Customer Reviews

The 351 Books of Irma Arcuri: A Novel

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

I read this book after reading the glowing L.A. Times review and found that reading it was like falling in love. At first there's the astonishment, then the infatuation, then the deeper fascination. That may sound silly, but it is a book about love--and a book about the love of books. It's thick with ideas, and yet I found it to be a page turner. I was pulled along by the mysteries, the characters, and even the writing itself. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves books, either as objects or for what's in them--readers, writers, collectors, librarians, book designers and restorers, and so on. It's also about sex. Really about it. David Bajo is one of the few contemporary writers I have come across who is writing about sex directly, provocatively, and intelligently without draining the eroticism. This is a hot book, but never gratuitous or juvenile. I'm going to wait awhile, but I plan to read it again fairly soon--both because it's rich in ideas and because it's a pleasurable read.

I guess I have no one to blame but myself for not really liking this novel because I went into it expecting something totally different. When I saw "351 books" in the title and read that the protagonist was a math genius, I thought this would be something I might enjoy a lot--a story that looks at the world through the dual lenses of (almost) a book a day and the mathematical mindset. Instead, I was drawn into a confusing story that seemed to do both literature and math a disservice.

The novel starts off promising enough: the math whiz, Philip Masryk, is left a collection of 351 beautifully bound books by his soul-mate, yet seeming opposite, the bookbinder, Irma Arcuri. She has, for some reason I'm still not clear on, decided to abandon her lover and disappear somewhere in the world. But she has left him clues in the books she has bound for him and he pursues her. So far, so good.

It soon becomes apparent, however, that there are real problems in this novel. Here are some of my disappointments: first, the books are really secondary here. It's an interesting premise that's wasted. Five of the books are "authored" by Irma and of the "real" novels, the most important pieces are lines inserted into the text by Irma. Only Don Quixote seems to be used with any real impact. The rest are pointless background.

Second, Philip is the only character that is really well-developed and, granted, he is interesting in his way. His running obsessions and focused way of thinking are fun to see. Still, it's hard to believe that so many women want to have sex with this math introvert, especially since he manages to cheat on them all. And I didn't really believe this idea of Philip turning everything into an equation. I've met a lot of high level mathematicians in my career and I've never known one to do this--wish about it, maybe. It reminded me of that stupid thing they do in Time Out New York with their equation of the week.

By the way, there is a lot of sex in this book. Not necessarily a bad thing but, as I said before, I don't really get the appeal of Philip to all the women he beds. And Irma is so distant that she never becomes a fully-formed character. It's hard to see her appeal. And yet, every character in this book seems driven primarily by their sexual desire for Irma, who seems to have had sex with everyone. That includes Philip's ex-wives as well as his step-children. Unnecessarily strange, if you ask me.

The fact of the matter is, I walked away from this novel very confused about what I experienced and what I was supposed to take away from it. The books sort of fizzles out rather than finishes. I don't know if there's more to come but, despite some very readable passages, the overall effect doesn't leave me wishing for more.

I hesitated to start this book because it came to me through a friend who met the author, and usually books that arrive through those kind of channels aren't my cup of tea. I was also worried about the mathematics in the book, either that it would be a convenient gimmick or that the math would bog down the story. The cover was intriguing, though, and the book had a blurb from a writer I really like, so I gave it a try and I'm really glad I did. First of all, the use of math was very well done. It was complex but not complicated, and it was integral to the story. The main character is something of a math genius who uses formulas and numbers to understand the world, but this approach fails him when he tries to understand people. He can tell you what percentage of time a particular person answers the phone or how many nouns to verbs someone uses, but he can't tell you why people act like they do. At one point his ex-wife is angry at him because he isn't angry at her for something he should be (makes sense in the book, but hard to explain here) and he says, more or less, "at least I know why I'm supposed to be." This is a big improvement for him. It seems that this lack of emotional understanding is part of why Irma Arcuri has disappeared and why she has left Philip her library. He tries to use math to work through the books, but he finds he has to use the language of words. In that way, the book makes a case for literature, and Philip does fall under the spell of stories. But that's just one thread in an elegantly woven tapestry. There are a lot of ideas at work here, but it's also a good story (almost a mystery, full of clues for bibliophiles) about a man searching for a woman he loves, trying to find her physically while seeking to understand who she is and what they have had together. The book is also good on place, especially Seville and Philadelphia. The author really captures these cities, but he also makes them into something more, and I won't ever think about them in quite the same way. In that sense, the book really does create a world of its own, with its own logic and geography. Sometimes people say a book is "thought-provoking" in the same way they say an unattractive blind date is "interesting," but this book is thought-provoking in the very best sense. There is a lush quality to the writing that makes the book beautiful but not at all dumbed-down. The more I think about it, the more profound it is, and Irma Arcuri has become a real presence for me.

