It is a story told in the words of one of the most "robust" and memorable characters in modern fiction. Here is the "extraordinary" story of the last and "greatest" native civilization of North America, at the "height" of its "magnificent" (sic). This was obviously written by someone who decided not to actually read the book, but wanted to guess what it was about (quotes added for emphasis): I find it apropos to quote the GR summary of the book to give you a basic outline of what you might expect to find "under the covers" of this novel. It's about the penis of this other dude who is able to "visit" with exotic tribes and still make it back in time for the major happenings of Spanish conquest. This story isn't about Marky Mark’s penis or Montezuma's penis, either, because you might find that too predictable. It's not really something I would have thought you'd need to be specific about, but kids are so "creative" these days. it is also lots and lots of guilty fun.ĭid you ever wish that Boogie Nights was a book set in the time of the fall of the Aztec empire? No? Well, don't tell Gary Jennings that because I'm pretty sure it would hurt his feelings. it's an indefensible book, a combination of longest boy's adventure ever and a jack-off book of epic proportion. just being seen reading it made me feel like such a common tourist. it was impossible to earnestly defend such a spectacle of michael bay proportions. i couldn't keep my eyes out of the book "it's really well-researched" was my mantra whenever my friends would look at it with doubtful, critical eyes. Reading this in the central plaza of Oaxaca during a sunny week preceding the Day of the Dead made the experience a vital one, and a really embarrassing one as well.
doom and good fortune are doled out plentifully. it is a jacobean soap opera writ large, candide placed in his trashiest adventure yet: the always-horny narrator moving constantly through varied scenes of destruction, despair, bawdy comedies of manner, periods of learning and excitement, times of cold anger and lingering resentment, from youth to infirmity. some enjoyments inspire only guilt: the numerous, excitedly engorged accounts of atrocity and bloodshed, the overripe sex scenes that become almost ridiculous in their frequency and comically graphic, often grotesque detail. some enjoyments are guilt-free: the sense of wonder, the lavish details, the description of native civilizations - so many aspects of so many cultures, all so clearly well-researched and engagingly depicted.
If a guilty pleasure can elevate itself to the level of transformative epic, and then come plummeting back down to farce and depravity, and then up again, and then down again, and around and around and around.
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