the witch of portobello

There are moments when my brain goes numb, when I can’t think, really. I’m trying to remember what I did in the past, when I couldn’t concentrate, before the internet, and mindless Googling.

It’s so long ago, it’s hard to remember.

I’m trying to use the internet more deliberately.

When I finish a really bad book I can hate myself for having wasted my time, but the reality is, three or four hours *reading* (whatever it is I am reading) at least focuses my attention.

I’m trying not to beat myself over my latest read: The Witch of Portobello by Brazilian author Paolo Coelho.

I don’t know what I think about Coelho. The intellectual in me wants to dismiss him, as my Brazilian friends are wont to do. But I don’t care if he’s not original, if he’s recycling myth, legend, whatever. I agree as a writer he’s not exceptional (to be fair, I have not read him in Portuguese, though I could and should). Good writing impresses me; it doesn’t always inspire me. The Alchemist is a well-told story, a gem, really, but Coelho’s other books (the ones I’ve read) lack something. Even while they inspire, they disappoint, but I can’t put my finger on why. It’s not the material, and it’s not the language, it’s something else.

Is it that a part of me doesn’t believe wisdom should be so accessible?

The Witch of Portobello is a book that explores the feminine nature of divinity, the nature of revelation, etc. I did not like the narrative structure – the story of Athena is told from multiple view points – but I appreciated the lesson in re-patterning: “Changes only happen when we go totally against everything we’re used to doing.” And also the whole idea that love just is. We can’t, and need not, explain it.

Maybe the story tries to do too much? I’d have told it differently, but I think Coelho’s point is that the world is not ready for *revelation* if what is revealed contradicts what is known. And this has always been the case, not only with regard to religious revelation, but also scientific truth.