Tres cuentos mágicos

I’ll admit, I was skeptical when this audiobook’s runtime first popped up—three hours of dense, symbolic prose seemed like a heavy lift. But Durán’s narration pulled me in from the opening line, his voice wrapping around Jodorowsky’s baroque imagery like smoke curling around a candle. The first story, about a prince turned toad by his own mother’s cruelty, is grotesque and haunting, its cruelty balanced by a darkly hilarious twist. Durán sells it, shifting from simpering royal indignation to the rasping croak of a trapped creature with eerie precision. The second tale, a village’s collective guilt manifesting as a rising tide, is where the audiobook truly shines. Durán’s chorus-like recitation of the villagers’ lament sends chills down your spine, his delivery transforming a static story into something communal and chilling. My only quibble? The third story, about a man’s shadow becoming a seductive stranger, feels underdeveloped compared to the others. The ideas are sharp, but the execution drags a bit, and Durán’s performance can’t fully compensate for the thinness of the narrative. Still, the production quality is impeccable—crisp, with no audible distractions—and the translation (presumably) keeps Jodorowsky’s voice intact. If you crave stories that linger like a bruise, this is your audiobook.