I almost gave up on this book several times within the first 50 or 150 pages. However, I'm glad I persevered.

To be honest, around 40% of this work is truly bad and monotonous to read. This includes all of the sex scenes, which account for approximately 30% of the book, and the narrator's really strange and disturbing fixation on the protagonist's member, taking up another 10%.

Nevertheless, the remaining 60% is amazingly good. It features beautiful, evocative, and lyrical writing about NYC in the 1950s and 60s, as well as Cuba in the 1930s and 40s. The author also delves into the life of Cuban musicians and immigrant families in NYC, painting a vivid picture of that whole social and cultural milieu. When he writes about these things, or about food, or music, the writing reaches a level that is as good as it gets in fiction.

It's a shame, I suppose. Maybe all the crudity and monotony in 40% of the book is some sort of literary device intended to convey... something? But if that's the case, it didn't have the desired effect on me. I still have to give it 3 stars due to the outstanding quality of some of it. It's too bad because I thought a lot of this had the potential to be a 5-star book. And there's definitely no justifiable reason for a story this simple to be 400 pages long.

A very good book in some ways but you will read a LOT about Cesar's "big thing", Priapus erectus giganticus. Someone wrote in their review that the book seems to be about Cesar's penis. Yes, yes, I have to agree. The "pinga" that wouldn't quit. It was his source of happiness and unhappiness from the earliest adolescence through his old age (and he doesn't even get that old as he abuses his body with his excesses). When his girlfriend no longer wants him, that is it for him, life over. He has his music, his love for his family, his brother, his friends, work....but mostly you will hear about his sex.

Nevertheless, I found this book very well written. Here I am in the middle of another book and still coming back to comment some more on my review, still watching mambo videos on YouTube. The book won't leave me alone. There is something to be said for a book that grabs the reader that firmly and doesn't let go.

Cesar and his brother Nestor are Cuban musicians in the era of mambo dance orchestras. They come to the United States as young men and find some success, even making a guest appearance on the I Love Lucy Show playing in Ricky Ricardo's band at the Tropicana. However, neither is a happy man. Nestor pines for an old girlfriend who left him in Cuba and married her old boyfriend, even though he marries a loving and patient woman in the U.S. and fathers two children with her. The man is melancholy for all his days. Cesar is a macho man; he is very excessive in sex, food, drink and tobacco. Both the brothers are dynamic musicians, but both are killing themselves with their inability to find happiness with what they have. Cesar was married but couldn't leave other women alone or appreciate his wife. It is Cesar we follow through his youth and the process of aging, and it is very sad sometimes. In many ways it is just life and we can all relate. Beautifully written.

The real strength of the Pulitzer Prize winning The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love lies in its language. It is written so beautifully that it has the power to both mesmerize and break your heart. It flawlessly re-creates the world of Spanish Harlem in the late 1940s and 1950s.

Two brothers, Cesar and Nestor Castillo, journey from Cuba to New York to embark on a new life as musicians. Eventually, they start a band called the Mambo Kings.

The story is told retrospectively, mainly by Cesar when he is an old man, slowly drinking himself to death in the Hotel Splendor. He sits there, reliving the life he and Nestor had, both in Cuba and in America. The reader is presented with a contrasting picture of the two brothers. Nestor is shy and melancholy. Even though he is married to Delores, he still mourns his lost love, Maria, who left him long ago. On the other hand, Cesar is outgoing and determinedly macho. He remembers every woman he ever had sex with, every plate of food he ate, and every glass of beer he drank. It is Cesar that the book mainly focuses on, his joy in life and his exuberance. However, all of this changes after Nestor dies, and Cesar struggles to adjust to life without him. He begins to take on more of Nestor's melancholy nature.

