Bolaño's collection, while impressive, does not hold up throughout. By far, the most engaging stories are in the first half, with the exception of the titular story, "The Return."
The stories that I found most impactful were, "Snow," "William Burns," "Detectives," "Joanna Silvestri," and "The Return." Each of these stories is unique from the other following a Chilean immigrant in Russia, a man whose paranoia results in the death of an innocent, two men in conversation about past events while on patrol, a porn actress who catches feelings, and a man who observes the treatment of his recently deceased body as a ghost (similar to stories by both Blasim and Keret), respectively. This variety of the collection is what is most remarkable. None of these tales feel like they are from the same author, in the best way. Bolaño appears as though he can shape shift as he explores the most raw features of the human condition from numerous perspectives.
Unfortunately for the collection as a whole, this shape shifting is not sustainable. The biggest deficit of this collection is the feeling of repetition that begins to occur regarding plot and subject matter, which begins to water down the stories in the first half that felt (upon first reading) so fresh and revived. Another deficit of the collection (for my personal taste) is half of a double-edged sword: Bolaño's vast knowledge of European and Russian literature and poetry. While this knowledge enhances some of the stories (like "Snow" where the protagonist is constantly trying to keep up with the literary knowledge of his criminal colleagues) by adding characterization, in others it completely detracts from the purpose of the story altogether (most notably in his story "Photos" which becomes nearly indecipherable at points due to the rattling of names). The ending result is a collection that is half magnificent and half droning and pretentious, a clear sign of what can happen if you take one trait too far.
