The Book of Chameleons

Chameleons, the great disguising animal which can quite literally blend in with whatever is nearby… This is quite important to recognize before even getting started on the book since it made me ready to jump into a book I’d assume was full deception and cunning, and of course chameleons. While there was plenty of deception and cunning, I was robbed of my chameleon in place of a gecko, which I realize was pretty deceptive and cunning now that I write this out LOL. As I read chapter by chapter, I liked the slow build of the story and the immense detail, I really felt as if Agualusa had turned me into a gecko. This is really in tune with the amount of detail which may feel minute to us, but much larger at the scale of the gecko, such as shards of glass and the tall wild grass, even the temperature of the cool brick in the sun.

This is seen almost right away in the start of the book as Agualusa writes “The wide brick and wooden walls are always cool, even in the heat of the day when the sun has silenced the birds, lashed at the trees, and begun to melt the asphalt. I slip across them like a tick on its host’s skin” (pg. 9). The book’s original translation in the Portuguese original is called “The Seller of Pasts” which is quite literally on point with the plot of the book, but I think “The Book of Chameleons” is also a fitting name, as the first is being literal to the plot while the latter is being subtle to the themes. Through the perspective of the gecko, we do see the shenanigans and shady business being conducted by Felix, selling new pasts to people. We read quite a bit of deception, one example I remember is when the gecko lies to the butterfly and eats it.

Also, I kind of liked this quote a lot “Imagine a young man racing along on his motorcycle, on a minor road. The wind is beating at his face. The young man closes his eyes, and opens his arms wide, just like they do in films, feeling himself completely alive and in communion with the universe. He doesn’t see the lorry lunging out from the crossing. He dies happy. Happiness is almost always irresponsible. We’re happy for those brief moments when we close our eyes.” (pg. 94), which also kind of reminded me of a tv show called Sons of Anarchy (ok spoiler) and it’s upsetting ending. It really feels in tune with Radiohead vibes (please listen to Let Down, Go Slowly, (Nice Dream), Nude, and All I need). I feel that reality seemed to be quite interesting in the book, as there was a few twists which made me even wonder about identity, I mean, it’s in our power to create who we are, so why wouldn’t it be in our power to reshape the past and things out of our control? Perhaps it’s better to not play god and reshape history, though life is seemingly endless and infinite (frightening). How do our own tales of identity come to be created and is it in our best interest to seemingly restart and cleanse what’s already existed? Is this perhaps something we should only reserve for nuance cases, and if so, who gets to subjectively decide what counts and doesn’t?