It starts explosively. An armed homosexual burglar bursts into the apartment and the author has only his wits with which to defend himself. But after that the stories of Brazil's past and present weave together easily, languidly -- the country's bloody colonial origins, the author's meals at the Bangue and friendship with the owner, Brazil's great literary figures, the rise of a staggeringly corrupt former president and his moneyman, the destruction of a messiah's community in the desert, the life story of current president Lula. Hard to call it a travel novel. With rare exception, the author moves little from his much-loved seat at the Bangue. But it is beautifully written. Robb combines the prose of a novelist, the eye of a journalist, and the authoritative opinions of a connoisseur. And the stories are compelling enough that -- I admit, I could put the book down, but I kept coming back.