Well, I did finish The Shadow of the Wind... And I'd have to put it up there as one of the best books I've read in quite a long time (as far as fiction goes, at least). It works well as a strange sort of thriller, a paean to books, a modern take on the Gothic novel, a love story, and a bildungsroman (with odd twists and turns)... and an ironic novel, all at once. The prose is often lyrical and even dazzling; and there are passages here and there that one only comes across in truly fine literature, things that have a scope far beyond the tale in which they have their home. For example:
"Nothing feeds forgetfulness better than war, Daniel. We all keep quiet and they try to convince us that what we've seen, what we've done, what we've learned about ourselves and about others, is an illusion, a passing nightmare. Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognize them and they return, with another face and another name, to devour what they left behind."
This is, indeed, a lovely, lovely book, and one which I will revisit often; of that I am sure.