I will have you know that most of the people who suggested this book to me were of the same brand of numb-nuts who thought Paulo Coelho and his 'The Alchemist' were the most amazing contributions to modern literature. Sorry, sorry, I did not know Marquez is to Spanish literature as balsamic vinegar is to Italian cuisine.
It is sad indeed, that the new generation who must discover on their own, while having to sieve through the neo-garbage like "Veronica Decides To Die", have to suffer the humiliation of genuinely having their perceptions rearranged by older well-wishers.
Carlos Ruiz Zaffon and Lois de Bernieres are perhaps thus far my greatest discoveries of contemporary literature. Both have spell-binding techniques, poetry-drenched words and characters that pit you against your capacity to comprehend emotion that which you might feel and not necessarily understand. Modern literature for me is incomplete without them.
I will not leave Orhan Pamuk unmentioned for the sake of not servicing a cliche.
He won a Nobel Prize for literature. What more could he require to be said for his contribution to the literary world?
Anyway. I procured a copy of A Hundred Years of Solitude. I shall devour it to the content of the scanner in my eye-balls. My horizon is now going to be broadened and I am reclaiming my right to be a reader.
(Yes well, he who gave me Marquez was unread in Umberto Eco)
It is sad indeed, that the new generation who must discover on their own, while having to sieve through the neo-garbage like "Veronica Decides To Die", have to suffer the humiliation of genuinely having their perceptions rearranged by older well-wishers.
Carlos Ruiz Zaffon and Lois de Bernieres are perhaps thus far my greatest discoveries of contemporary literature. Both have spell-binding techniques, poetry-drenched words and characters that pit you against your capacity to comprehend emotion that which you might feel and not necessarily understand. Modern literature for me is incomplete without them.
I will not leave Orhan Pamuk unmentioned for the sake of not servicing a cliche.
He won a Nobel Prize for literature. What more could he require to be said for his contribution to the literary world?
Anyway. I procured a copy of A Hundred Years of Solitude. I shall devour it to the content of the scanner in my eye-balls. My horizon is now going to be broadened and I am reclaiming my right to be a reader.
(Yes well, he who gave me Marquez was unread in Umberto Eco)
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