08-11-2009, 10:44 AM
I've been wanting to read more magical realism. Marquez is generally recognized as king, and Mario Vargas Llosa is very good too. Both have taken me on some great trips. But I gave up on The General in His Labyrinth by Marquez, and then on The Feast on the Goat by Vargas Llosa, both for the same reason. They were about decrepit old military leaders slowly ceding control of their countries, and both were full of politics. Nothing can kill a book faster than a political message. As the old writer saw goes, "If you want to send a message, use Western Union."
Marquez and Vargas Llosa used to be great friends. In fact, early on, Vargas Llosa worshipped Marquez and studied him intently. They then hung out a lot together. But then something happened, and the two giants haven't talked to each other in over 30 years. It's always been a mystery what happened. But the truth is starting to come out. Here's what appears to have happened. Vargas Llosa, ever the skirt chaser, abandoned his wife to go off to Europe with a blonde airline stewardess. His devastated wife met with Marquez to ask for his advice. He told her she should leave Vargas Llosa. He then consoled her. Exactly what "consoling" consisted of isn't clear. Anyway, when Vargas Llosa got back, his wife told him what Marquez had advised her to do, and she might even have mentioned being consoled.
Anyway, the two giants next crossed paths at the premiere of that movie about the soccer players who crashed in the Andes and had to eat each other. When the lights went up at the end, Marquez stood up, turned around, spotted Vargas Llosa, and went back with open arms to embrace him (as they always did). Vargas Llosa slugged him in the jaw.
Oh, right. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Murakami is good. Very very good. A lot of strange things are going on, and there's a lot of very poignant characters. If I have any criticism, it is that the puzzle has too many pieces. Did it all fit together in the end? I really don't know. I would have to do an in-depth study of the book to see how well the pieces fit. As it stands, by the time you reach the end and understand -- sort of -- what's been going on, many of the details from early in the book have fuzzed.
The first half of this 600-page novel is rock solid. The last half suffers from the loss of 3 fascinating secondary characters, replaced by other less fascinating characters. Also, the last half takes too many side trips when I want to know what happens next. It felt a bit padded. Still, some of the tales embedded in this novel -- especially those having to do with Japanese soldiers in Manchuria -- are poignant, ghastly and brilliant.
Yeah. Murakami is brilliant. Any criticisms I've made are far outweighed by his strengths. This was my first exposure to him. Now I'll have to check out some of his other stuff, like Kafka on the Shore, Sputnik Sweetheart, The Elephant Vanishes, and Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World.
Marquez and Vargas Llosa used to be great friends. In fact, early on, Vargas Llosa worshipped Marquez and studied him intently. They then hung out a lot together. But then something happened, and the two giants haven't talked to each other in over 30 years. It's always been a mystery what happened. But the truth is starting to come out. Here's what appears to have happened. Vargas Llosa, ever the skirt chaser, abandoned his wife to go off to Europe with a blonde airline stewardess. His devastated wife met with Marquez to ask for his advice. He told her she should leave Vargas Llosa. He then consoled her. Exactly what "consoling" consisted of isn't clear. Anyway, when Vargas Llosa got back, his wife told him what Marquez had advised her to do, and she might even have mentioned being consoled.
Anyway, the two giants next crossed paths at the premiere of that movie about the soccer players who crashed in the Andes and had to eat each other. When the lights went up at the end, Marquez stood up, turned around, spotted Vargas Llosa, and went back with open arms to embrace him (as they always did). Vargas Llosa slugged him in the jaw.
Oh, right. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Murakami is good. Very very good. A lot of strange things are going on, and there's a lot of very poignant characters. If I have any criticism, it is that the puzzle has too many pieces. Did it all fit together in the end? I really don't know. I would have to do an in-depth study of the book to see how well the pieces fit. As it stands, by the time you reach the end and understand -- sort of -- what's been going on, many of the details from early in the book have fuzzed.
The first half of this 600-page novel is rock solid. The last half suffers from the loss of 3 fascinating secondary characters, replaced by other less fascinating characters. Also, the last half takes too many side trips when I want to know what happens next. It felt a bit padded. Still, some of the tales embedded in this novel -- especially those having to do with Japanese soldiers in Manchuria -- are poignant, ghastly and brilliant.
Yeah. Murakami is brilliant. Any criticisms I've made are far outweighed by his strengths. This was my first exposure to him. Now I'll have to check out some of his other stuff, like Kafka on the Shore, Sputnik Sweetheart, The Elephant Vanishes, and Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World.
I'm nobody's pony.
