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I was crying when Rosette died...

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I was crying when Rosette died - a beautiful mulatta girl, who for me symbolized love, not only romantic but interracial love, and a hope for better interracial relationships. 

Fiction books often tell stories, which may very well be fairy tales for adults, stories where people learn quickly from their mistakes, know how to forgive and understand one another. It is as if the authors are saying - this is how we wish people to behave, this is the ideal world... However some authors paint a very different picture: no happy endings, no ideal situations, as if they want to warn us this is real life - hard and unforgiving. Do not have any illusions. True love and happiness are mirages of the mind.

Isabel Allende tells a long and rich story of a girl born into slavery and her journey to freedom, in her book, The Island beneath the Sea. It is a story of human power, inequality and possessiveness, a story of hatred, war and fear but also love. It is also a story of the everyday lives of people in 18 century Saint-Domingue or Haiti and New Orleans, set on a detailed historical background. Beautiful, interesting, and poignant, this story does not leave a place for a silver lining. Allende does not give love a chance. So, I was crying when Rosette died...