Only 3 stars since a good chunk of this book is basically Che having asthma attacks and waiting for other people so he can proceed with traveling/medicine/work, etc.
The beginning is good, but around the time he gets in Guatemala, or perhaps a bit before it, he gets stuck in a serious monotonous rut. There's such a dearth of anything for him to write about at that point, paired with monotony that that chunk was hard to get through. However, when the coup happens in Guatemala onward, and during his time in Mexico, I love. His letters to his mom are so incredible. When he said her talking about her depression revealed a great wisdom in a way he never knew her, that smacked me right in the heart. It would seem the perpetual fight between frustration and love with mothers is an all too universal phenomenon.
It's a shame that his diary style often is only a statement of a few facts, and it's edited in a way where there's not really distinctions between gaps of time. When he does decide to be poetic, to be sensitive and passionate, it always moves you. Of course one can't always be like that, but damn.
I think Motorcycle Diaries is more digestible simply because from what I understand, he had more of a sense of purpose with that and wrote/edited it on his own instead of it being compiled by others. He also was in a bit larger of a crisis in this book and had to focus on surviving and I think that might be part of the reduction in readability.
I'm very excited to continue reading Che's writings, it's my goal to read everything by him this year. It's really hard to not be a fan of him, and I'm not just speaking ideologically as a Marxist-Leninist. The man really is the essence of doing whatever he wants to do and doing it well; more often than not. Just in the first two books, the amount of jobs he did and people he helped, the insight he gives throughout all of the Americas, is incredible. Things he's shown to do well or at least do at some point: Star soccer player and captain, firefighter, journalist, photographer, doctor (one who will literally canoe fucking leprosy patients through the amazon) diplomat, womanizer (impressive but distasteful, it's kind of insane he marries and has a baby with Hilda, and immediately still seeks out women to fuck), writer, historian, bandit, etc.
The dude really was on insane levels of audacity, intelligence, and constitution. He 100 percent deserves the mythological legacy around him and he constantly amuses and inspires. He has such an odd personality. His writing leaves an impression sometimes that he only cares about pragmatism, almost like he already had some militaristic discipline internalized within him before ever picking up a weapon in the name of revolution. This accompanied with skepticism, sometimes tends to paint the more reactionary image of him.
Yet, more often than not, he often speaks only the best of most people; and almost always sees the good qualities in everyone, save those who deserve to be scorned. (This would become apparent in the July 26th revolutions prisoner policy, where during the revolution often prisoners would be let go with a lecture, and only their weapons and ammo confiscated) Despite his straightforward and blunt style of reporting much of the time, it's obvious within him is a very intense passion for the appreciation of arts, culture, history, and all sorts of things. When he thinks on these things, often the poet and romantic side of him comes out. It's clear there was a struggle within him like many revolutionaries; caught between the desire to live the life of a bohemian and submit to all sorts of hedonism, even the more virtuous epicurean kind; or to steel oneself and sacrifice yourself entirely to fighting injustice. I'm glad he chose what he chose.
Also, lmao, calling Karl Marx "Saint Karl" and Engels and Marx, "Charlie and Freddy".