Love in the Time of Cholera - A Book Review

Last year in a post about solitude, I suggested that it was a deficiency of our liberal arts education that nobody I knew had read One Hundred Years of Solitude by the Noble Prize-winning Colombian author, Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

A woman at my church recently slipped me a different book by Marquez, with some apology (I think for all the sexual references--which are actually handled with fairly discreet language)--Love in the Time of Cholera (1985, Spanish). It's sometimes dangerous to recommend a book, but in this case, I'm glad she did.

Our book club's current pick was The Glass Castle which I had already read and thoroughly enjoyed. I was looking for a new bedside book. The last book which I read in bits and pieces at bedtime, finishing earlier this year was Solar (2010) by Ian McEwan. It was timely in describing the pitfalls in the area of research and development of solar energy but was a bit "thick in the weeds" for me with all its scientific jargon. The main character was thoroughly and disgustingly depraved. I finally finished it earlier this year, long before all the information about the demise of Solyandra had surfaced. Having recently read Solar, I felt like I understood better why a solar energy company could be vulnerable to failure. I chose the book because I had previously enjoyed McEwan's style in Atonement, but I don't recommend this newer book.

I am not a big reader, but I put my used paperback copy of Love in the Time of Cholera on my nightstand and read every night until it slipped from my fingers to the floor, usually 5 or 10 minutes! Although I enjoyed the book it was not something I needed to read quickly--I was content to let the story unfold slowly--and slowly it did unfold! The characters were unusual, it was set in an unfamiliar culture from the 1800's, in an unnamed seaport in the Caribbean, resembling Cartagena. I was reading a translation from the Spanish which was sometimes cumbersome, although highly praised for capturing Marquez's style and intent. The images described were not always pleasant, often conjuring up smells and images which I did not want to imagine: for example, the bloated bodies of cholera victims floating down the river past the ship of passengers; and the "love play" of two old people in the end! Documenting the life of the quirky romantic, Florentino Ariza, over 50 years of waiting for a chance to win back love (51 years, 2 months and 4 days), it was a bit of a slog for me, especially since I read it in such short segments at a time of day when I was already exhausted.


I just found out that the book was an Oprah Book Club selection for October, 2007--her 59th pick. (100 Years was chosen in 2004). Oprah  is quoted as saying it was "one of the greatest love stories I have ever read." A movie version came out in November of 2007. Does anybody remember that? Does anyone think this book is reminiscent of The History of Love?

The imaginative use of language, the humorous way the characters are presented and the lifelong quest for love which is pursued and finally realized at the very end of the book, was enough to keep me reading, at my painfully slow and sleepy pace.

I will not attempt to unpack the symbolism here, but it is certainly more than a simple love story. The relationship of this 50-year love affair to the cholera epidemic could be easily developed.

I was intrigued by the drink of choice in the book. Fermina Daza, the love object in the book, liked anisette. Fermina would worry that if she drank too much she would break into fits of giggles, but it seemed she drank  every day. As I was reading I  thought I knew what the drink might be. Anisette from aniseed has the flavor of licorice, fennel and tarragon, not the same as star anise. It has been produced in France since the latter 1700's. I am familiar with the Italian version--Sambuca and know something of the Greek Ouzo. More popular in Mediterranean regions, there are many kinds and brands of anise-flavored drinks in the world. Many cocktails include the addition of various anise-flavored products or oil. The Colombian word for the drink translates "fire water" and it is not a drink for me--basically, clear, black, liquid licorice that burns your throat.

Now that I am familiar with Marquez's style, perhaps I am ready to tackle that longer, award winning 100-Year book--a long, 5-generational saga. Love in the Time of Cholera only covers 51 years and it took me about 50 days to read it!