Set in post-Civil War Barcelona, The Shadow of the Wind follows Daniel Sempere through his teen years as he unravels the mystery behind a novel of the same name, which he is reading - learning about his own persona and past through their concord with the story of the novel’s author, Julian Carax. Essentially a mystery by genre, Zafon’s novel comments implicitly on the politics of Spain, war and the unavoidable effects of history on an individual’s coming of age. It is relatively easy for a mystery novel to be a page-turner, but a sign of true quality when an author can do so without falling into cliché. Whilst always intriguing, the true highlights of Carlos Ruis Zafon’sThe Shadow of the Wind are his sharp characterisation and amiable tone, encasing the reader within the familiars of the tale in a commendably understated and clever manner.

Amidst the drama and seriousness of the setting, era and storyline, Zafon drops in a hint of realistic prose at just the right points, showing a respect for and building a friendly rapport with the reader. With a happy medium between flowery lyricism and cheeky veracity a reader will find themselves giggling more than once when Zafon’s tone shifts to a comic frankness. These mischievous moments dropped occasionally into the story make this novel stand out against many others of the same genre and, very strategically, draw the reader in more than the mystery ever could.

The titular ‘shadow of the wind’ refers to the aftermath of a time. Specifically, the ‘wind’ refers to the drama that blew through Spain during the Civil War, and the whirlwind and turmoil that seemed to be Julian Carax’s life. As shadows only exist when there is illumination, the shadow of the wind perfectly presages the narrative as Daniel lives through and learns from what is revealed as more and more about Carax’s life ‘comes to light’. Rather than the shadow being a dark and sombre thing (although there are tones of both in the book), it is occasionally portrayed as a valuable place to be; Daniel is walking through the shadow of a wind which only exists because the truths of Spain and Carax are being illuminated. He is learning the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of his world and the effects of various histories on his own significance.

The fact that both Carax and Zafon’s novels share a title also references this cyclical nature. Daniel’s life resembles and repeats so much of Carax’s own, and the novel ends in an almost identical manner to that which it began as Daniel takes his son to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books, where his own father took him in the novel’s first pages. Supposedly a son who will then also be enlightened as he learns from the shadow of his own father and whichever book he may take from the cemetery. Cyclical too is the fact that Daniel reads Carax / we read Zafon – perhaps we too are supposed to learn and grow as much as Daniel does from the illuminations of this novel, the life of Carax and the remembrance of histories of war. 

In addressing war, the novel also tackles the concept of evil as multi-layered. ‘“Not evil,” Fermin objected. “Moronic, which isn’t quite the same thing. Evil presupposes a moral decision, intention, and some forethought”’ (p158). This mentality of evil is conceded throughout the novel whilst the politics of Franco and the Civil War are rendered as meditated evil, and the henchmen of the various political perspectives are illustrated as thugs. Aside from the various beatings from angry brothers, lovers, husbands and fathers (which are mostly depicted as aggressive acts of passion, ie. thuggery) the absolute example of evil is Inspector Fumero. It is difficult to categorise Fumero purely by the terms outlined above though. Whilst a policeman and supposedly acting with the morality of the law behind him, so many of his actions are carried out in such a brute manner that ‘thuggery’ is really the only word for it.

The notion of Fumero as a thug is further cemented by the fact that he is described as having murdered and beaten people from many factions of society, based on whoever was paying the highest price for his services. Does this mean then that Fumero has no moral backing for his actions? Or does this mean that the only ‘moral’ for his actions is the desire for evil? If so, is this moral / intent enough to classify him as evil as opposed to purely moronic? When taking into consideration the eventual revelation that Fumero’s motives also stem from a childhood vendetta, his categorisation leans more toward a pure evil as it is a meditation that has driven all that he has done and a mentality he has lived by his whole life.

