Well, it was a cute read but I can't seem to shake the feeling that the people who will most benefit from this book are numb 40-somethings weighed down in gloomy, humdrum lives full of meal replacement shakes, discount nappies and gossip columns. Not suffering from this problem, I found the story hackneyed and vague, like Coelho was somehow trying to tap into a market of people just coming back to literature after 20 depressed and phillistinic years in front of a television. Good for a cheap lift or a quick escape, but there's nothing profound or moving here. And really, perhaps there doesn't have to be.
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