When I hear a book is good, I generally agree with critics. Even if I'm not a fan of the subject matter or the way they attacked it, there's something that pulls you into the story, whether it be the prose or just the certain way they can draw you into their world. Oscar Wao was an extreme disappointment. The writing is so stream-of-conscious that I could hardly keep up, least...
more When I hear a book is good, I generally agree with critics. Even if I'm not a fan of the subject matter or the way they attacked it, there's something that pulls you into the story, whether it be the prose or just the certain way they can draw you into their world. Oscar Wao was an extreme disappointment. The writing is so stream-of-conscious that I could hardly keep up, least of all enjoy the story that Diaz was laying out. Sometimes his writing was magical, and then it would slide right back into the mess of confusion and often unrelated tangents that were neither amusingly quirky or interesting. The main plot-- that of Oscar and his youth-- was the only thing that kept me reading this novel. This was not out of fun or interest either, but such extreme pity for this poor boy, and that feeling was one that I couldn't shake for the remainder of the novel. There was nothing fun or deep about it... just sad. If the focus had stayed on Oscar, I could have grudgingly accepted this novel, but instead it abruptly changes to characters that we barely know and often aren't introduced to until half-way through their narrative. In the midst of these shifting viewpoints are wordy, dull tales of the history of the Domincian Republic, written in a way that's supposed to be keeping the non-fiction fresh, but instead makes it almost unbearable to read. An incredibly difficult book to plow through, and it gave me little joy or insight. Utterly and completely disappointing.
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