Love in the Time of Cholera

What a drag. I could tell straight away that I'd read a similar tale just by the style of the prose. Marquez's  narrative is just so boring and presses on relentlessly without passion or change. The reference to his characters is just so formal with the insistence of using their full names each and every time they are mentioned. And the names themselves are so similar, even though they are completely unrelated. The idea of a man waiting for his true love is an interesting one, yet the cold harsh and indifferent reception of the dull narrative drones on about mundane activities without referring in detail to the action within. Not once do we learn of the full contents of a letter; we merely learn what happens to its physical presence of it afterwards. It is too much a tale of hopes and dreams. I hope that I shall never have to open a work by this author ever again.