I just finished reading Memories of My Meloncholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the Nobel Prize winner and genius.  This particular novella had great, classic Marquezian moments, lines that sang like a Bach concerto, and situations that both enlightened and creeped you out.  The story is about a man who has decided, on his ninetieth birthday, that he wants to have sex with a virgin.  When he calls a local Madame, and a long time friend, to set the meeting up, he discovers on this first night with the virgin that he has no desire to have sex with the young teenage girl.  Instead he lays next to her in bed and admires her as she sleeps.  The entire novella is about the main characters supressed love for this young girl, whom he never talks to, but only watches while she sleeps.  This is a love story in a fashion that only Marquez could dream up and make fascinating.  While there were creepy moments, when I was uncomfortable with this old man gawking at this barely teenaged girl while she slept, Marquez displays his talent as he keeps you involved until the oddly romantical ending.  The ending was far fetched, but what else can you expect from Marquez.  His method of displaying love as this absurdly powerful energy plays out beautifully in this novella.  It isn't the showcase of character and situation as One Hundred Years of Solitude or Of Love and Other Demons, but, if you can stomach a slightly perverse circumstance, you will be held by a writing master.

Out of my rating of Good, Gooder, and Goodest.  I give it a Gooder.