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"Berta Isla thought she knew what to expect from life. When she was a young girl she decided she had found her match in Tomás Nevinson--the dashing half-Spanish, half-English boy in her class with an extraordinary gift for languages--so she was even able to endure their time apart while Tomás studied at Oxford. But after his graduation, he returns to Madrid a changed man. Distracted, sullen, and anxious, Berta's new husband has become a stranger to her, and she begins to suspect that his mysterious job at the Foreign Office is responsible. But it's more than just that: Tomás has unwittingly set in motion events that will derail forever the life they had planned. With unerring insight into the most shadowed corners of the human soul, Marías plunges the reader into the growing chasm between Berta and Tomás and the decisions that irreversibly change the course of the couple's fate. Berta Isla is a novel of love and truth, fear and secrecy, and the destinies we bring upon ourselves"--… (more)
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And it's also classic Marías, taking us though a rich landscape of obscure corners of modern history, word-games, philosophical digressions, doorbell-scenes, B-movie references, a famous Oxford policeman, sex, some minor characters from earlier books, and more literary texts than you can shake a stick at: apart from a book-length riff on T.S. Eliot's "Little Gidding", a seminar-level discussion of a couple of scenes from Henry V, there's a comprehensive quick-fire anthology of "recalled to life" texts taking us from Martin Guerre and Colonel Chabert right through to the opening of A Tale of Two Cities on which the book ends. No time for nodding off in the back row!
I think this is possibly Marías's best to date, certainly at least on a par with the Trilogy. But then I always seem to think that when I've just finished one of his novels, no matter what order I read them in. In any case, Berta is interesting as a character and felt like a more convincing and more rounded female narrator than María in Los enamoramientos, and she made a refreshing change from the oversexed Juan who narrates Así empieza lo malo. But he wouldn't be Marías if he didn't tease the critics by killing off a female character in the first 100 pages...