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pryz 's review for:
Memories of My Melancholy Whores
by Gabriel García Márquez
This is one of those books that make me wonder if I read the same story as everyone else. In many ways, it’s a reminder of how individual lived experiences influence how we perceive and interpret the world around us, or more specifically in this case, how it influences our reaction to art.
The story centers on an unnamed narrator, a reclusive, if not mildly eccentric journalist who, on the brink of his 90th birthday, decides to treat himself to a night with a young virgin arranged through a local brothel.
Rather than acting on his desires, long-suppressed emotions stir and the old man becomes mesmerized by her innocence and beauty as she sleeps. The love, or perhaps more accurately, infatuation he finds forces him to contemplate his life, past relationships, and the essence of love.
Many will choose to focus on the age of the man, his philandering, his use of prostitutes, and of course, the age of the young girl. Doing so, in my opinion, detracts from what I found to be a poignant reflection on love and aging.
The story centers on an unnamed narrator, a reclusive, if not mildly eccentric journalist who, on the brink of his 90th birthday, decides to treat himself to a night with a young virgin arranged through a local brothel.
Rather than acting on his desires, long-suppressed emotions stir and the old man becomes mesmerized by her innocence and beauty as she sleeps. The love, or perhaps more accurately, infatuation he finds forces him to contemplate his life, past relationships, and the essence of love.
Many will choose to focus on the age of the man, his philandering, his use of prostitutes, and of course, the age of the young girl. Doing so, in my opinion, detracts from what I found to be a poignant reflection on love and aging.