A man (a vain, selfish, cocaine-addicted porn star) is severely burned in a car crash. While in hospital, his new life in his new body seems meaningless to him, so he spends most of his time planning his suicide, once he is released. He is befriended by a woman who tells him stories – among others, the story of how he and she were lovers back in the 14th century. While he thinks she’s obviously deranged, he also enjoys her company. Romantic love ensues.
The story and the short stories inside it are perhaps not thrilling but more than enough to keep reading. The main story line doesn’t have much point to it – nothing particularly interesting happens – other than to trying to prove that a woman can change a man as long as she loves him strongly and deeply enough. The idea would sit well in a romance book but for a book with literary ambitions it is pretty silly.
The 14th century story is much more interesting, as are the short stories – at least stuff happens – even though they also suffer from an overly romantic world view. Salvation through suffering is a recurring theme – dying for your love somehow makes that love worth more.
The whole thing leaves a poor impression. The main character’s emotional development seems quite unrealistic to me, as does the description of the relationship between him and the maybe-crazy woman. They don’t do anything much together; she does her stuff, he reads books, and she helps bathe and exercise his damaged body. And finally a sappy ending.
A mediocre book – OK to read on a long flight and leave at the airport when you get there; not worth keeping in your bookshelf.
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