The novel is a confessional of sorts to the main character's grandson. Violeta is not an easy character to like. She does a lot of bad even when she seems aware of it but she also experiences a lot of pain. 

"I chose not to see, hear, or speak up during the most critical years. I'd surely have continued on in the same way straight through the dictatorship if the iron fist of oppression hadn't dealt me a direct blow."
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Structured like a memoir, the book takes us through generations and across countries as Violeta grows from a child to a centenarian and becomes witness to changes in political and sociocultural landscapes. These are captured as letters to her grandson, Camilo.  The upheavals and unrest are framed from an upper class perspective but the progression allows for development and a shift of stance and beliefs.

Offhand, I once wondered why historical fiction are almost always told in a middle-upper income lens. I know now that if it is the voice of the poor, the pages may end under 50 as they are most often the first targets of violence.

This is by no means meant to be a seriously critical or detailed review, nor is it really meant to be graceful, but I want to leave my thoughts and reactions for my own personal literary history, especially concerning Allende’s Violeta.

And, boy, am I glad to be finished with this book.

The story follows Violeta del Valle, a woman born in an unnamed South American country in 1920 during the Spanish Influenza, who is writing and recounting the phases of her life in the form of a letter to her grandson, Camilo. In her present-day— the year 2020 during coronavirus—, Violeta is 100 years old and wants to leave behind her story that it might not be erased/forgotten by her death.

I was very intrigued and excited to read this book, just based off of the autobiographical qualities indicated by the premise of the book. I enjoy reading about people recounting their lives, their joys, grieving, confusions and misgivings, their passions and strengths, their failures.

This book kind of does that (in a way? if I’m being generous) but it is so incessantly lifeless. Character development felt completely missing from me, and I felt no connection to any of the characters. For a moment, I considered that maybe that was Allende’s aim, was to establish an extreme and extensive anonymity throughout the entire structure of the story, but good God was it boring.

I feel truly disappointed and sad to even be writing this, especially because it has so many encouraging and gleaming reviews from other readers— I was hoping to be among them. But, the only thing that even motivated me to finish this book was my pride. I have a goal to read a certain number of books by the end of this year. And I hate to say, I’m very disheartened that I spent time reading this one.

I’m just relieved it’s over, truthfully.

The final nail in the coffin is that this is my first time reading Allende’s work, and now I’m skittish to read any other (joking, but serious lol). 

Humbly and desperately asking for any better recommendations by Allende than this one. I know Allende is a skillful writer in her own right, but something happened with this book that I’m hoping an older work might redeem.