So this week Friday Fiction is...
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Slightly confusingly, this book starts out as a love story between a man and his wife, happily toddles along for a bit, and then turns into a completely different love story, if you can call it that. Basically one guy just mopes about for his ENTIRE LIFE, before the rubbishy woman he's been pining over finally gives up and loves him back, but not before he prepositions her on the day her husband dies, and not before he has sex with EVERYONE else ever. What a classy guy.
Neither of them are very likable - they're both self absorbed flakes who don't really know what they want from life, and nothing much really happens either, apart from ALL THE SEX, so I'm not sure when this one turned in to such a 'classic'. Excuse the capitals, but the story kind of sucked. The writing on the other hand was pretty awesome, so I haven't written Marquez off just yet - I've read that '...Solitude' is better? I read it really quickly, but only because I'd had it out for about a year and the library kind of frowns on that and wanted it back, I didn't really care how it ended. It was quite a mixed bag really, but a bit of a yawn-fest.
Did I miss the great love story or did you think they were a pair of whiners who deserved each other too? Is '...Solitude' any better? Let me know what you think!