![]() ![]() That sense of reality slightly altered, not quite magical realism but not life as we know it, despite the faded grandeur and trappings of a post-colonial state. Love in the Time of Cholera was probably one of the first books I read that introduced me to a South American sensibility, having been immersed in a traditional English A-level. ![]() A lesson that not everyone will share your idea of a good holiday read. And friends I later saw off on a similar trip with the same battered tome berated me for trying to put a dampener on their holiday mood (due to its content, rather than its condition). ![]() My other standout book of the trip, Carson McCullers's sparse, sad Member of the Wedding, came back with a hole gouged through its middle. The books my friend and I brought shared our travails along the way – used to bash in tent pegs, left sodden after a sudden storm, borrowed and swapped. It can be a vivid evocation of a place so different and exotic – in this case, a fragrant yet slightly dissolute Caribbean island – that it transports you from the discomfort of a 12-hour train journey to somewhere else entirely. But the perfect holiday read is not necessarily a worthy tome that will enrich your experience or understanding of the culture you're visiting. ![]()
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