franco resistance both during and after the civil war.

Our mystery begins when Daniel’s father takes him to the secretive Cemetery of Forgotten Books, a repository of works few (or none) have ever read. Every reader conjures different images of what it’s like; mine is analogous to an M. C. Escher labyrinth. Daniel is told that he can remove any volume he wishes, and he selects Shadow of the Wind by Julian Carax. Daniel is more than enthralled and sets out to find other Carax titles. They seem to have vanished, though the wealthy Gustavo Barcelo offers him a small fortune for his copy of Shadow of the Wind. Although Barcelo’s blind niece Clara is Daniel’s unrequited crush, he declines Barcelo’s offer and embarks on a labored effort to unravel the story of Carax’s life. Two sinister characters loom ominously over Daniel’s efforts: police inspector Francisco Javier Fumero, a sadistic, amoral monster; and Lain Coubert, a frightful-looking man with scorched lips, fiery red skin, no eye lids, and a melted face. Both give Daniel the same advice: forget about Julian Carax. This is all the creepier given that Daniel knows that Lain Coubert is the name given to the Devil in Carax’s Shadow of the Wind.

This is a terrific setup for a novel whose mystery takes us back to both 1919 and the Spanish Civil War, forward to World War II, and advances again to 1956 and 1966. As such it also a coming-of-age novel that eventually deposits us in Daniel’s forties. As young Daniel probes deeper into what happened to Carax and his books, he discovers that the bits and pieces don’t seem to fit the official story.

All of this is made more compelling though secondary characters of depth and memorable circumstance: Don Ricardo Aldaya, an imperious and snobbish rich businessman; his angry n’er-do-well son Jorge; their dying former governess Jacinta Coronado; and Nuria Montfort, the estranged daughter of the keeper of the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, whom we meet in a loveless marriage to Miquel Moliner, and once was one of Julian’s lovers. Above all there is Fermin, who is a force of nature who will make you laugh, cringe, marvel, and fear for his safety. Ruiz Zafon also makes us care about a character that isn’t even present: Penelope Aldaya, Don Ricardo’s daughter.

As Daniel moves through his teens and tries to woo Beatriz Aguilar, his best friend’s sister, but is decidedly above Daniel’s class rank, The Shadow of the Wind also begins to suggest a history-repeats-itself story. I shall say only that Ruiz Zafon is a skillful writer who knows how to close the circle without resorting to the obvious. Pay attention to the book’s “shadows;” what happens on the fringes is often more important than what takes place in the light of day. Note also how the very identity of a “shadow” shifts. On occasion, it’s not even a person.

At times the book will remind you of Greek mythology–Penelope’s name isn’t coincidental–but it also has elements of Great Expectations, Don Quixote, Victor Hugo, Umberto Eco, Gothic novels and caper films. It is unabashedly anti-modern in its disdain for mid-20^th century technology (such as television) and you don’t need a course in Spanish history to know that Ruiz Zafon deplored Francoism.

One can debate what qualifies as literature–­as opposed to simply “fiction”–but I doubt that anyone would argue that The Shadow of the Wind is not a serious work. Stay tuned as I dive into the remaining books of the trilogy.

By the way, the Cemetery of Forgotten Books does not really exist. It should, it should!

Rob Weir

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