Like G.G. Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, this book is definitely not for people with ADD, i.e. North Americans, in general.  The language is languid to the point of feeling like one has gotten a lobotomy without having felt the scalpel.

It took me four months to read this book piecemeal on the morning and afternoon train to and from my job.  Having gone on an iPod diet for Lent I got much farther with the book than expected in the last few weeks and finally finished it last night. 

I have to admit that Marquez is better when you can really concetrate on what is happening because I could get lost within a half page.  What do you mean he’s having an affair with someone else now?  And really, was it 622 affairs as the description says above? (See Visual Bookshelf..probably the only good thing about Facebook).  He’s lucky he didn’t catch something.

As for Fermina, well, I still don’t believe she loved him, even in the end.

I won’t reread this one, but I’m glad to have said I’ve read it.