One Hundred Years of Solitude

Title: One Hundred Years of Solitude

Author: Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Pages: 448

Genre: Latin, Classic

Grade: B+

Synopsis: The story is about 100 years in the small Latin American town of Macondo, founded by Jose Arcadio Buendia. For the next 100 years, his family lives in the town as it grows and changes. For six generations, the children are named after their ancestors and are blessed and cursed with the same passions, desires, strengths and weaknesses of those who have gone before them.

My Review: I quite enjoyed the book, but found it very difficult at first to distinguish between the main characters as all the boys are either named Arcadio or Aurelianos and all the women are named Remedios, Amaranta or Ursula. While the book covers a century, every chapter is a different story that is expertly woven into the fabric of the book as a whole, such as the visits of the gypsies, a town plagued with insomnia and one of the girls ascending to heaven while she hangs her laundry.

Disclaimer: As is often the case with the classics, this book does not shy away from sex or violence, although descriptions are never graphic (Although, apparently, the men of the Buendia family are distinguished by large members...).

From the Book: "A trickle of blood came out under the door, crossed the living room, went out into the street, continued on in a straight line across the uneven terraces, went down steps and climbed over curbs, passed along the Street of the Turks, turned a corner to the right and another to the left, made a right angle at the Buendía house, went in under the closed door, crossed through the parlor, hugging the walls so as not to stain the rugs, went on to the other living room, made a wide curve to avoid the dining-room table, went along the porch with the begonias, and passed without being seen under Amaranta's chair as she gave an arithmetic lesson to Aureliano José, and went through the pantry and came out in the kitchen, where Úrsula was getting ready to crack thirty-six eggs to make bread.

"Holy Mother of God!" Úrsula shouted."

Leaves of Grass

Title: Leaves of Grass

Author: Walt Whitman

Pages: 14 discs

Genre: Poetry

Grade: B+

Synopsis: Leaves of Grass is a collection of poems by Walt Whitman. Whitman is known as one of the great American poets and his poems are often a reflection of his thoughts on American politics, nature or industry.

My Review: The difficulty in reviewing this type of book is that I really enjoyed some of the poems and I didn't really care for many of the others. Whitman's style is unique and stream-of-consciousness, but often seems to ramble on and on. I mainly listened to this book in the car while I commuted to and from work, but I also got a full copy of the text from the library to follow along when I could. I found that my opinion of the poem was often formed depending on who read the poem and how they read the poem. Poetry is all about the reading and recitation. I loved listening to the poems and following along with them in the book.

You can read the full text of Leaves of Grass online at Google Books. A few of my favorite poems (Among many, many):

I Hear America Singing

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it
should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank
or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work,
or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his
boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat
deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the
hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his
way in the morning, or at noon intermission
or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the
young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or
washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to
none else,
The day what belongs to the day — at night the
party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious
songs.

O Captain! My Captain

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up - for you the flag is flung - for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths - for you the shores
a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Miracles

1. What shall I give? and which are my miracles?

2. Realism is mine--my miracles--Take freely,
Take without end--I offer them to you wherever your feet can carry you or your eyes reach.

3. Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love--or sleep in the bed at night with any
one I love,
Or sit at the table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds--or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown--or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring;
Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best--mechanics, boatmen, farmers,
Or among the savans--or to the _soiree_--or to the opera.
Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery,
Or behold children at their sports,
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old woman,
Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,
Or my own eyes and figure in the glass;
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring--yet each distinct and in its place.

4. To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the same;
Every spear of grass--the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women, and all that concerns them,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.
To me the sea is a continual miracle;
The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships, with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

The Fan

Title: The Fan

Author: Peter Abrahams

Pages: 320

Genre: Sports, Fiction

Grade: B

Synopsis: Gil is a rabid fan of the Sox and the new player that they have acquired in Bobby Rayburn. Gil believes that Rayburn will be the solution to all of the Sox's problems. Gil has some major problems of his own. He sales knives for a company that his father started years ago, but is fired due to poor performance. The only thing that Gil can think about are the days when he played baseball himself - in the little leagues. The great Bobby Rayburn is in a slump and Gil thinks he is the only one that can help get him out of it.

My Review: I felt that this was a fitting book to be reading during the final days of the World Series. I enjoyed how baseball and real life are intertwined with each one controlling the other at different times. The story is very engaging and a little disturbing as Gil obsesses more and more over Bobby Rayburn.

The Brethren

Title: The Brethren

Author: John Grisham

Pages: 440

Genre: Legal Thriller

Grade: B

Synopsis: Three judges in federal prison have concocted a scam to snare and extort money from closet homosexuals who answer to an ad in a gay lifestyle magazine. They end up snaring a presidential candidate that is being secretly fronted by the CIA, which causes the CIA to get involved in the scam in order to protect their candidate.

My Review: I felt that the premise behind this story was the weakest of any John Grisham book that I have read. The story was still interesting and enjoyable, but it was missing the excitement and intrigue that is typically present in a Grisham thriller.

From the Book: "(p. 88) What would his friends think? The Honorable Hatlee Beech, federal judge, writing prose like a faggot, extorting money out of innocent people."

The Host

Title: The Host

Author: Stephenie Meyer

Pages: 20 discs

Genre: Science Fiction

Grade: B-

Synopsis: The earth has been taken over by alien lifeforms, called souls, in the shape of small silver worms. The worms have been inserted into the back of the humans necks where they take over the brains and bodies of the humans. To an outsider, everything appears to be life as usual on earth, but to the few remaining humans hiding and running for their life this is not the case. This story is about one soul/human conbination in particular Wanderer and Melanie and their life sharing Melanie's brain and body.

My Review: My personal title for this book is The Book that Never Ends. I could see how it was going to end halfway through the book and then had to get through the particulars before it finally ended. When I first started the book I was surprised by how strange the story was, but I began to enjoy it before too long. The book is a little annoying, very strange (but then again, so is Twilight - especially book 4), and far too long. There were parts that I really liked, but far too much of the book just drags on.