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oxnard_montalvo's review against another edition
2.0
It's got this punchy, raw amd vulgar writing style that covers up what I felt to be a lack of fleshed out characters. Granted, we see everything from Yunior's perspective and he isn't exactly a developed person who grows and learns from the mistakes he makes.
Only took me a day to read. Once I was in I was carried along in the flow of his writing, even when a particular story wasn't grabbing me, they are all so brief I was onto something new before reading became a slog.
Perhaps there's a deeper level to this book- a meditation on the dangers of toxic machismo. How it stunts and inhibits men from creating meaningful relationships.
Only took me a day to read. Once I was in I was carried along in the flow of his writing, even when a particular story wasn't grabbing me, they are all so brief I was onto something new before reading became a slog.
Perhaps there's a deeper level to this book- a meditation on the dangers of toxic machismo. How it stunts and inhibits men from creating meaningful relationships.
pkwilkes1's review against another edition
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
cecile87's review against another edition
3.0
Although I found Wao quite an amazing piece of work, I can't say I liked this collection of short stories about Yunior and his life and his family. I didn't care about Yunior and his permanent hard-on. I didn't like the way women were spoken about--bitches and ho's. Ho's and bitches. And them some more bitches and sucias.
It was depressing to me, in spite of what I thought was great writing craft, that sexism and derogatory language will never go away. And women who allow such horrible behavior of their men will never become extinct. My hat off to Yunior's ex-fiance.
The pictures that were painted through these stories were of a world I'm glad not to be a part of. I'm not crazy about short stories in general and I'm glad I got this book from the library instead of a bookstore.
It was depressing to me, in spite of what I thought was great writing craft, that sexism and derogatory language will never go away. And women who allow such horrible behavior of their men will never become extinct. My hat off to Yunior's ex-fiance.
The pictures that were painted through these stories were of a world I'm glad not to be a part of. I'm not crazy about short stories in general and I'm glad I got this book from the library instead of a bookstore.
smirm's review against another edition
4.0
The plot of this book was very unexpected and because I didn't know what was coming next, it kept my undivided attention. I could really visualize the characters as I read and imagine how they felt throughout.
vexyspice's review against another edition
3.0
It was good but definitely not my favorite thing to have read by him. Mildly depressing to read about all these failed relationships ( i mean considering the title).. Yet and still, not bad.
dregina's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
4.75
gadicohen93's review against another edition
5.0
Disclaimer: Did not read stories in order. Did not read stories in one go. Did not read the one story from the female perspective cause I couldn't get into it. I read them gradually--some in the New Yorker when they were originally published, some on the net after looking 'em up, some in the Brown bookstore afte stopping by to pick up the book and catch up on the stories I hadn't gotten around to yet.
I love Junot. I'm so glad he exists in the world. Motherfucker has talent like no other. True Genius. I'm writing some stories now and I have to say I'm grateful, so fucking grateful, to his fiction. I didn't really understand why I was so grateful until last night, when I saw Junot at RISD and he was so fucking great. The Best. He unpacked everything about his fiction that I emulate in my own with an authenticity that was so appropriate it was ridiculous:
What I love about Junot is that he's real. His fiction burns with the truth. His Spanglish? This code-switching may throw some people off, but it hooked into me, made me really feel--in ways not many other writers can do--the density of the real, the way reality unravels not in linear English but in the forever-confusion that is consciousness, his consciousness. We get to truly see the inside of Yunior, the way his mind functions, the paradoxes and wandering madness that his inward stream of thoughts creates from the outside world.
More than anything, Junot last night proved to me why some things I write are better than others: I need to write for me, not for anyone else. I don't need to pander to anyone. Shit, I don't even need to pander to myself--I just need to write what I know, because only then can readers see themselves in my reality, or at least feel like they see themselves in my reality. He used the specific term "economies of signification"--that he doesn't need to define everything he talks about, that his Jersey might not evoke my Jersey, but my signification of Jersey will be hit hard by his, will transform, and that is what fiction needs to do: It needs to transform. It needs to hit hard.
Favorites:
Cause I read all of them in a weird order and over the period of a few months, some of these stories--the ones I read most recently--I remember more than others. The winter one, when they're children, just moved to the U.S., touched me so much, reminded me of the one house I stayed in for a month when I first moved to the U.S. when I was 10, tears in my eyes.
As usual, Junot's dad pisses me off, and I feel so much for his mom.
I love Junot. I'm so glad he exists in the world. Motherfucker has talent like no other. True Genius. I'm writing some stories now and I have to say I'm grateful, so fucking grateful, to his fiction. I didn't really understand why I was so grateful until last night, when I saw Junot at RISD and he was so fucking great. The Best. He unpacked everything about his fiction that I emulate in my own with an authenticity that was so appropriate it was ridiculous:
What I love about Junot is that he's real. His fiction burns with the truth. His Spanglish? This code-switching may throw some people off, but it hooked into me, made me really feel--in ways not many other writers can do--the density of the real, the way reality unravels not in linear English but in the forever-confusion that is consciousness, his consciousness. We get to truly see the inside of Yunior, the way his mind functions, the paradoxes and wandering madness that his inward stream of thoughts creates from the outside world.
More than anything, Junot last night proved to me why some things I write are better than others: I need to write for me, not for anyone else. I don't need to pander to anyone. Shit, I don't even need to pander to myself--I just need to write what I know, because only then can readers see themselves in my reality, or at least feel like they see themselves in my reality. He used the specific term "economies of signification"--that he doesn't need to define everything he talks about, that his Jersey might not evoke my Jersey, but my signification of Jersey will be hit hard by his, will transform, and that is what fiction needs to do: It needs to transform. It needs to hit hard.
Favorites:
Cause I read all of them in a weird order and over the period of a few months, some of these stories--the ones I read most recently--I remember more than others. The winter one, when they're children, just moved to the U.S., touched me so much, reminded me of the one house I stayed in for a month when I first moved to the U.S. when I was 10, tears in my eyes.
As usual, Junot's dad pisses me off, and I feel so much for his mom.
biolexicon's review against another edition
Conflicted about how I feel about this one, conflicted about the story, conflicted about the author. Going to abstain from a rating.
tildahlia's review against another edition
4.0
Probably like a lot of people, I started reading this book after Diaz's vulnerable New Yorker piece about his childhood abuse and how it may (or may not) have affected his adult decisions. And then, well, we all know what happened next. It became an awkward time to be reading Diaz. However, I pushed on and have to say, this book is incredible. While you'll need a hazmat suit to wade through the toxic masculinity, I still sensed a degree of self-awareness and introspection that made it bearable. His style and cadence is so unique and reminds me of how valuable it is to read a diversity of voices. Beautiful and crushing.