Today I started reading How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents by Julia Alvarez.
The room next door to me in the communal student house I live in was never fully moved out of by its previous occupant, so my other neighbor/former roommate and I have been taking his stuff down to his new basement room over the past few days. He has a lot of stuff.
We both took a 'book tax,' if you will -- she borrowed his copy of Dexter and I borrowed this book. My Spanish teacher recommended it (after rolling her eyes and declaring The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao a "sensacionalista" representation of the Dominican Republic. Junot Diaz, who teaches at MIT, apparently responded to her telling him this by saying, "You throw your shit, I'll throw mine.")
So far I find it. . . interesting? Well-written and readable, certainly. But a great deal of the book is about the four sisters' relationships with various men, which is . . . not something I find myself particularly able to identify with. . .wrinkly face of wryness.