THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 3, 1996 TAG: 9611040169
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J2 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Book Review
SOURCE: BY DEBRA GORDON
LENGTH: 74 lines
THE LAW OF LOVE
LAURA ESQUIVEL
Crown. 288 pp. $25.
I am writing this review surrounded by the romantic, sensual sounds of Puccini's Madame Butterfly. Although tired after a long day of work, I am refreshed by the music, taken away to a place of wine, of richly scented roses, deep decolletage and dashing mustachioed and muscled men. The land of Laura Esquivel's The Law of Love.
For this long-awaited novel by the author of the acclaimed Like Water for Chocolate is more than just a book. It is a multimedia affair, complete with color pictures and musical CD to take you deep into the fantasy Esquivel weaves. Hers is a romantic, funny, silly and somehow strangely tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers who spend 14,000 years searching for each other until they are finally reunited in the 23rd century.
It is necessary to suspend disbelief to enjoy The Law of Love, to become childlike in your ability to enter the fairy tale.
Esquivel's world is a time of astroanalysts, such as heroine Azucena. As a kind of highly evolved psychotherapist, Azucena helps people research and come to terms with their past lives. In the 23rd century, you can remember who you were and what you've done, make amends for your sins, understand your longings, and relate the past to who you are today.
The ultimate nirvana is to be reunited with your twin soul, your true love. For Azucena, that is Rodrigo. Alas, no sooner do the two meet and make incredibly passionate love than Rodrigo disappears, setting into motion the utterly hilarious, all-too-full-of-convenient-coincidences chase across 14 centuries and several planets.
The lovers and their entourage, including Azucena's landlady Cuquita, and Cuquita's ancient grandmother and abusive husband, play a game of musical bodies to thwart the police who are searching for them. So some characters end up with names like the ``ex-Azucena," or the ``ex-Rodrigo.'' And your head whirls.
Then, just for fun, Esquivel spices things up with a sub-plot (that turns, at times, into the main plot) of a female politician claiming to have been Mother Theresa in a past life. Actually, the evil politico Isabel was more likely Mussolini, but that's another past life regression. . . .
Isabel lives on the ancient site of the Temple of Love, destroyed when the conquistadors destroyed the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, an act that forms the basis for the book.
Unfortunately, the tip of the temple's pyramid keeps poking up in Isabel's garden during a press conference. Her solution? Sit her fat daughter upon it to hide it.
And thus you understand where Isabel fits in the cosmic scheme of things.
The fun continues.
The book is chock-full of past lives and reincarnations - Rodrigo and Azucena were once father/daughter; Isabel, in a previous life, once stabbed and killed Rodrigo's brother-in-law who had been raping Rodrigo, who, in that life, was a young woman, and so on and so on. Keep pad and pencil nearby to track all the lives, the body exchanges, the masquerades.
And read near a CD player. For throughout the book, usually when Azucena is about to remember a past life, you are prompted to listen to a certain track on the CD. Also sprinkled throughout the book are pages of crude drawings depicting Azucena's past lives. A rape. A murder. An earthquake. A baby smashed to the ground.
Hey, things are rough when you've been around 14,000 years.
But if you can manage to put aside your strait-laced 20th century expectations, loosen up with some of the Italian opera and Spanish dance music on the CD, then you can enter Esquivel's world. A world worth visiting, one you may even long for. A world of magic. MEMO: Debra Gordon is a staff writer. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
Laura Esquivel's latest comes with a music CD. by CNB