Philippine American author Apostol's debut novel, first published in the Philippines in 1997, follows a young woman in love with books and, by extension, indiscriminately, with their authors.
Primi Peregrino's parents, a comic book artist and a taxidermist, jump or are swept off a ship when she is 8, leaving her and her older sister, Anna, who may be a witch, to be raised by a series of peculiar relatives and others, including a grandmother who gives Primi a copy of the Kama Sutra when she's barely old enough to read, a lawyer with “a glance as cunning as a cur's,” and their “aging, excessively gentle, hopeful” godfather, Diego Bastardo. Throughout her childhood, Primi reads: Dostoyevsky, Dickens, and 19th-century Philippine author Jose Rizal, who “kept butting into the curriculum from the time I was in Grade One.” By the time she's 15, and then for the next five years the novel covers, she's having sex with poets or writers of short stories or owners of bookstores or anyone tangentially connected with literature and haunting poetry readings and book launches in search of her next lover. “Surrounded by language-passion, one can't help but get tainted,” she says. Deliberately oblivious to politics, she is astonished by the street demonstrations in Manila that lead to the end of the Marcos regime. Even more than of its place in Manila, this is a book of its literary time, when metafiction flourished. Though it can be hard not to grow impatient with its curlicues of prose, self-referentiality, and almost total absence of linear plot, the novel is full of little verbal surprises and humor, and it's fun to watch the author play with the contrast between her self-involved heroine, who frets that “the winds of change were making people sing folk songs that were driving me nuts,” and the reality of radical political change.
An occasionally frustrating but often entertaining literary throwback.