Although this novel has been termed "Flaubertian" by more than one writer (and not only as a compliment, at least in some cases), my opinion is that Gustave Flaubert was never even close to portrait the untangible spirit of everyday love, hate, lust, greed, gossip, fanatism and passion the way Vargas Llosa does in this novel. Perhaps people from more temperate societies could have a difficult time understanding how all the forementioned characters interact to form everyday life in Latin America, but if anybody could show it to them, it is Vargas Llosa. In this novel a demented,compulsive chauvinist, racist(anti-Riverplateans) and diminutive radio soapopera scriptwriter is nevertheless redeemed by an unconquerable zeal to portray what are just small exagerations of what really happens aroud him; and even serves as an inspiration for a budding writer and his forbidden love. How all this twists and turns is fascinatingly complex, and beyond any possible synopsis.