The Gentleman from Peru by Andre Aciman

 You go to a beautiful, bustling city for summer. It's known for colorful, decadent neighborhoods and velvety flowers and creamy, chocolate and gold dusted soufflés. In this place, away from the tourists and young and experienced travelers, you find a run-in diner. It is dilapidated but the table linen, though faded, speaks of fine taste. You sit, not expecting anything. But you feel sad. You feel the shadows. You feel at home. And you never go anywhere else in your time in the city.

Was that a good or a bad thing to do? Was it a waste of time? To locate the centre of your sorrow and never leave?

Now, I'm not sure if this was the central question of the book. It likely wasn't. But I did ask myself this as I went through the story. It's a summertime story. A bunch of friends are stranded near the Amalfi coast. Their luxurious cruise ship has run into some trouble and the friends have to spend their time at a luxurious resort. They keep seeing a man in the hotel, Raul. He is much older, wise, and mysterious. He comes by their table and touches one guy's shoulder and makes it better. He predicts the future of a few stocks in New York to help out someone else. He guesses the secrets of the relationship of a couple of friends.

So, who is this man and what does he want?

Now, the significance of Peru in the title when the story is set in Italy is actually the toffee-sorrow center of the story. But it's not really a thriller. Yet, something will evaporate if I explain it here by giving away some of the twists and turns.

I thought the story was...lilting. It didn't capture my imagination the way I thought it would after I worked out its layers. But the writing and the narrative set up of the characters was almost noble in its tenderness.

There are lots of places in the story where the author takes his time explaining the place they are in - the cigars and custard plates after meals, sips of wines, houses and bedrooms, lake views, and all that. Those are the pieces that I found most nourishing. You could feel the characters work out the knots in their hearts.

"I love walking all the way here, love reading here under the shade of one of those trees, and then love the walk back, with sand still in my sandals, which takes me back to my childhood when I used to hate having sand trapped in my sandals and preferred walking barefoot. Coming here reminds me that I do love planet Earth, that I like being alive, that I might even like myself."

Imagine if you remembered how much you have lost and waited and lost again, could you love one more time? Could you afford not to?

Sometimes, you need a familiar-feeling diner in an unfamiliar place to ponder about this.