While Mambo Kings has its flaws. The plot is loosely structured, and the novel could have benefited from a good editing. Since a significant portion of it is based on endless description, it can be repetitive and long-winded. Editing would have tightened it up, but the writing is so excellent that it can be challenging to decide what to cut. In fact, some parts are repeated word for word several times. Then there's the rather excessive focus on Cesar's penis. I'm not a prude, and I understand that the sexual descriptions were meant to emphasize Cesar's machismo nature. However, to be honest, it almost seemed as if this aspect should have had a name of its own. It received more character development and description than any of the female characters in the entire book. Loving descriptions of its size, its appearance, where it went, and what it did made it seem like a third major character to me. Nevertheless, despite these flaws, nothing can overshadow the wonderful nature of this superbly written novel that captures life in all its vivid color and sound. Perhaps we could take half a star off for the excessive penis talk, but overall, it is a remarkable work.

I recently read an enjoyable and entertaining historical fiction novel that is set in the 1950s to 1970s, with the majority of the story taking place in New York.

The novel is about two Cuban brothers who are musicians. By day, they work, and by night, they become popular dance hall stars. Their orchestra is one of many during that time that played mambo rhythmic dance music.

Cesar Castillo, the leader singer, is a womaniser and an extremely confident person. His brother Nestor, a trumpet player and songwriter, is a quiet and moody guy. The Castillo brothers began their musical careers in Cuba in the 1940s and decided to move to New York in 1949 in search of fame.

The strength of this book lies in its well-developed characters and interesting plot, with a lot happening throughout the story. However, the writing style can be a bit cringeworthy at times, especially when it comes to the descriptions of sex scenes. For example, \\"When he'd taken his clothes off, his erection leapt out into the world...\\" and \\"Betty squirmed and twisted, grinding herself into the bed, and then, as her body flushed and her face turned the color of a spring rose, she came too.\\"

Despite these drawbacks, I really enjoyed getting to know the two brothers. There are many flashbacks to earlier times in their lives, which add depth to their characters. The narrative is in the third person, but at times, it feels like the author is taking on the persona of the character he is writing about and writing from their perspective.

Cesar Castillo is a man of many contradictions. He is a womaniser, a misogynist, egotistical, overbearing, yet also friendly, generous, loving, kind, and thoughtful. He treats women as sex objects, and sex is very important to him. In many instances, the women are treated poorly, which some readers may find too distasteful and objectionable. Sadly, I expect this was how many men treated women in the 1950s.

Nestor Castillo has a negative reaction when his wife says she wants to study and work. His comments to her include the statement, \\"do you want to shame me?\\"

As first-generation immigrants, Cesar and Nestor mainly mix with other Cuban immigrants and help new Cuban immigrants by offering them short-term accommodation and jobs.

Overall, this is an interesting story about Cuban musicians and immigrants settling in New York. The book touches on a number of issues, including memory, family, family relationships, love, and sex. It is the winner of the 1990 Pulitzer Prize and is a very worthwhile read.

Like clockwork, there is highly viscous, graphic coitus every 3 - 5 pages in this book.

It's as if the author has a set pattern of inserting these explicit and detailed sexual descriptions at regular intervals.

One might wonder if this is the sole focus of the book or if it serves some other purpose within the narrative.

However, the frequency and explicitness of these scenes are quite remarkable.

It makes one question whether such content is necessary to convey the story or if it is simply being used for shock value or to attract a certain readership.

Nonetheless, it has caught the attention and perhaps even sparked some controversy.

And yet, despite all this, some might argue that it is this very aspect that gives the book its unique charm and could potentially earn it the Pulitzer Prize.

But is a book worthy of such a prestigious award based solely on its graphic sexual content? That is a question that remains to be seen.

This book won the Pulitzer Prize in 1990.

The main character in the book is a musician from Cuba, who is nicknamed "The Mambo King". In his twenties, he achieved his 15 minutes of fame by performing on television. It was a glorious moment for him, and he became the center of attention.

