The story of a brief romance between the opera singer Enrico Caruso and a Chinese-mulatta Cuban woman, Aida Petrirena Cheng, narrated by their illegitimate daughter. The romance is doomed because Caruso is only making a short tour in Cuba, he's married, the Sicilian Black Hand is making death threats, and he may be seriously ill (the last I never figured out).

The story is presented like a tragic opera. Unfortunately, although competently written the book is emotionally uninvolving throughout. The characters, though not stereotyped, never came to life, and neither did the story. It always seemed as though everyone was making much too much of a fuss about everything. So Caruso had a (fictional) fling; what's the big deal?

I loved the book because it deals with Enrico Caruso, the greatest tenor who ever lived, and it is very well written. The story takes place in Cuba and describes what happened after a bomb exploded during an Aida performance of Caruso (this starting place of the story really happened) - for the rest of the story - one has to admit that it is purely fictional. Caruso taking part in strange Voodoo ceremonies, the black hand persecuting him and chasing him all over Cuba and he strangely in love with a Chinese girl. Also in the description of the looks and the character of Caruso I could not actually recognize him.... But who cares when the story as a story itself is so exiting. The magic of the book lies in its description of fate and tragedy around the famous man. Somehow its easy to take mentally part in the story...and you'll read it in a night, so thrilling and exiting is the book... I had the feeling it was written by somebody who fell in love with the famous voice and added a little bit too much imagination :-) It's like an opera of Verdi - you think it's absurd, but you love it.

Ps: Who already owns the book and is interested to know, the name written on the picture (KiKo) is one of Caruso's nicknames. If you want to have a look on it, you'll find it in Dorothy Caruso's book about her husband.

The Palm of Darkness left me wanting more of Mayra Montero. I expected another excellent book - I got an exquisite one. Montero masterfully handles a variety of voices, scene changes that are cultural as well as temporal, and weaves them into a magnificant unity. The story is sufficiently compelling that one appreciates the craftmanship only in retrospect.

Within my taste she stands with Emmanuel Carrere, Luis Sepulveda, and Antonio Tabbuchi as a true contemporary master of the novel.

This book contains some excellent points and vocal tips given by two great singers of their time. One must however disregard much of the negativity and arrogance with which the book was written - there is no "foolproof" method for singing and each person must unlock their individual potential. It is true, however, that essentially, one must sing naturally and comfortably, as this book emphasizes.

I liked hearing from Tetrazzini herself how she achieved such a wonderful sound, what her "secrets" were. This book was a very nice change from the usual technical material. I thought the personal information and insights were interesting. I'm even re-reading it now with my highlighter, just to make sure I get every thing I can out of it.

It's a nice book about the great Enrico Caruso, informs you quite well with the usual mistakes and leaving out a lot - to get every book about him, yes buy it, but if you look for a really good book take the unabridged version of "My father and my family" by Caruso jr. or the Book of Michael Scott about Caruso.

I did not like this book at all - the author promises to tell all the secret truth about Caruso (the stuff that has never been told before, you know...) - in the end he just tells what everybody already knew, only that he criticizes as much as he can - without any foundation just to reveal the promissed secret. If you're looking for a good book about Caruso take "My father and my family" in the unabridged version by Caruso jr. (the best ever written about Caruso) or the book by Michael Scott.