Cliff Davis’s Reviews > Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy > Status Update

I don't think we can approach this book expecting it to read like something Twain or Dickens would have written about their boyhood. Eire gives the key on p. 87: Hispanic culture is not linear or bound by logic: all is illusion and can be lost. So, jarring as it may be to Western readers, we can expect this book to eschew chronology, to jump suddenly into stream of consciousness. Very much Gabriel Garcia Marquez.