Paperback, 276 pages
Published October 28th 2008 by Picador (first published May 30th 2006)
Original title: Travesuras de la niña mala
ISBN 031242776X (ISBN13: 9780312427764)
Edition language: English
Characters: Ricardo Somocurcio, La niña mala, Paúl, Juan Barreto, Los Gravoski
I wanted to give this one star, but he's a fantastic writer. My discontent lies in that I abhor people who are door mats, fictional narrators or not. If I had to do it over again, I would have stopped when I thought I should - about 30% of the way through, and started reading "Feast of the Goat," which I hope is much better. Unfortunately, the prose and translation kept me going. I've never read "Madame Bovary," which this is a retelling. The "bad girl," the woman so filled with what some critics so ridiculously call "LIFE," (which I call manipulative narcissism), does not treat her readers by committing sweet, sweet suicide like Bovary's Emma. After the 30% mark, I told myself that anything less than a murder-suicide at the end would leave me incensed, and it has. It gets two stars and a commitment to read at least one more Llosa book; a testament to his skill. If the next book delves into this absurd sentimentality, I'll still call him a great writer, but will read no more.
Published October 28th 2008 by Picador (first published May 30th 2006)
Original title: Travesuras de la niña mala
ISBN 031242776X (ISBN13: 9780312427764)
Edition language: English
Characters: Ricardo Somocurcio, La niña mala, Paúl, Juan Barreto, Los Gravoski
I wanted to give this one star, but he's a fantastic writer. My discontent lies in that I abhor people who are door mats, fictional narrators or not. If I had to do it over again, I would have stopped when I thought I should - about 30% of the way through, and started reading "Feast of the Goat," which I hope is much better. Unfortunately, the prose and translation kept me going. I've never read "Madame Bovary," which this is a retelling. The "bad girl," the woman so filled with what some critics so ridiculously call "LIFE," (which I call manipulative narcissism), does not treat her readers by committing sweet, sweet suicide like Bovary's Emma. After the 30% mark, I told myself that anything less than a murder-suicide at the end would leave me incensed, and it has. It gets two stars and a commitment to read at least one more Llosa book; a testament to his skill. If the next book delves into this absurd sentimentality, I'll still call him a great writer, but will read no more.
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