Author and bookbinder Irma disappears, leaving her collection of 351 books to Philip, mathematician and her longtime friend and lover. Reading the books, Philip discovers that Irma has left him hidden messages which may aid him in his attempt to discover where she is--or perhaps simply who she was. The 351 Books of Irma Arcuri is a dense combination of Philip's search for Irma, his history with her, and the stories in her books, filled with literature, mathematics, and sex. The book has an intriguing and intelligent concept, and its focus is character motivation and themes more than plot progression. But, with an undeveloped plot and constant scene changes, the book is difficult to read--and neither the characters nor themes redeem its difficulty. I don't recommend it.

351 Books is dense and difficult to read. The plot moves slowly: ostensibly, Philip searches for Irma in and out of her books, but much of the plot is dedicated to mundane events as Philip wanders through cities and goes on dozens of long runs. The plot is interrupted by flashbacks, recaps of the books in Irma's collection, and second person descriptions of the setting; these numerous scene changes come without warning, confusing the reader and yanking him out of the story to force him to reread and regain his bearings. The plot doesn't go much of anywhere, and it is largely a vehicle to convey characters and themes. No doubt, this dense story style is intentional, and it mirror Irma's messages for Philip, hidden within the pages of her books. The text grows marginally easier to read over time, but it never becomes a book to get lost in.

By no means does a book need to be easy to consume in order to be good or enjoyable. However, a difficult book needs to have something--writing, characters, themes--to make the reader's time and effort worthwhile. 351 Books never manages to reward the reader for its difficulty. Bajo's narrative voice is competent but entirely unremarkable. For all that the plot is a mere vehicle for the characters, those characters are distant and, though they're nuanced to excess, their esoteric details only render them unbelievable. Worst of all, despite all its rich source material, the book says nothing of note. It does say something--of how Philip and Irma view the world, of relationships and the expectations they hold, of the codes and meanings present within life--but none of these themes or messages is brilliant, bold, or memorable.

Bajo intends well, and his novel has a certain charm: the messages hidden within books are intriguing, and Irma is unusual and engaging. But the novel is laboriously slow and frankly unenjoyable to read, and nothing--not characters nor themes nor Philip's revelations--redeems it. Rather than difficult and fulfilling, The 351 Books of Irma Arcuri is merely difficult and disappointing. It is an unnecessarily complex and confusing combination of scenes and styles without the compelling characters or themes to reward the effort of reading it. I liked the premise, and wanted to like the book, but I simply couldn't enjoy it. Therefore, I don't recommend 351 Books--not to the causal reader, nor to the reader that wishes to be challenged and rewarded for his work.

This book reminded me at first blush of The Time Traveler's Wife, both 1st novels by their respective authors and both with story-within-story and non-linear plot elements. Where Time Traveler's Wife ultimately pulled together a heart warming single narrative, this book is overly confusing for where it ultimately takes you, which is not very far in terms of character or plot development.

The "math" in the book amounts to random equations thrown in at semi-random intervals, it is insulting at worst to weak at best.

If you are a Philadelphia native you will notice some of the scenes, but also some glaring errors.

Overall, give this book-within-books of the protagonist's quest to find his missing lover and in the process reconnect with his family a miss.

I found this book to be elegant, beautiful and simply impossible to put down. There is a lot of sex, but don't let that deter you - it's aspirational, but really conveys the mood. Other reviewers have stated all this more thoroughly and better than me, but I just wanted to chime in and say that relying on the previous positive reviews was, for me, a good move.

Well, I had to fall in line with the general flow of the reviews. I expected a lot, I really wanted it to happen, I waded through it; but no, I didn't sprint, run marathons, work out the logarithms, or really get off. But the sex scenes were written beautifully, no kidding (almost one per chapter). They were, in fact, unbelievable. Why would these two extraordinary women (Irma and Lucia), not to mention the (two) boring housewives, be so hot after this mostly ordinary (and sadly, kind of boring, and self-absorbed) mathematical insurance-analyst-statistician idiot savant? It was a mighty stab, but in a nutshell: a woman (Irma, of the title) disappears, leaves her (351) books to her old lover (him, the narrator), then she leaves clues (to the reasons why, but not the location where) in (what I figured to be) around only 5 or 6 of the rebound volumes. He goes looking for her (to Spain). She has seduced his ex-wife (Rebecca) as well as both of her two kids (his former step-children -- but it's okay, they're now [barely] over eighteen). She supplants her (also-Irma-seduced) doppelganger Lucia (The Beautiful and Intelligent) to further seduce and confuse (as well as enlighten) him further. (Lucia is in fact, one of the best, if not THE best, and believable, characters in the book). Well, [SPOILER ALERT], I'm halfway through the damn thing before I realize we ain't gonna see Irma... ever. [Oh yeah (?!), you gonna tell me she switches place with Lucia while banging Philip, the protagonist-- I don't think so]. The story's a mess, and he's a mess, even though he travels the world without a care, except for serial jogging, being a real nut about that, then returning to sit (often in pain from running, in Philadelphia) in his Naugahyde chair, drink bourbon, and then attempts to (but never really does) read the 351 books (excepting only Cervantes' Don Quixote, which even then he's not sure he's reading the original, or Irma's edited version). Sorry, I really wanted it to come together, but unfortunately... no denouement.

