Helpful Score: 1
Its been a long time, but I seem to recall liking One Hundred Years of Solitude, whereas I found this glorified romance novel to be very trying (even boring) and hoped it would just end as I skipped over whole paragraphs. Having lost hope that the storyline, set in turn-of-the-century Colombia, would develop into something other than a decades-long wait for one single-minded, romantic pervert, Florentino Ariza, to finally consummate his unbelievable obsession for the beauty who rejected him in their youth, I endured the unsavory details of Florentino Ariza's 600+ clandestine love affairs through the years- including one with his 14-year old relative he took guardianship over- at the height of his old age! Is that really necessary?
Though the language was beautiful, the subject grew more and more sickening and the plot and characters rather fizzled out, having no real substance. By the end, all the satellite characters had either died, been killed, killed themselves, or were banished into exile, clearing the way for the impotent climax and unsatisfying ending of the two misty-eyed septuagenarians just sailing off into the choleric sunset together. An epic tale of having one's cake and eating it, too.
There were also many loose ends that were never taken up again, which could have lent more to the story, such as the ongoing civil war, how the doctor came to know his suicidal chess mate (I kept looking for him to reappear), what the father's shady dealings really were, how the picture of the two cousins ended up in the marketplace, the greatly anticipated marriage that never took place, and who sent Fermina Daza all that hate mail! Well, I guess we'll never know.
Though the language was beautiful, the subject grew more and more sickening and the plot and characters rather fizzled out, having no real substance. By the end, all the satellite characters had either died, been killed, killed themselves, or were banished into exile, clearing the way for the impotent climax and unsatisfying ending of the two misty-eyed septuagenarians just sailing off into the choleric sunset together. An epic tale of having one's cake and eating it, too.
There were also many loose ends that were never taken up again, which could have lent more to the story, such as the ongoing civil war, how the doctor came to know his suicidal chess mate (I kept looking for him to reappear), what the father's shady dealings really were, how the picture of the two cousins ended up in the marketplace, the greatly anticipated marriage that never took place, and who sent Fermina Daza all that hate mail! Well, I guess we'll never know.
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