However, for the rest of his life, he tried hard to recapture that fame but without any success. He kept on struggling, hoping to relive that辉煌的瞬间. But as time went by, he gradually realized that those 15 minutes were just a fleeting moment, and it was impossible to get them back.

It is really sad to see someone defined by an event so early in life. He seemed to be trapped in that moment, unable to move forward. Although the book has its own charm, I still give it 2 stars because the story is a bit too tragic for me.

Thought I had read this years ago;

apparently not or I started it and didn’t finish.

Finished it now even though I didn’t like it much and it was a struggle.

The Mambo Kings are brothers, musicians who leave Cuba for New York in the early 1950s to find fame and fortune.

One brother, Nestor, spends most of his time crying over his lost love Maria even though he’s married to someone else.

The other brother, Cesar, spends most of his time drinking, having sex with anyone who will have him or thinking about sex.

The brothers do achieve some fame.

They make an appearance on the I Love Lucy show which we read about over and over again.

The book is too long, too repetitive and actually became tiresome.

I can’t believe it won the Pulitzer.

It seems that the story, while perhaps having some interesting elements, fails to hold my attention due to its length and repetitiveness.

The characters, especially Cesar, come across as rather one-dimensional with their excessive focus on drinking and sex.

Nestor’s constant moping about Maria also gets old after a while.

The one redeeming factor might be their appearance on the famous I Love Lucy show, but even that is overemphasized.

Overall, it’s a disappointment that this book won such a prestigious award.

One reviewer pens,

"This book is filled with nostalgia, exudes an exotic charm, is erotic and has a narcotic quality. It is a truly beautiful piece of work, and I have gone back to it numerous times. Each time, I am completely overcome emotionally by it. With just the words on the page, the author manages to create the melodies of the Mambo era, the scents of rural Cuban cane fields, the sweat of a dance hall, and the swelter of a New York City summer. The two main characters, Cesar and Nestor, love in completely different, yet utterly compelling ways. For Nestor, love is an ideal, unattainable and a cause of nothing but pain. Cesar, on the other hand, loves all of womankind with an insatiable thirst. If Nestor is like a Keats poem, Cesar is like a Marvin Gaye album. I did not find the book sexist, as some have alleged. Instead, I found it unabashedly sensual, as sensual as the music, culture, and era it celebrates. If your greatest erogenous zone is your mind, then read The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love. If living a life drenched in passion and pleasure to its fullest capacity is a belief you adhere to, then read this book. If you enjoy rich storytelling, you will surely like this book."

I would further add that Hijuelos successfully shares a life immersed in Latin passion - so much charanga, lovemaking, feasting, and cono! - that the protagonist is eventually smothered by sensation. And for the second half of the book, you ache as much as he does to return to the former exhilarating glory of his golden years. Reading this book seems to be almost as painful as being this bloated lothario, with his bright conquests and shimmery dreams streaming through until he slips into his final canción.

Utterly disappointing.

The misogyny present in this work is simply to the extreme. There are no female characters who play any role other than serving the happiness of men. It's as if they are mere accessories.

If this were written in the first person, perhaps it could be somewhat acceptable as it might be indicative of the characters' viewpoints. However, either Hijuelos believes that women don't have opinions, thoughts, and beliefs that matter, or he assumes that his readers aren't interested in hearing them.

The example of Lucille Ball being reduced to a voiceless ornament is truly disheartening. She only taps her watch when she wants to leave and otherwise says or does nothing throughout a long evening. This was the final straw for me.

It's a real shame because Hijuelos has the ability to create gorgeous descriptions of music, places, and emotions. These talents could have been used to create something truly special and profound.

The only redeeming qualities are the portions about life in Cuba and the post-war New York nightlife. These sections offer some glimmers of interest in an otherwise deeply flawed work.

Overall, this is a major disappointment that fails to do justice to the potential of its subject matter and the author's writing skills.

