The strength of the meaning of transgression that is developed in the book and the transgression of the writing itself make me want to transgress the format and style of this review and reflect for a moment on the issue of perspective from my own point of view: as an architect who has researched Lima's urban renewal in the city's hidden and disordered archives; as a non-Peruvian who has lived in the city for a long time and during the same period that [Daniella Gandolfo]'s book focuses on and who has also felt this tension between belonging and being an outsider; and as a writer who has reflected a great deal on the concept of place and the value of the outsider's perspective. Gandolfo indulges in Arguedas' writing, experiences the atmosphere it creates, and is touched by the way his "characters surge into intensity" (2 1 5) while she is on a plane traveling back from Lima to the US. Similarly, I was reading her book (at least partly) also while traveling. From a distance, while I was flying over Genoa, Italy, and overlooking the city's rainy harbour, I could literally feel what Gandolfo's father's melancholic thoughts must have been as he overlooked Avenida Pardo from his the window of his 12th-floor apartment in a building that had replaced the family's first small house. The impression I had of the father's melancholy then was much more vivid than that which I experienced during some of the foggy September evenings when I was in Lima some months ago and actually passed by the original location of the father's house. I was in the Miraflores district and from up close could observe its high-rise modernity, which during the recent economic boom has crossed the line into the complete replacement of this neighborhood's identify.