Shaman

George Orlando’s narration is the secret weapon of *Shaman*. He doesn’t just read the words—he inhabits the worlds Castaneda created, his tone veering from hushed reverence when recounting the guru’s most outlandish claims to a dry, almost mocking edge when dissecting the man’s later years. There’s a delicious tension in his delivery, especially during the book’s climactic sections, where the line between devotion and delusion feels razor-thin. Sager’s writing shines in how it balances the absurdity of Castaneda’s story with its very real, if misguided, impact on a generation of seekers. The audiobook’s pacing is relentless, mirroring the speed at which Castaneda’s fame ballooned—and then collapsed under the weight of his own contradictions. That said, there are moments where the book’s structure feels a bit scattershot, jumping between time periods without enough connective tissue. And while Orlando’s performance is strong, there were a couple of instances where his cadence stumbled over Sager’s more florid descriptions, making some passages feel like they were written in a haze of patchouli and ego. Still, this is a gripping listen that’ll leave you questioning who the real shaman was—and whether it even matters. It’s a story about belief, power, and the stories we tell ourselves when we’re desperate for meaning.