The lynchpin of A Book of Dreams is the narrative… Although the structure of the novel could be considered postmodern, it is not quite a postmodern novel. The parts of the novel may be given in fragments and assembled as a pastiche, but the novel’s drive is toward a story, which, though not obviously coherent, is nonetheless one that more or less gives sense to the dreams, hopes, and lives of the people inhabiting the fictional space of A Book of Dreams. The narrative drive—the search for the possibility of meaning-making through a story—betrays the underpinning project of the novel: to contribute to the construction of a story, not just for the lives of Angela’s friends, acquaintances, and her fictional characters in the tales, but for the nation as well…

In effect, the entire novel is Angela’s notebook—a collection of stories (long and short ones), fantasies, dreams, and “real” stories… about Angela’s friends and acquaintances. Thus, the novel is a way of “restoring meaning” to the Philippine nation… It is truly a woman’s “triumphant” imagination of the Philippines, which restores faith in both the living and the dead—not just in an individual’s ability to rise above personal suffering, but also in the Filipino people’s capacity to survive in the morass that is the Philippines.

— Ruth Jordana Luna Pison