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The breakdown:
Leaf Storm was pretty good. The story centers a small cast of characters dealing with the shameful burial of a despised doctor. Marquez really captured the gossiping nature of Latinos. We really know how to shame people behind their backs. The perspective changes made the story somewhat disorienting, but if you just go with it, you'll enjoy what's there.
No One Writes to the Colonel is a story about dignity and hope dying in poverty. A husband and wife hang on to the memories of their murdered son and the anticipation of a pension check from the military. Again Marquez nails the Latino character of self-deluding patience, suffering quietly for something that will obviously never come. My only gripe was a ending that robbed me of any closure. It just ended. This should have been extended into a full novel, instead of driving off a cliff.
Chronicle of Death Foretold was a descriptive beating. Here Marquez does what he does worst: belaboring the setting, always explaining and everything happening at a snail's crawl. This had me tapping out before the halfway point.
Taken as a collection, this book is decent at best. The stories felt as if they were running starts to a One Hundred Years of Solitude. Each novella was well grounded with lots of cultural substance, but each time they ended on a weak note. I was hoping for something on the level of Love in the Time of Cholera. These novellas are worth reading after you've exhausted his stronger works.
Leaf Storm was pretty good. The story centers a small cast of characters dealing with the shameful burial of a despised doctor. Marquez really captured the gossiping nature of Latinos. We really know how to shame people behind their backs. The perspective changes made the story somewhat disorienting, but if you just go with it, you'll enjoy what's there.
No One Writes to the Colonel is a story about dignity and hope dying in poverty. A husband and wife hang on to the memories of their murdered son and the anticipation of a pension check from the military. Again Marquez nails the Latino character of self-deluding patience, suffering quietly for something that will obviously never come. My only gripe was a ending that robbed me of any closure. It just ended. This should have been extended into a full novel, instead of driving off a cliff.
Chronicle of Death Foretold was a descriptive beating. Here Marquez does what he does worst: belaboring the setting, always explaining and everything happening at a snail's crawl. This had me tapping out before the halfway point.
Taken as a collection, this book is decent at best. The stories felt as if they were running starts to a One Hundred Years of Solitude. Each novella was well grounded with lots of cultural substance, but each time they ended on a weak note. I was hoping for something on the level of Love in the Time of Cholera. These novellas are worth reading after you've exhausted his stronger works.