The Frozen Heart
Grandes is a much respected and prize-winning author in her native Spain, which leads me to question whether that excellent country’s literature exports as successfully as its cooking. Though the subject matter of The Frozen Heart (trans. Frank Wynne) is rich territory for the novelist, a saga which embraces both the Spanish Civil War and dark doings on the Eastern Front in the Second World War, the potential power of the narrative is utterly submerged in a welter of over‑writing and a baggy structure involving layers of backstory which are both complex and inadequately signposted to the reader.
The novel sets out not merely to entertain but also to fulfil a serious and necessary task in contributing to Spain’s collective examination of the Civil War which defined its character for most of the 20th century. It follows the history of two families backwards from the death of the wealthy and puissant paterfamilias and pillar of Madrid society, Julio Carrion Gonzalez. Gonzalez’ son, Alvaro, is inspired to begin to investigate the family history by the arrival at his father’s funeral of the mysterious Raquel Fernandez Perea, daughter of Civil War exiles. The enormous cast of characters is inadequately differentiated. I was forever referring back to earlier chapters to refresh my memory as to the roles and identities of different characters, which further hindered my progress through a loose and slow-moving plot.
On the plus side, this is a clever story with intriguing secrets at its heart, and more patient readers than me will find many things to admire about it. I should also observe that there may be inadequacies in the translation. And, of course, the nation which gave us Don Quixote clearly has a greater taste for very long and thinly-plotted novels than we do, but Grandes falls far short of Cervantes’ genius.
