Review by Booklist Review
The tragedies of European Jewish history, the theme of his internationally acclaimed The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon (1998), continue to occupy Zimler, as does the lure of the occult, but fantasy and romance rule his newest novel. Zimler's protagonist, Bill Ticino, is severely depressed after his wife moves out of their lovely San Francisco home. Afraid of the dark and haunted by vaguely perceived spirits and painful memories, he seeks the reassuring presence of a housemate. Enter Peter, an androgynous, handsome, and refined man with a bird named Maria and penchants for flowers, tea, and antiques. Peter assures Bill that he isn't gay, but he's not a typical heterosexual man either, and his acquaintances are equally enigmatic. Bill is mesmerized by the astonishingly vivid, often disturbing stories Peter tells, and soon finds himself experiencing strange dreams and inexplicable instances of clairvoyance and powers of healing. Zimler excels at suspenseful depictions of such heightened states, but ends up trivializing the magic of his tale with cliches and an unconvincingly pat happily-ever-after ending. --Donna Seaman
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Androgyny and the occult offer solutions to a painful spiritual crisis in this mystical account of a divorced man's struggle for personal transformation in 1980s San Francisco. After his chronic philandering breaks up his marriage, psychically fragile Bill Ticino is afraid of the dark and cannot sleep, alone in his suddenly empty home. His job as the editor of a corporate magazine is unfulfilling, and offers him no refuge. To remedy the situation he takes in a housemate, the mysterious, handsome androgynous Peter who brings his pet hoopoe bird, Maria. Bill is immediately fascinated by Peter, drawn to him not only by his looks, but by his odd, poetic way of speaking, his acute sense of smell, his strange stories about mythical creatures and human atrocities, his seeming ability to read Bill's thoughts, the bizarre talismans and Holocaust relics he collects, and the unmistakable impression that he is not quite what he seems. Peter introduces Bill to some other unusual characters from his world, encourages him to interview prostitutes in San Francisco's Tenderloin district, and gradually reveals moreÄthough never allÄof his secrets. Bill's exploration of his own androgyny becomes the key to his recovery and transformation. Zimler (The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon) relies little on present action in the novel, often preferring to have characters sit and tell stories to one another. But the candid first-person narrative generates suspense, as well as a deep concern for what will happen to narrator Bill. The brooding atmosphere and carefully if funereally paced plot promise a strong denouement, but this one is surprisingly perfunctory. Zimler is skilled at evoking an eerie San Francisco underworld, but his need to imbue nearly every moment with undefinable, kabbalistic significance ultimately wears thin. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
Set in 1980s San Francisco, Zimler's (The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon) new novel tells the story of Bill Ticino, who has opted to take a roomie, his marriage having truly soured. And then the going gets weird, as the new roomie, PeterÄhandsome, charming, and androgynous, with an exotic pet and more exotic habits and storiesÄentices Bill into all sorts of directions, including the raw world of runaways, prostitutes, and transvestites in the Tenderloin district. The book runs a lot on episode, some of them grim (one featuring a bead-chain made partly of human teeth extracted from a military torturer by his victim), some of them humorous, and some both; but the ones from the Tenderloin tend toward the harrowing. Eventually, things even out, Bill tries an unsuccessful reunion with his wife, finds out that he's gay (well, this is San Francisco), finds Paul (Peter and Paul?), and falls in love. Interesting, quirky fiction for curious readers susceptible to the curious. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 6/1/99.]ÄRobert E. Brown, Onondaga Cty. P.L., Syracuse, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
A disappointing second effort from Zimler (The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon, 1998), who follows up his early success with a lugubrious coming-out tale set in 1980s San Francisco. Magazine editor Bill Ticino grew up in Long Island and as a child was regaled with his sadistic Italian father's tales of rape and pillage in Ethiopia. Bill eventually marries icy, beautiful Alexandra but can't give up his philandering, which leads her to abandon him. Overcome with fear and loneliness, Bill decides to take in a boarder. The only marginally acceptable applicant turns out to be a soft-spoken foreigner named Peter, who moves in with his pet bird Maria and part of an enormous worm taken from a friend's gastrointestinal tract. Although Bill finds most of Peter's eccentricities more charming than not, the Nazi flag over the boarder's desk is worrisome, as is his dubious sexuality. Peter has some odd friends, too: when Bill confesses to an interest in prostitution, Peter immediately takes him to meet Mara, a former streetwalker with the body of a 15-year-old who leads Bill through the lowest parts of the Tenderloin and introduces him to some of her friends in the trade. Mara admits to Bill that there's a secret about Peter she can't reveal. Soon enough, however, Bill discovers it on his own'and his life is changed forever. Immediately afterward Peter disappears without a trace. Bill is sad at first, but soon he meets and falls in love with Paul, a graphic designer for the San Francisco. The two live happily ever after. Sentimentality dressed up in purple prose ('The sad joke was that Alex and I were crippled twins hobbling along over our separate desert landscapes, stepping carefully over the cracked outcroppings of emotions we'd buried long ago . . .').
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Review by Booklist Review
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Review by Library Journal Review
Review by Kirkus Book Review
