I spent the last two days of my life quite bored. Yesterday, I visited a library over in Leominster and spent almost three hours indulging in the almost symphonic prose of the great literature of one Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I did this on Wednesday as well. Yesterday, I read "A Chronicle of a Death Foretold"; on Wednesday; "Memories of My Melancholy Whores". The latter I read in the Fitchburg Public Library, the former in Leominster's. Leominster definitely has the better Library, as it carries an almost Barnes and Noble feel to it, Fitchburg is more like a crappy bookstore.
With his story, "Memories of my Melancholy Whores",Marquez has this remarkable prose that even with a vulgar topic such as this story-a tale of a ninety year old who decides that, on "the eve" of his ninetieth birthday, to bed a virgin-an obvious beauty shines through in his writing.
The tale centers around a sort of anti-hero, whose name I don't believe is ever revealed. He is a washed up, retired journalist of no fame who has spent his life bedding whores with whom he "makes love without love", sometimes not even fully undressed.
The story follows him on his mission while he recounts his life. In true Marquezian fashion, the tale is filled with a very original prose which is so fluid that to stop reading is almost impossible. I read this at the library in about 3 hours...much to the chagrin of library lurkers-of which there is few in my new local library.
I would highly recommend this book...whether or not you know Marquez
As for "A Chronicle of a Death Foretold", What I learned was a)Marquez enjoys intermingling his stories-a couple of characters from "One Hundred Years in Solitude" make a reappearance here. b)Marquez has a fluidity in his writing that I can only dream of one day possessing and c)For a man who rarely ever ends a book well(I love him, but you know I'm right)this book will surprise.
The story is a retelling, after the fact, of a heinous crime in which despite the clarity of the suspects and victim and motives, a great deal of unanswered questions remain.
The story itself is told in first person, by the friend of the victim, in what appears to be a report of some sort; like a journalist trying to get at the heart of the matter. But this formula is undermined by the writer's use of ethereal metaphor; a trademark of Marquez's Magical Realism. The writer is hardly concerned with discovering the truth-it's obvious that the truth is already found--but more with understanding the motives, and exposing further the many failings that it took to create the crime.
In essence, the "Death" was "Foretold", but nobody listened. Marquez has a way of making even this magical. If you like anything by Garcia Marquez, you will "love" this story.
Also, a master of the short novel, at 120 pages, you will barrel right through this story; I finished this in just shy of 3 hours--and I enjoyed every minute
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