It's ever so slightly embarrassing to be sitting across from someone (say, on a date or something) and when they ask if you've read anything good lately, you have no choice by to say, "Yes, I'm reading The History of Love." Oh, that's not exactly a loaded statement for a second date now, is it?
But this book is not like that. Not what you're thinking it's about anyhow, considering the title. Yes, it's about love. But more, the search for it, over time, over lands, over generations. It's not a love story like you'd imagine it to be. It's not a jilted affair, or a Romeo/Juliet type showdown.
The story revolves around many people, including a 14-year old girl who is trying to find the story of her name, and an old man who is trying to reconnect with his son, who may or may not know he exists. Everyone is searching for love. Everyone is working against a current that is paralleled to someone else's current, which in the end, enables them to all flow in with the tide at the exact same time. Excuse the metaphor, but it's true.
I began this book with hesitation, because the style of writing is so distinct, it's almost forced. It feels formulaic at the beginning, such "signature writing" that you can't help but wonder if the writer is more concerned that you remember her style than you do the characters.
But, like always, I kept with it. And, like always, a transition happened, and suddenly I realized I was holding in my hands more than a book; it was a true gem. It was magical. The style loosened, the voice developed, the characters became passionate, dedicated, loyal beings with a push and pull I couldn't help but immerse myself in.
It's a magical book.
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