I’m unsure if I can say Gabriel García Márquez’s ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ was my next read because I couldn’t finish it.

I’m still trying to figure out what to say about this book because it’s a well-regarded classic. Wikipedia says it’s “one of the supreme achievements in world literature.” I don’t know if we read the same thing, but what I read was a jumbled mess.

There’s no plot or story. We learn nothing about the characters or their motivations behind why they do what they do. There’s no emotion or connection to anyone. It’s all surface-level events, with no understanding behind any of it. There’s almost no dialogue. Márquez tells us, the reader, a summary of what the characters say to one another. We don’t get to see it or experience it. And Márquez introduces new characters on every other page. And these new people often share an identical name to another character. The book lists empty, detached events that follow one another. It reads like a Wikipedia article. It has no heart, no soul. It doesn’t engage the imagination; it doesn’t draw me in.

I’ve done some reading around online, and most of the arguments I’ve seen say, ‘But that’s what Márquez intended! Isn’t it great?’ Yeah, you don’t care for any of the characters. The plot has no meaning. There’s no dialogue. It’s all tell and no show. Who cares if that’s intentional? Listen, it’s cool that the book is so unique and all. I get what Márquez was going for. But what he was going for is not enjoyable to me in any way, shape, or form. I’m sure there was a lot of stuff that brighter minds than I will get. But I’m not too fond of that attitude towards a hobby that should be enjoyable. The mark of a good book is whether people from all walks of life can appreciate it.

I seldom find that I can’t finish a book. But pushing through to finish this felt akin to self-abuse. I try my damndest to find redeemable qualities in all the media I consume, even if the fans and critics dislike it. I found nothing in ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ except that it has a terrific first line.

My takeaway message is this. Even if many people love something and consider it a classic, it does not mean you must like it. Second, you can stop anytime if you are not enjoying a piece of art meant for entertainment.

You don’t win points at the end of this life for having forced yourself through these 450 pages.