Some of the writing is beautiful, and awe-inspiring, stylistically, but there's a lot of repetition, and not just a little flamboyancy (to put it mildly). Sure would have liked to have read about the Irma (the old mysterious bruja lover) and Nicole (stepdaughter) sex scenes, but that's just me. If this was autobiographical, then it was a bit of a cheat by not bringing it to closure, and also straining credulity with the exaggerated attractiveness of this geeky, and somewhat socially inept, yet (supposedly) brilliant, accountant. Oh yeah,I forgot to mention the main theme of the novel: Irma rebinds and repairs old books, oftentimes when they don't even need it, sometimes slipping in her own narratives between scenes. Go figure. So you never know... maybe that was the point of the book. Even now, I don't know.

There are dozens of positive remarks that one could make about the quality of David Bajo's writing: Intelligent, sophisticated, stylish - I'm reminded most of Michael Ondaatje in both method and tone. And also similar to the other author, I find his character so ethereal, so art-house filmic that I have trouble believing that they have anything of substance to relate to me as a reader. This is, of course, highly subjective, as are most observations found in reviews - other readers may instantly relate to the people Mr. Bajo writes about. I would suspect that for them the narrative here would be sharp and engaging.

Phillip is a polymath, a man who often translates the events and unanswered questions in his life into complex mathmatical equations. And Irma Arcuri is the woman he's loved on and off through his life and through his marriages - and who, it turns out, has also loved nearly every other person within Phillip's circle. When Irma vanishes, she leaves her book collection to Phillip, and eventually he realizes that she has left clues for him within the texts of these books, which she has rebound herself - clues that at first seem to point out where Irma may have vanished to. Phillip immediately resigns from his job with a large insurance company, knowing that his skills will always be in high demand, and begins looking for Irma. His quest begins in Philadelphia, and takes his to the Spanish countryside, all the while rebounding off the others who she has either touched or mesmerized, and reliving their shared and individual memories of Irma. What they find in their search, however, may only be that up to now they have all been characters in Irma's story, and that now it is time to write their own.

At first, the mystery linked to the literary allusions kept my interest - but it began to wane as the storyline took on the trappings of an intellectual romance, with regular and detailed sexual interludes. As the book progressed, the mystery and the events took increasingly dubious turns, with the characters' actions based on events that, to me, seemed too neatly engineered, in order to bring about the specific resolution that the author desired. I suppose that could be said of many novels, but there are also other insights that the venue can deliver - 'The 351 books of Irma Arcuri' veers in that direction, but unfortunately, any insights that it does have are negated by the unreal situation of Irma's character. She is such a god-like figure in the book, pulling the strings of all her acquaintances from wherever she has disappeared to, that any observations the reader might take away feel germane only to the unique set of circumstances Mr. Bajo has conjured up.

Still, taken as pure entertainment, I'm sure there are readers that would appreciate 'Irma Arcuri', despite an inconclusive ending. I would imagine there is a contingent - small but viable - who enjoy literary puzzles, extraordinarily strong female characters, intelligent but easily manipulated men, soft-core sex scenes, and romantic locales. I'm just not one of them.

I loved this book, and think it is woefully underrated in online reviews. It's not perfect, not quite a five-star for me, but it is a really special book and I recommend it highly. I read a lot of books which I love, but only rarely do I find an author who sees the world as I do. This book is ultimately an ode to physicality, to sensuality, to the material world. Bajo makes a brilliant connection between the gritty physicality of the book and the physical act of lovemaking. There's an argument lurking here... that to love books is to love the world of the senses, and that to reject physical books is to reject physical love.
The plot is exciting, and the characters intriguing, but this theme of the power of touch, of people and of books, is what made this novel really wonderful for me.
Highly recommended to all lovers of actual printed books!

A friend who devours books recommended this book to me. I saved it for vacation and struggled through the first three days of my trip while attempting to determine why anyone would find value in this book. No question, the sex was alluring and unlike some others here who hated the book, I have no issue with Irma's sexuality. It was one of the truly unique elements of the book. Beyond the erotica, however, the writing was dense, pretentious, and repetitive. Like a previous reviewer, I kept thumbing forward to see when the chapter would come to an end, so I could determine just how much longer I had to hang in there. I had the distinct impression that Bajo was trying to be Hemingway -- writing of the "lost generation" in prose that tries too hard to be poetic. He ain't Hemingway.