One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

This is another one of those books that I really ought to have read a long time ago. I’m torn, because I really like Gabrial Garcia Marquez’s style… but I also find him extraordinarily insufferable. Example: Memories of My Melancholy Whores, which I did not like and awarded an embarrassing two stars to on Goodreads.

All the same, I’m tempted to bring this edition home with me whenever I see it lonely in book shops and thrift stores – something about the cover design appeals to me on a basic level, for some reason. And yet how can I condone buying a book I’m pretty sure I won’t like all that much?

Answer: let a pal purchase the book for me as a gift. Now it’s mine and I have to read it!

I’m actually really curious – is this an experience other people have had with Gabriel Garcia Marquez? I try to play devil’s advocate for him as I read him, because, well, he won the Nobel Prize. But there are some (old-man sexist) things I have difficulty ignoring. Anyone else?


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