Friday, August 28, 2020

Love In The Time of Cholera

"Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can, because these things don't last your whole life."

Love in the Time of Cholera is funny, romantic, and wise about love in all its seasons: young, old, and in-between; in sickness and in health, etc.

But I also have to admit I had higher hopes for the book.

In the approved fashion, the book begins in medias res, or not exactly the middle since our main characters are in their 70s, but certainly not at the beginning nor at the end.

Fermina Daza and Dr. Juvenal Urbino are an old married couple. They're tender with each other, though she's getting frail and his memory is going. As an old married couple their relationship is not without its grumbles, but they still care for each other.

Then Dr. Urbino dies in a tragic, but also comic, accident involving a parrot.

Immediately after the funeral Florentino Ariza proposes to Fermina Daza. He's waited, he says, fifty-one years, nine months, and four days for this moment.

The chapter ends and the novel flashes back to when Florentino and Fermina first met as teenagers and they fell passionately in love. He lurks where she might see him; composes a violin sonata in her honor and plays where she might hear it; and most of all, writes her love letters, dropping them off where he knows she will find them.

Eventually Fermina's father gets wind of this budding romance and drags her off--Florentino is a bastard son and has yet to make his fortune--and Florentino is left in Colombia, heartbroken. (That's Florentino's mother quoted at the top.)

Trips to remote lands so that one party gets over some inappropriate love is a frequent trope in novels and we know how that works in general: it doesn't. Except this time it does. Fermina comes back two years later, looks at the badly dressed Florentino, figuratively slaps her forehead, and says, "What was I thinking!" 

At the end of the book, the novel returns to the now mature romance of Fermina and Florentino. This newly refounded romance surprises, and is also handled with tenderness and humor.

It's all the stuff in the middle I had my doubts about. Florentino makes his everlasting pile in the steamboat business. That was expected. He romances some vast binder of women--we're given a number--but all that flesh never diminishes his longing for the lost Fermina. (Well, maybe once, a little bit, but before long he returns to Fermina even in his thoughts.) It was not very convincing, but worse: I thought it was dull. I'd have liked better a book that was a hundred pages shorter with less incidencing in the middle.

Ah, well. Gabriel Garcia Marquez was a Nobel prize winner and I'm a...blogger. Maybe I'm wrong...

The Other Reader read the book earlier in the year and liked it better than I did. One question we discussed was how seriously were we to take Florentino's writing talents. I thought we were to assume he was effective: the start of Fermina's love is with the letters. Well, they were teenagers, perhaps not especially discriminating, but it certainly wasn't his clothes, or his looks, or his manners that Fermina found engaging. Later we learn that Florentino writes love letters for hire in town; they work; and several love matches are engendered by the letters he wrote. He becomes the godfather to a child whose parental romance he facilitated. The widowed Fermina is appalled by Florentino's proposal after the funeral; understandably; Florentino is balding and constipated and not the substance of love, but it's his written philosophical meditations on mortality that first put Fermina back on the hook.

The Other Reader, though, argued that none of these people are especially discerning; that we're told Florentino read everything, even the worst sort of romantic trash, and modelled his love letters on that. 

I dunno. I suppose a book that people can read differently in serious ways has something going for it. 

If you've read it, what did you think?

15 comments:

  1. i've read 3 or 4 of Borges' works but not any Marquez... it might be okay; i guess i'll have to try one and find out... i've got a lot of ignorance as regards Latin writers; i open one of their books occasionally but so far nothing i've seen has capivated... even though i have a little Espanol...

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    1. I've read a couple of other Garcia Marquez, but I like Borges much better.

      I'm pretty fond of Bolaño's Savage Detectives, though.

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    2. Bolaño and Borges are much > than García Marketing, agreed!

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  2. I've never been a huge fan of books that flash back to the character's pasts for the majority of the book, but I can see why the author chose to do it for this one. Still not sure I want to read it.

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    1. It makes sense in this one, especially as it gives him the chance to show a couple of twists. If only the middle hadn't been so loooong...

      Not that it was that long a book really.

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  3. Hmmmm I have this on the TBR pile & I've been told it's a more accessible read than 100 Hundred Yrs of Solitude, which I enjoyed with some reservations too. Yet to try any Borges or Bolano...

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    1. The same as you--I heard this was more approachable than Hundred Years of Solitude. And it's true: I definitely liked this better, though it's been years since I read Solitude. But I wasn't that taken with Solitude when I read it.

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  4. Hmmm .... I own a first edition of this book but have never had the desire to read it. Perhaps a light curiosity but, based on your review, I feel comfortable to pass it by. Good for you for the attempt though!

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    1. I'd hate to say don't read it & there were definitely funny/touching things in it. But it often gets praised to the skies and I'm not sure about that.

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  5. I tend to like stories with themes about romance, so I wonder if I might like this more than you. Despite your reservations about it, I think I will add it to my Someday List.

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    1. I certainly wouldn't want to discourage you from reading it!

      I liked the romantic parts the best; it's just that I wished that was all there was.

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  6. I read this so many years ago that I can barely remember any specifics to my reaction. I think it was somewhere between yours and the Other Reader's. García Márquez is way less than a fave for me although I hope to revisit his work one of these days (possibly some of his nonfiction, which I quite enjoyed).

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    1. Of what I've read I like the non-fiction best as well. Shipwrecked Sailor impressed when I read it.

      There's that new book--I've only read a review--about how he became the phenom he now is. I wonder how much of it was marketing.

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  7. What impressed me were all the smells, with references from aromas to stenches on about every other page. This starts on in the incredible first line of the novel: “It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.” Other themes - rivers, animals, cages, etc. - were so compelling that I read it even after I came home from teaching ESL at 9:00 p.m., something pre-pandemic I was usually too tired to do.

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    1. That's definitely a strong recommend.

      And that's a great observation: the physical is something that Garcia Marquez writes well about.

      The problem was mostly it was one of those books I really, really expected to love, and I only liked it.

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