I probably would have never picked up a book by Dina Rubina on my own. Nothing personal, it just didn’t seem interesting. But my wife read it and insisted that I absolutely had to read The White Dove of Cordoba—that I would definitely enjoy it.
The most interesting part is that, overall, I did like it. But as I read, my opinion of the book swung wildly between “really enjoying this” and “this feels like some kind of women’s fiction.” At first, the latter impression was winning out.
The narrative jumps between the present day and the story of the main character, Zakhar Cordovin, his family, childhood, and coming of age. And it’s the modern-day sections of the novel that are the least engaging—they felt the most “feminine” to me. I was especially annoyed by the courtship and sexual scenes. You can just tell that a woman is trying to convey a man’s feelings, and I kept wanting to skip those parts.
But as soon as the author switches to describing the hero’s family and childhood, it’s like a different writer takes over. All the melodrama disappears, and you can practically see this Jewish family with your own eyes. It’s impossible to put down.
Amid these shifts, there’s also a thriller plot unfolding, which is eventually overshadowed by everything else. However, even the thriller wraps up in a rushed, unsatisfying way. Many people have complained about the ending, and I’ll join them. Not because of how it ends, but because of why it ends the way it does. I don’t want to spoil anything, but my main issue is with the motivation behind the ending. It feels strange and forced, as if it doesn’t quite fit. The main antagonist didn’t seem to have a compelling reason to act the way they did.
As for the main character, Zakhar is portrayed throughout the novel as a genius, a lover, someone who doesn’t care about money, and even a bit of a commando all in one. At times, it felt like the author was trying to create the perfect image of a man with every possible trait. And that only reinforced my feeling that this novel is aimed at a female audience.
So, what’s the verdict? The story of Zakhar Cordovin’s family is a solid five out of five. Everything else hovers around a two. Overall, I’d give it a 3.5. And I doubt I’ll be reading any other works by Dina Rubina.
