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liralen's review
4.0
To an extent Luard's memoir has very little to do with the Camino de Santiago. He completed the pilgrimage, with his sister and a friend, over the course of several stages and several years, and the book is structured loosely around those stages -- but more around his eldest daughter, their complex relationship, and her imminent death.
Luard was not, as he admits, a particularly present father in his children's childhoods; he was not, as his wife has written about, always a particularly good husband. But when his daughter Francesca was diagnosed with AIDS -- which, then, was a death sentence -- he was forced to take a closer look at his life, and his children.
Few of this book's details are found along the walk to Santiago itself. The Luards had previously lived in Spain for some years, so he was familiar with both language and custom; this was not the same trek that a relative outsider would have experienced. He is largely uninterested in either the religious or the cultural aspects of the walk -- he treats it more as a challenge, an adventure.
As the book progresses, it becomes more about Francesca. The walk is not for her, and it is not about her. It is for Luard himself, but he cannot escape the reality of his daughter's illness. The focus becomes not making it from place to place but wrestling with things he cannot change.
Luard doesn't always paint himself in a wonderfully flattering light, and I can't say I came away with particularly fuzzy feelings towards him, but as a book it's poignant. Multifaceted. How different would it have been if Francesca had been diagnosed fifteen, even ten years later? How different would Luard's pilgrimage have been? No way of knowing, of course, but here we have his reality.
Luard was not, as he admits, a particularly present father in his children's childhoods; he was not, as his wife has written about, always a particularly good husband. But when his daughter Francesca was diagnosed with AIDS -- which, then, was a death sentence -- he was forced to take a closer look at his life, and his children.
Few of this book's details are found along the walk to Santiago itself. The Luards had previously lived in Spain for some years, so he was familiar with both language and custom; this was not the same trek that a relative outsider would have experienced. He is largely uninterested in either the religious or the cultural aspects of the walk -- he treats it more as a challenge, an adventure.
As the book progresses, it becomes more about Francesca. The walk is not for her, and it is not about her. It is for Luard himself, but he cannot escape the reality of his daughter's illness. The focus becomes not making it from place to place but wrestling with things he cannot change.
Luard doesn't always paint himself in a wonderfully flattering light, and I can't say I came away with particularly fuzzy feelings towards him, but as a book it's poignant. Multifaceted. How different would it have been if Francesca had been diagnosed fifteen, even ten years later? How different would Luard's pilgrimage have been? No way of knowing, of course, but here we have his reality.
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