I haven't had a book haunt me in a long time. But I've got one going now.
The Flamenco Academy by Sarah Bird.
Picked it up at the library in the new fiction section. In fact I didn't even find it, my partner did. He handed it to me saying, "it's set in Albuquerque". I read the cover blurb and thought, "ok, I'll give it a try".
Little did I know....
It HAUNTS me!
Maybe it's supposed to? Maybe that is the heart of Flamenco? To haunt those who enjoy the art? Maybe it's all one big metaphor I'm either not smart enough or not drunk enough to understand?
I've learned a lot about Flamenco from these pages. I admit, I knew very little going in. Heck, I didn’t even know there is a Flamenco academy at UNM. Who knew? Lots of people, evidently.
The fact that the story is so painfully wrought, touches a *little* close to home with some of the emotional issues AND is set in Albuquerque? Oy. Torture.
About three chapters in I slammed it down and told my partner, "I can't read this" and got snotty about it.
Then I picked it back up and kept going. I've been going to sleep too late every night with the "just one more chapter" philosophy that *never* works. One more turns into one more that turns into one more.
There is this negative review of the book on Amazon. The reviewer says "If you have any intellect this book will drive you crazy." Well, I have some intellect and it does drive me crazy...but not in the way the reviewer meant. Just...crazy.
I can't say I *love* it, I can repeat that I'm tortured by it. I remarked this evening that I can hardly wait until I'm finished with it so the torture can end.
For now, I'm about three quarters done and this book OWNS me.
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Update: I finished. The ending left me....unfinished.
