Time flew this week. I’ve yet to catch my breath and it’s almost Friday. I spend a lot of time thinking about time. How long will it take me to get home from work, how many hours of sleep can I have tonight, will I have time to read. Etc.
Time is a prominent theme in Love in the Time of Cholera. The story spans half a century (If there’s anything this book taught me it’s patience ! ) I find that the chronological sequence of events in a novel is not as impactful as the interconnectedness is. That’s what makes the story memorable. .
I first read this book at a tender and impressionable time in my life. I would force-read classics to add to my repertoire without understanding the sub context of what I was reading -for book cred. I wanted this story to be a grand romance thanks to Serendipity. I love Kate Beckinsale. Also, I really wanted to be enraptured because I was sweet 16 and romance was life.
Instead what I found was a stinking but beautifully written ugly story about vice masquerading as love. Lust, sexual depravity, PERVERSITY, jealousy, vengeance and obsession; ALL UNDER THE GUISE OF LOVE. I didn’t understand the existence of this concept then and I am only beginning to grasp it now. The title of the book is a metaphor you see, Márquez, being the Nobel Prize winning, master of illusion that he is, alludes that lovesickness is in fact an emotional and physical disease comparable to cholera. Read this book because it’s good writing, but also don’t because it’s disgusting.