An interesting meditation of life, family and mortality unfolds before us. It is told by a garrulous 62-year-old guy, soaked in whisky and puffing on a Havana cigar as he indulges in reminiscence. And I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed it.

The story revolves around two brothers from Cuba, Cesar and Nestor Castillo. They come to New York with dreams of achieving fame and fortune as mambo musicians. The brothers are young, impoverished, and like all youths, consumed by thoughts of sex and partying. It is truly remarkable to witness their growth as the novel progresses. Especially Nestor, who evolves from a love-struck fool in rural Cuba to a man in Havana and finally to a father in New York.

However, Nestor is far from perfect. He denies his intelligent wife Dolores the "right" to attend college. In the macho Cuban-American culture, this act would bring shame upon Nestor. Nevertheless, although he adheres to this ethic, he still has the decency to apologize to her for having to deny her.

This is a stroke of genius. Just like the scene where Dolores mopes around Columbia's campus, drawn in by the books and pretending to "fit in."

Cesar, on the other hand, remains more static. Instead of maturing and getting married, he persists in living the life of a twenty-something long past his prime. Rather than confronting his mortality and lack of love directly, he hides from reality in alcohol and empty sexual conquests, which become increasingly difficult to achieve as he ages.

Hijuelos' language is evocative, sensual, and emotional. At times, I couldn't help but think of Spanish-language soaps, which can pack more melodrama into prime-time than our more subdued Anglo culture. Often to our disadvantage.

All in all, it is a very enjoyable read. I felt that the second half of the novel dragged a bit as Cesar mourned his lost youth and approaching demise. And while his preoccupation with his genitals was amusing at first, it eventually got a bit tiresome. But then again, Cesar is Cesar, and Hijuelos' characterization is quite believable.

By the way, if you do find yourself put off by the middle sections, I encourage you to persevere. Because the end includes Desi Arnaz, Lucille Ball, and perhaps the best bit of Magical Realism this side of Marquez. This redeems the novel, rescuing it from the doldrums of the middle.

Highly recommended as a portrait of a group of immigrants in the 1950s, complete with a healthy dose of sex and music.

Through the initial 50 pages, I had my doubts about whether I would bother to complete this book. It delved into a great deal of detail regarding the Cuban music scene during the 1950s, when Desi Arnaz was a prominent Cuban American icon. However, as the narrative unfolds, the author showcases remarkable talent in塑造 the main characters. This is achieved through the accounts of their lives in New York, along with some insights into their early days in Cuba. The story weaves back and forth in time, as the memories of the main characters are seamlessly integrated with the central storyline. I was impressed by how this was executed in a natural and fluid manner, demonstrating精湛的 craftsmanship. The writing is of such a high standard, consistent and highly effective. There is nothing ostentatious or fantastical; rather, it is the slow and captivating development of character and culture, accomplished with incredible skill. That being said, I suspect that this book may not have broad appeal for various reasons. This might be the sole factor that prevented me from awarding it a "five" rating. My wife inquired whether this book would be suitable for one of her book clubs. My response was, "I don't think so." Nevertheless, the book is a Pulitzer Prize winner, and I firmly believe it is more than worthy of that accolade.

I wasn't anticipating quite such a large number of throbbing penises.

The Mambo Kings turned out to be a rather good read.

I have very little patience for those page-long spasms that descend into stream-of-consciousness after having a triple espresso. It just seems too gimmicky to me.

However, that was only a very small portion of the book.

I was pleasantly astonished by how much suspense the author was able to generate towards the end.

It's not overly plot-driven, so you truly need to slow down and read it carefully in order to understand what the author is attempting to achieve.

In that regard, it bears a resemblance to Garcia Marquez.

The story unfolds in a more leisurely pace, allowing the reader to soak in the atmosphere and the characters' emotions.

It's a book that rewards those who are willing to invest the time and effort to fully appreciate its nuances.

Overall, I'm glad I picked up The Mambo Kings and gave it a chance.