The first years of Franco’s reign after the Civil War are also an excellent backdrop for this distinction between evil and moronic thuggery. As Spain gets used to its new leader and its citizens learn how to cope and retain their identity in this new society, many individuals find themselves choosing sides as well as learning how to ‘be’ (not unlike Daniel’s education into manhood). This is an education which Daniel acquires mostly through his novel of The Shadow of the Wind:  ‘“Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you,“‘(p215). This spells out exactly what Zafon is doing with his novel; Daniel’s trajectory echoes Carax’s life. This is done not so much through the text of Carax’s book, but through Daniel’s fascination with the origins of it. Daniel’s original interest in the content of the novel is later replaced by a desire to pursue the truth of its writer. What he saw in the novel was not just its own narrative but the perspective of the man who wrote it, which was what he associated more with. This opinion of books is also an important one to consider in terms of the depiction of Franco’s Spain, more so for Spanish readers whose political sympathies would effect their reaction to many of the characters. It is true that their like and dislike of characters, actions and representations would be a reflection of their political beliefs and estimation of this period.

Amidst all the soul-searching and social commentary, the book is also rife with humour and wit. Despite the obvious humour of Fermin, the most appreciated wit comes in the occasional sly insertion of a cheeky comment within Zafon’s sentences. Even before we have met Fermin, from whom we eventually come to expect comedy, Zafon has set quite a clever tone of some mockery and ‘wink’ style humour in his descriptions and various asides which are extremely engaging. Almost a recognition to the reader that we are not just being fed a narrative but being told a tale in real terms, this humour also provides an excellent contrast to the moments of darkness and characters of evil. It is a very effective means by which to occasionally lure the reader into a false sense of security before something violent or disruptive occurs.

On the note of humour - quite possibly the most fascinating and fantastic character of the novel is the aforemention Fermin De Torres; Daniel’s friend and mentor and someone who walks with an eternal ‘shadow of the wind’ over his own head in both positive and heartbreaking terms. He is honest about his past accomplishments, pains, experiences and failures. He does not talk in detail about his darker experiences of the war until later in the novel, however it is obvious from early on that they still scar him both physically and psychologically. Daniel describes an evening when Fermin has a sort of mental breakdown in his apartment, losing control of himself and engaging in quite wild behaviour as his memories take over. This event, more than Fermin’s eventual confession depicts the truth of his character more than any tale he tells. As Fermin is such a wise and entertaining storyteller we learn so much about his sensitivities in what he chooses to reveal, however the psychotic episode mentioned above has most impact in depicting the truth of what lies under Fermin’s vigorous façade. This does not suggest that the wonderful persona of Fermin who entertains and enlightens so much is a farce, but merely that his happier traits conceal the darker shadows left behind.

It is very difficult to put into words exactly how important Fermin is to Daniel’s journey. While Daniel argues with his own father, the latter is never portrayed as a bad or unfair man. Regardless, Daniel seems to turn to Fermin instead as both a father figure and friend. Fermin gives him advice, tells him truths about the war, and women, and also encourages and assists Daniel in his investigations. As these investigations eventually translate into Daniel’s ‘coming-of-age’, it could perhaps be suggested that Fermin fills the void of communication between Daniel and his father, perhaps the embodiment of both Daniel’s and his father’s consciences, saying all that they don’t as well as sharing their interests, sense of humour and humanity.

This combination of fortitude, darkness, history but enduring humour embodied by Fermin is also the incarnation of Zafon’s depiction of post-War Spain; a fragmented and unsettled country. There is a sadness that hangs over Barcelona as so many people carry the scars of loss and fear that the years of the Civil War effected. The ‘current’ emphasis seems to be a lot more on disgust at Franco’s Spain, against which many characters participate in ‘mini-rebellions’. However, none of the characters seem prepared to revolt openly; conversations and activities are all carried out in secrecy in order to avoid being caught and punished. This leads to a very ‘cloak-and-dagger’ society of secrets and camaraderie, but also one of oppression and constant fear. This aura of secrecy and hidden truths also serves Zafon’s narrative well as it forces Daniel and Fermin to be quite innovative in their investigations amongst suspicious people which proves entertaining whilst simultaneously feeding the atmosphere of mystery.

The only question which remains unanswered relates to Daniel’s relationship with his father, an understanding, sympathetic, wise and caring man. It is sometimes difficult to understand why Daniel shuns him. He has endured a war and the loss of his wife, and remains stoic as his son moves further away from home and family, towards danger and adulthood. Who or what does he represent if anything at all?  Loaded with observations, intrigue and humour, Carlos Ruis Zafon’s Shadow of the Wind is a reminder that in our (post) postmodern era it is sometimes a more traditional recipe of narrative, character, morals and romance that serve best and remind us what a good solid novel is all about.