Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by chorvereads
The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton
4.0
"Love makes us such fools."
What truth is this, dear universe?! It might just be me or, you know, me? But Magical Realism Romance is becoming my thing. I'm not sure though if I'm terming this right. But anyway, even if I was just in the first few pages of this book, I immediately remembered my reading of Garcia-Marquez' "One Hundred Years Of Solitude" and Francis-Alfar's "Salamanca." It felt tremendously like these books. Not just the magical realism parts but also the family history in the beginning, interestingly 'painted' characters; all with colorful backstories no matter how important they were; and that, love. Oh that love, and the immensity that seems impossible to explain with just 'normal' human terms that the writers had to add on magical elements to make it utterly and painfully clear to us, muggles? Anyway, it had that fantastical love and the fantastical love affairs, some of it sweet and takes your breath away; while some utterly sorrowful and violent. But that's the thing, all of these are under that umbrella word...love. Oh love, you make us such fools. I hate being a fool. Being made one, made to look like one, it's maddening. I'm also angry because no matter what, I know it's going to happen to me. Ugh! What an annoying thought. It's because of that love again. Love and its many shapes, forms, sizes, and devices. And as what Ava Lavender and her story has told me. It's hard to find that happiness sometimes, that silver-lining in all the sacrifices and pain. It's hard to find that hope that things will look better and that what you're doing is, love. This is love, right?! This is the other annoying thing. No matter how much it pains you, no matter how many other easier choices we're given, we still choose, love. We still choose the pain. But with it, we also choose, the hope, the happiness, the contentment at life. Love, makes us, such, fools. Oh the truth, always resisting simplicity!
What truth is this, dear universe?! It might just be me or, you know, me? But Magical Realism Romance is becoming my thing. I'm not sure though if I'm terming this right. But anyway, even if I was just in the first few pages of this book, I immediately remembered my reading of Garcia-Marquez' "One Hundred Years Of Solitude" and Francis-Alfar's "Salamanca." It felt tremendously like these books. Not just the magical realism parts but also the family history in the beginning, interestingly 'painted' characters; all with colorful backstories no matter how important they were; and that, love. Oh that love, and the immensity that seems impossible to explain with just 'normal' human terms that the writers had to add on magical elements to make it utterly and painfully clear to us, muggles? Anyway, it had that fantastical love and the fantastical love affairs, some of it sweet and takes your breath away; while some utterly sorrowful and violent. But that's the thing, all of these are under that umbrella word...love. Oh love, you make us such fools. I hate being a fool. Being made one, made to look like one, it's maddening. I'm also angry because no matter what, I know it's going to happen to me. Ugh! What an annoying thought. It's because of that love again. Love and its many shapes, forms, sizes, and devices. And as what Ava Lavender and her story has told me. It's hard to find that happiness sometimes, that silver-lining in all the sacrifices and pain. It's hard to find that hope that things will look better and that what you're doing is, love. This is love, right?! This is the other annoying thing. No matter how much it pains you, no matter how many other easier choices we're given, we still choose, love. We still choose the pain. But with it, we also choose, the hope, the happiness, the contentment at life. Love, makes us, such, fools. Oh the truth, always resisting simplicity!