En español | Paulo Coelho’s new novel Aleph opens with a quote from the famous Jorge Luis Borges short story of the same name. Borges’s tale deals with a self-important poet whose mental activity is described as “continuous, deeply felt, far-ranging, and — all in all — meaningless.” One can’t help thinking of this character when reading about the exploits of Coelho’s narrator, a semi-fictional alter ego also named Paulo, who in spite of finding success in his writing profession feels bogged down by daily routine and is undergoing a crisis of faith.
The solution to his problem? Spurred on by his spiritual master — cryptically (and unimaginatively) called “J” — Paulo, 59, decides to crisscross the world in search of answers. After all, he nonchalantly tells us, “Travel is never a matter of money but of courage.”
Paulo’s journey takes him to places like the cities of Tunis, Tunisia, and Novosibirsk, Russia, as he speaks at engagements attended by droves of faithful readers, and wines and dines with a cast of eccentric characters.
There’s an unnamed clairvoyant from Morocco who spoils dinner by accurately predicting an impending car accident when all Paulo wanted was to talk “with friends who share a passion for classic Harley-Davidsons.” A translator, a retired language teacher by the name of Yao, quotes from the Tao Te Ching. And a young Turkish violinist, Hilal, introduces herself to Paulo in a manner that in any other context but the whimsical universe in which Aleph takes place would be construed as a tacky pickup line: “My name’s Hilal, don’t you remember? I came to light the secret fire.” It is with Hilal that Paulo experiences “aleph,” the mythical “point at which everything is in the same place at the same time.”