[In the following review, Peaco argues that, despite the novel's “promising” subject material, The Nanny and the Iceberg suffers from Dorfman's “inelegant treatment of women and sex, and tedious rendering of rants from all corners of Chilean politics.”]

Dorfman assembles promising materials for this novel [The Nanny and the Iceberg]. Family turmoil: Chilean expatriates Gabriel McKenzie, 23, and his mother return from New York seeking reconciliation with father/husband, Cristobal, who is trying to win a bet by engaging in heterosexual sex every day until age 50. Coming of age struggle: Gabriel seeks paternal communion to resolve sexual dysfunction stemming from his father's reputation. Political intrigue: Someone is threatening to bomb the iceberg Chile will tow to Seville, Spain, for the 1992 Columbian celebration; Gabriel's nanny is both suspect and detective. Intricate plotting: Domestic, political and historical conspiracies nest within each other. But, sadly, Dorfman mishandles these materials. Gabriel tells the story as a suicide note as he plots to destroy himself and those he blames for his psychological scars. But he is an annoying narrator, often relating experience in the coarse language of a sex-starved frat boy from Revenge of the Nerds. Nor is Gabriel alone in his artlessness; when Cristobal at last instructs his son in the art of love, Dad only offers crude tips on how to score. The work suffers chronically from inelegant treatment of women and sex, and tedious rendering of rants from all corners of Chilean politics. The novel attempts to parody or satirize machismo, tangled post-fascist Latin American politics, and overwrought tales of conspiracy. But no voice in the novel dares to stand up to the folly of the characters or to the language itself (Gabriel actually considers his father's tips good advice, as far as they go). The reader must supply the winks and the nods, the necessary ironic or moral force that makes literature challenging. But since when is this the reader's job?