Between afternoon naps and learning how to make text animations in Adobe Flash, I finished Memories of My Melancholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Twisted, yes, but beautifully crafted. Upon finishing, I immediately returned to the beginning and started a second reading.
I had originally set out to read his One Hundred Years of Solitude, as it's been on my reading list since forever. Although, while at the bookstore I started thinking, if Memories is to Nabokov's Lolita, then maybe One Hundred is to Ada, or Ador, psyching myself out.
I had originally set out to read his One Hundred Years of Solitude, as it's been on my reading list since forever. Although, while at the bookstore I started thinking, if Memories is to Nabokov's Lolita, then maybe One Hundred is to Ada, or Ador, psyching myself out.
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