Quixoticirony

First off, I apologize profusely for taking so long to get another review out. I’m taking the easy way out and blaming it on not being home for the past month, with most of that time being spent working 12 hour days in a warehouse in the Frozen North.

Now, on to the belated review.

Needed to read this book:

–A fairly good grasp on the Spanish language (or alternately a Spanish/English dictionary)

–A somewhat extensive knowledge of nerdy literature (especially Lord of the Rings)

–A love of literature of the post-modern/magical realism variety

As with most post-modern lit, Oscar Wao plays to a specific audience. I’d say that if you posses at least two of the three in the above list, you should manage to make it through the novel without defenestrating the book in frustration. Having the second and third covered myself, I managed to limp along through the novel at a decent pace, but I still can’t say that I truly understood the meaning of the tale.

I won’t blame my misunderstanding on my pathetic knowledge of Spanish, though. I blame it on my parents. Or perhaps my parents’ parents. Basically I blame my whiteness. Having lived in San Antonio off and on for the past six years, I’d like to think I have pretty good idea of what the Latino culuture is about, and I’ve embraced a good portion of that (I’m sorry, I refuse to show up late to events–it’s against my nature). But even as I embrace it, I don’t fully understand it and never will. Because of this, I can never truly understand any piece of literature set in the Latino culture.

Still, I can’t say I detested The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao–it contains some of my favorite literary elements, including magical realism, nerd talk, and a character who refuses to leave the fringes of society just to be accepted. Yet, I don’t think I can recommend this novel to others.

Why? Unlike Jorge Luis Borges (a master of magical realism), Diaz’s writing seemed too self-aware, as if he were trying too hard to emulate the former author’s writing, all while attempting to create his own style and sub-genre. The magical realism of Oscar Wao seemed forced, or something perhaps added at the last minute. Along with that, the post-modernism of the tale was overt, smashing the uniqueness of it into the face of the reader.

Perhaps the author meant to do this on purpose, just to show how out of touch and patently different the main character is from the rest of the novel’s residents. The narrator is not Oscar, the main character, but rather Oscar’s unwilling and much “cooler” college roommate and former boyfriend of Oscar’s older sister. Despite the narrator being the sports hero and conqueror of women, the language he uses is more akin to Oscar’s–including heavy use of sci-fi/fantasy references.

The narrator is what Oscar strives unsuccessfully to be. The epitome of all things Latino and cool right in his college dorm notwithstanding, Oscar fights to not become that perfect person, all the while pining to have it. The big question here is, do you become what others want to you to be, so as to make your life easier, or do retain your own idiosyncrasies, thereby becoming a person who might buck the system and change the way we live forever?

All is not lost, however. I adored Diaz’s portrayal of Oscar. Never does he become a hero or great guy loved by all. He leaves the world the same way he came in, loved by a few family members in complete obscurity, with nothing to show for the life he lived. Oscar never meets his professional goals, doesn’t get the love of his life, and keeps his same sloppy, slightly obese figure throughout the novel.  But you can’t help but relate to him just a little bit, just for wanting to be himself, no matter how much he hates who he is (or really, is not).

Age Recommendation: Adult (language and adult situations)

Rating: 6.5 out of 10 stars

Reviewed by: Meagan