I overall enjoyed the message of this book and what it taught me, and I appreciated that it was a very quick read. As I often do, I loved the descriptions in this novel, particularly on p. 87, the little red fruits that “when they hit their target they’d disintegrate…staining the victim’s clothes with what looked like blood”. They all painted a vivid image that immersed me in the story, and that’s part of why it felt like such a fast read.

“Eulálio?! That seems fine to me. So Eulálio I shall be.” (p. 83)

I thought Eulálio was so cute and I’m so sad that he died at the end, I don’t think it was at all necessary 🙁

Identity as the primary theme of this book was to be expected given its title. Chameleons are known for the fact that they change their appearance/identity and adapt to their environment. I liked the idea that changing one’s name/identity can lead to a change in you and how you see yourself as a person. You shape yourself to fit into the identity that you see yourself as, like how the minister felt indignation on behalf of his “assigned” grandfather, as though he really was his grandfather, despite just learning who his assigned grandfather would be. I also hadn’t realized that it’s so much easier than I’d thought before this book to construct a whole false life/narrative, especially if you’re someone in a position of power or with money. There’s really not a limit to what people in power or with money can accomplish, both in this novel and in real life: a president can easily be replaced by doubles, people can construct new, nicer pasts, etc.

One thing that stood out to me was Eulálio’s thought that “the only thing that doesn’t change about me is my past” (p. 55): while it’s true that you can’t change the past, your thoughts on it can change, and it’s apparent in this book that not even that is entirely set.

Novels and media tend to make it seem that leading a peaceful/uneventful life is boring or bad. It makes people feel like their lives are unimportant when actually everyone’s life is something meaningful and important. It leads people to feel they need to change themselves, their past, their identity, to better fit the idea of a successful/likeable person in society, and I think this is an interesting unintended consequence of entertainment/media.

The way this book described impermanence, that “we’re only happy — truly happy — when it’s forever after, but only children live in a world where things can last forever.” (p. 89) made me really hate the idea. In the past, it’s been somewhat comforting that life is impermanent, that mistakes don’t matter that much in the grand scheme of things, but in this case, it felt much sadder that our experiences and identity aren’t forever.

If you were given the opportunity to change your past or something about it, would you take it?