francisicus_rex 's review for:

Budapest by Chico Buarque

1.0

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I could not connect with the narrator at all. Selfish, selfish, selfish, and so fascinated by how awesome his words are. All told, the prose meandered in so many directions and some of the episodes seemed forced (what was with the gypsy roulette thing?) Also, I found the word choice to hint at some underlying racism with the way certain other ethnicities were described. And so much reaching to sound profound; by the time I reached the forcibly "poetic" final sentence of the book (which had been teased at for quite some time) I just rolled my eyes. Hm. I had hoped for something different from this book and it never turned around for me.