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Books I’m Reading

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I can’t decide whether I live to eat, or I live to read. From the beginning, I’ve been happiest when I’m in the middle of a wonderful story.

With the death of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, it’s high time to read One Hundred Years of Solitude. I was given a beautiful hardcover copy by an old boyfriend whom I’m sure thought he was giving me just the thing. I was sorely disappointed then, but twenty-some-odd years later, the sting of not getting jewelry is gone and I can appreciate the gift.

My long-standing standard for a good book is it has to have a killer opening sentence. Marquez, unlike the long-ago boyfriend, does not disappoint: “Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.” I’m intrigued–vámonos!


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