The Prisoner of Heaven by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

This is the third volume in the "Cemetery of Lost Books" series, and it felt less like a proper novel and more like a prelude to the fourth book. There is no plot to speak of -- the mysterious event that precipitates the action simply leads to an extended flashback that fleshes out some details from the previous books and makes more explicit the connection between the two protagonists.  Back in the present, a very short investigation leads to an abrupt and unsatisfactory conclusion, which presumably sets up the fourth novel.  There's nonsense about a romantic subplot that's just an excuse for some machismo, and that's about it. And no, the icky situation from the end of the second book is not mentioned.  (Perhaps it has not happened yet?  Or is a delusion?)

The lack of story also means there is a lack of the atmosphere Ruiz Zafón is so good at.  The characters, as usual, are likeable or interesting, but this was just a wisp of a book.  I hope the promised fourth volume will bring this all together.

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

This is the first book in Ruiz Zafón's Cemetery of Forgotten Books series, which I recently re-read in preparation for the third.  Like The Angel's Game, this is Gothic in tone, but more romantic tragedy than tragic horror.  The protagonist, David, is the son of a character in the second book, and on his first expedition to the Cemetery he discovers the book The Shadow of the Wind (see what Ruiz Zafón did there?).  When he tries to find other books by the author, he discovers not only that very little is known about him, but also that someone has been systematically destroying his books.

As I've written before, Ruiz Zafón excels at creating atmosphere, and this is no exception.  Moreover, the eventual solution to the central mystery is satisfying, melodramatic (in a good way), and plausible (an underrated quality in this genre).  My only quibble with this book, and the second, is the female characters, almost all of whom are weak in one way or another -- either dominated by their worst qualities, or powerless in the face of a dangerous or inappropriate passion.  Some of this is attributable to the setting.  Even today, there is a surprising amount of sexism in Spain, and Ruiz Zafón is sensitive to the lack of power and agency most women had at the turn of the century.  These women are at the mercy of their fathers, brothers, and husbands, and have little to do except get married and have children.  Still, it would have been nice to see a woman find a way to rise above her circumstances, or find some sense of purpose in them, or even demonstrate dignity in the face of them. (There is one notable exception, but she suffers the fate of many idealized women -- tragic early death from illness.)

On to the third volume!

The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

The Angel's Game is the second novel in Ruiz Zafón's Cemetery of Forgotten Books.  The Cemetery itself (as intriguing as it is) does not have much of a role in the books, serving instead as an impetus that gets the plot moving.  In this case, David Martín, a frustrated but ambitious writer, has made a Fausian bargain to write a dangerous book in exchange for wealth and health.  A trip to the Cemetery leads him to discover a book written under similar circumstances, and he becomes obsessed with discovering his predecessor's fate.

Ruiz Zafón's talent is in atmosphere, the way he writes about the sights, sounds, and feel of 1920's Barcelona, resulting in genuine Gothic horror -- a sub-genre I consider hard to pull off in a century saturated with irony, skepticism, and (supposed) sophistication.  I found Ann Radcliffe's Mysteries of Udolpho to be melodramatic and silly when I read it way back in college (I am not immune to today's irony and skepticism), but The Angel's Game is genuinely dark and eerie and kinda scary, and Martín a disturbing and unreliable narrator.

My one complaint is with the coda -- a turn of events that is creepy (as expected) but could also be read as profoundly icky and perverted, and not in a good way.  The problem is that it is just ambiguous enough that I don't know what Ruiz Zafón's intent is; the fact that the third novel in the series apparently reveals Martín to be delusional doesn't help.  Other parts of the plot, of course, remained unexplained and uncertain, as is appropriate to the genre, but the particular details of this event make it yucky, not enjoyable.  Maybe The Prisoner of Heaven will resolve it for me.

I'm rereading (really, skimming) the first novel, The Shadow of the Wind, before picking up the third, which apparently ties the two together.