Beautiful.

Her prose is beautiful, but her meandering style made it tough for me to follow. Many times I would have to go back and re-read a bit so I wouldn't feel as though I were lost and missed something.

Con bella prosa Allende nos cuenta la historia de sus varios países inventados. Ve profundamente hacia el alma de las culturas que ha conocido sin juzgar y dice su verdad. No siempre estaba de acuerdo con todo lo que decía, pero sentí que entendí mejor la gente de varios países después de leer este libro.

Audio
I really liked this. It’s the closest memoir I’ve found to Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, which I loved; it makes a foreign place come alive through one of its more famous former citizens.
I got a lot of thought out of her brief but profound distinction between an exile and an immigrant.

An interesting personal account of Chile, as told by Isabel Allende - looking back on her own unique experiences growing up and then moving away after Pinochet seized power, and her overall experiences with the culture and history as it has impacted her personally. As a non-fiction work by a primarily fiction writer, it’s very well-written and more lyrical than the average travelogue. She admits she’s embellished and exaggerated and over-romanticized her nostalgic portrayal of what the country means to her… but maybe it’s better that way. And using the country as a form for an indirect memoir, it works. Some highlights:

“[My grandfather] always said that just as Romans live among ruins and fountains without seeing them, we Chileans live in the most dazzling country on the planet without appreciating it.”

“To see my country with the heart, one must read Pablo Neruda, the national poet who in his verses immortalized the imposing landscapes, the aromas and dawns, the tenacious rain and dignified poverty, the stoicism and the hospitality, of Chile.”

“Although because of the length of our narrow country we are separated by thousands of kilometers, we are tenaciously alike; we talk the same tongue and share similar customs. The only exceptions are the upper class, which has descended with little distraction from Europeans, and the Indians—the Aymaras and a few Quechuas in the north and the Mapuches in the south—who fight to maintain their identities in a world where there is constantly less space for them.”

“According to the World Bank, Chile is one of the countries with the worst distribution of income, right alongside Kenya and Zimbabwe.”

“Since 1973, the year of the military coup that changed so many things, situating has become a little more complex because in the first three minutes of conversation you also have to guess whether the person you’re speaking to was for or against the dictatorship. Today very few confess they were in favor, but even so it’s a good idea to establish a political orientation before you express extreme opinions. The same is true among Chileans who live outside the country, where the obligatory question is, When did you leave? If he, or she, says before 1973, it means that person is a rightist and was fleeing Allende’s socialism; if he left between 1973 and 1978, you can be sure he is a political refugee; but any time after that, and she may be an “economic exile,” which is how those who left Chile looking for job opportunities are qualified. It is more difficult to place those who stayed in Chile, partly because those individuals learned to keep their opinions to themselves.”

“To begin with, a woman’s work or intellect isn’t respected; we must work twice as hard as any man to earn half the recognition. Don’t even mention the field of literature! But we’re not going to talk about that, because it’s bad for my blood pressure.”

“I have not succeeded in completely shaking free of religion, and when I’m faced with any difficulty, the first thing that occurs to me is to pray, just in case, which is what all Chileans do, even atheists . . . forgive me, agnostics.”

“There was a time, somewhere between infancy and the age of fifteen, when I nursed the fantasy of being a nun as a way of disguising the fact that I most surely was not going to find a husband, and to this day I haven’t completely discarded that fancy. I am still assailed by the temptation to end my days in poverty, silence, and solitude in a Benedictine order or a Buddhist convent. Theological subtleties are not what count with me, what I like is the lifestyle. Despite my unconquerable frivolity, the monastic life attracts me.”

“I suppose there are people who do plan their lives, but I stopped doing that a long time ago because my blueprints never get used. About every ten years I take a look back and can see the map of my journey—well, that is if it can be called a map, it looks more like a plateful of noodles. If you live long enough to review the past, it’s obvious that all we do is walk in circles.”

“This happens with many events and anecdotes in my life: it seems I have lived them, but when I write them down in the clear light of logic, they seem unlikely. That really doesn’t disturb me, however. What does it matter if these events happened or if I imagined them? Life is, after all, a dream.”

— My Invented Country: A Nostalgic Journey Through Chile by Isabel Allende
https://a.co/iGyiYlf