I read The Alchemist again the other day and loved it just as much as the first time. There’s something special about that book - it makes you want to get up and pursue your dreams, to think big and open again.

So I had high expectations for Eleven Minutes. Unfortunately it didn’t live up.

Eleven Minutes is a much more conventional novel than the Alchemist. The primary subject is sex and prostitution, with several undercurrents of deeper meaning thrown in for good measure.

Somehow it just didn’t grab me. The latter parts of the book get a bit creepy, and the ending, frankly, disappointed.

Perhaps it’s just the shock of the difference between The Alchemist and Eleven Minutes; looks like lots of people on Amazon reviews found it jarring.

I’m onto the Zahir next, still hoping there’s a lot more Coelho I can enjoy.