Lately I have been on a bad streak, unable to finish books I started, which, to me, a librarian, an inveterate reader, is sacrilegious. I couldn't finish "Bridge of Sighs" by Richard Russo, though I do have an explanation: I broke one of my cardinal rules (do not read two books by same author back to back), and paid the price (I had read "Empire Falls" and liked it). I've had "Tinisima" by Elena Poniatowska on my desk for many weeks, and haven't gone far; I'm reluctant to give up, for Tina Modotti was fascinating. I started "The last American man" by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I'm getting a bad feeling stalled. And so on. I'm having a reading malaise. I did just finish "Swing" by Rupert Holmes, and liked it well enough. But I haven't enjoyed anything all that much since I finished "Lois on the Loose."
I know whom to blame, though: Gerald Martin, who wrote "Gabriel García Márquez: A Life," did it. I read about a third of the book, and could not go on. I found Martin's style obsequious in his veneration of Marquez, as well as too orthodox in its leftist slant.
What I need is a good travel and description book, or a big fat biography. Hope is eternal.