This was the perfect book to read at lunch, other than all the description of entrails and viscera. I’m still emotionally recovering from NXT Takeover: R(evolution) last night, and if you’ll let me rant for one moment about professional wrestling, I will say only that it was perfect. If you want to understand why I love wrestling so much, you should watch it. That’s how storytelling works.
And conveniently, so is this. While it’s not the longest book, the way that Marquez withholds information, doles and parcels it out, is exactly why I loved last night’s wrestling show so much. My emotional recovery from Sami Zayn’s victory and subsequent betrayal was aided hugely by reading this book. Which is actually pretty impressive, because people write doctoral dissertations on books like this. And I read it like a summertime detective beach read. Few books can do both. And hey, part of why I was never an English major is that I don’t get that much joy out of analyzing biblical metaphors, you know?
Other assorted thoughts: Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote a hell of a first sentence. I want to see the musical version of this book. This book was paced brilliantly, and the backwards plot went well with the cheddar-pepper scone I ate for lunch, although the scone was a bit dry.
Books read: 16