Reviews

Like a Fading Shadow by Antonio Muñoz Molina

penelope_ausejo's review against another edition

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2.0

A ratos entretenido y a ratos pesado. No me ha gustado.

sidharthvardhan's review against another edition

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2.0

The book really a memoir and a historical fiction combined. The memoir part has a few beautiful parts but historical novel part is just forgettable.

dominika_zimny's review against another edition

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3.0

3,5/5

janineg's review against another edition

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4.5

the book I bought in Porto. this book was really good, thought provoking, and told an important story. I liked how it switched from 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person and also how the story was a biography and a history book at the same time. it got slow at times but I enjoyed how it talked about Lisbon and Madrid and Spain and that part made me happy. I didn’t like the end because it switched to MLKs perspective after talking in JER perspective the whole time. It also tried to comment on social justice and racism in America but the author is Spanish so it didn’t quite work. 

pearloz's review against another edition

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DNF--just could not get into it.

dvalk's review against another edition

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dark mysterious reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

In Like a Fading Shadow Antionio Muñoz Molina puts himself in the mind of Martin Luther King's killer, James Earl Ray. He interweaves the story of of Ray's time in Lisbon with memories of his own stay in the city in the 80s when he was writing Winter in Lisbon. 

The atmosphere Molina creates is immersive. When I read, I felt I had put on a pair of noise canceling headphones and removed myself from the world - a bit like Molina's description of movie theatres vs. tvs "One goes into a movie theater to cease to exist. It is because of that, not the size or quality of the image, that something crucial is lost when a film is experienced on a television set, in the domestic light of one's home, in the calcareous shell of one's identity. "

I was struck by this section about a sound technician who recalled a time accompanying jazz musicians to Florence years ago. The time was formless and he ended up having a panic attack. Molina writes, "There was no trace of temporary amnesia the next morning. He told me he was relieved but also disappointed. Once again, the day and the month and the year and the hour and his name and his job and his past - all occupied precise locations, like elements in the periodic table, within the compartments of time. He decided it was as time to return to Granada; he had already spent plenty of money and could not continue neglecting his family. Now many months later, he missed the winter in Florence, that winter without dates when he had lived in another country. 'And now back to this,' he said involuntarily throwing his hands in the air" This section brought to mind the many lockdowns of covid - times without dates, identities without precise locations - there is something terrifying and freeing about that.

I found this to be a very quiet book - actions are described, the characters do things, but it is wrapped in the thick rumination of Molina, Ray, and King. These are thoughts of insecure, paranoid, or self-pitying men. They can be difficult to read at times, for example when Molina remembers how badly he treated his wife (now ex) in the 1980s. She had just had their second child, but he bristled at his responsibilities to her and his child and went to Lisbon without a thought. I can't say I enjoyed my time in the heads of these men, but I didn't want to put the book down.

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thepoisonwoodreader's review

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challenging reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Plot
  • Strong character development? No
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

daniel_og13's review against another edition

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3.0

Es increíble cómo hay temas inagotables, y que dadas las cualidades de cada autor, pueden ser abordados de maneras siempre novedosas. En el caso de Como la sombra que se va, me refiero al oficio de la escritura.
Comencé a leer esta novela sin saber de qué trataba, sino sólo por la admiración que me provocó Antonio tras leer La noche de los tiempos. Y no me ha decepcionado con su habilidad e ingenio. Sin embargo, ya luego me fui enterando que trata sobre el asesino del Dr. Martin Luther King jr. y a decir verdad mi interés sufrió notoriamente cuando me di cuenta. No es que tenga antipatía por el defensor de los derechos civiles, pero tampoco simpatía.
En fin, la novela se disfruta nada más que por que Antonio se sabe muy bien el oficio, y da cátedra al respecto.

soavezefiretto's review against another edition

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4.0

Is it riveting? No. Does the narrative have an easy to follow structure? No. Is the protagonist easy to identify with? A world of no. What makes this book, like many of Muñoz Molina's books, are the moods, the textures. It's boring for stretches because he's describing a boring mind being bored, but the way he does it is quite masterful. And the parts about him as a young man writing the novel that would bring him success while quite callously ignoring his wife and children is so poignant, but never self-indulgent. I can't help myself, I love this writer and everything he writes. I'm not objective. Deal with it.

jacob_wren's review against another edition

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5.0

Antonio Muñoz Molina writes:

A novel is a state of mind, a warm interior where you seek refuge as you write, a cocoon that is woven from the inside, locking you within it, showing you the world outside through its translucent concavity. A novel is a confession and a hideout. The novel and the particular state of mind in which you must submerge yourself to write it feed each other, a unique wavelength, a song that you hear in the distance and try to identify through the act of writing.

The state of mind is born with the novel and ends with it. It is a house that feels like your own but where you will never live again, a music that will cease to exist when you stop playing. The book will remain, of course, the printed word, like a recording, but the product will begin to feel alien, and a painful emptiness will weigh over you for some time, as if you had been conned.