Rediscovering the World of "Invisible": A Mixed Embrace with Redes
As a book blogger, I often find myself excitedly diving back into beloved universes, eager to reconnect with characters who have made a lasting impact on my life. That’s precisely why Redes (Invisible #2) caught my eye. Eloy Moreno, the author whose previous work Invisible holds a sacred space on my bookshelf, set the bar high for this sequel. Four years ago, Invisible became more than just a story for me; it was a mirror reflecting my own struggles and triumphs. So, when I opened Redes, I was ready to re-enter that deeply meaningful world—but I also found myself grappling with disappointment.
From the outset, I want to be clear: I enjoyed Redes. Its pages turn effortlessly, an aspect I’ve found consistent in Moreno’s work. The writing possesses an adolescent flair that renders it approachable, even when addressing challenging subjects such as grooming and sexting. Yet, while I initially felt the familiar allure of returning to this universe, the overall impact didn’t hold a candle to the emotional resonance of its predecessor.
One of the most poignant aspects of Redes is the way it attempts to tackle contemporary issues surrounding social media and its consequences. However, while the book captures the struggles of the new characters, Betty and Alex, it leaves beloved figures like the Invisible Boy and Zaro fluttering in the background. Their sparse appearances felt almost like teasing glimpses of the past—memories that linger in our minds but offer little substance. The absence of major character arcs from Invisible, especially the crucial role of the teacher who shaped so much of the first narrative, left me wistful for depth and reunion.
Moreno’s style shines through in his straightforward narrative, yet I found myself questioning whether the cautionary tales against social media were overkill. The cycle of warnings about the dangers of the internet sometimes read like a grim reiteration rather than a fresh perspective. Much like a well-meaning relative at a family gathering who has repeated the same bad story for years, it missed the opportunity to inspire rather than admonish.
However, let’s not forget what I loved about Redes. The nostalgia of reconnecting with familiar scenes—a fleeting mention here and there of characters I’ve come to adore—brought warmth to my heart. Moreno’s ability to manipulate my emotions is still intact; I just wished there were more moments that echoed the heart-wrenching reality I experienced in Invisible. A good sequel should resonate deeply with the original, not feel like a passing glance back at it.
With a heavy heart, I can only afford Redes three stars. It’s a solid read but lacks the potency that made Invisible unforgettable. I still recommend it, especially for those who loved the original, but I wouldn’t shout it from the rooftops as I did with its predecessor.
Ultimately, Redes stands as a testament to how much we can cherish revisiting stories—yet it’s also a reminder that sometimes, the sequel doesn’t quite live up to the legacy of its big brother. For new readers stepping into Moreno’s world, Redes offers engaging tales that provoke thought about contemporary issues, but for devoted fans? It serves as a bittersweet continuation, leaving us longing for the fullness of the past.