I bought this book for a 5-year-old, but the adults love it as much as he does. The idea is that skunks are great, and their smell is the best part of them. The rhymes are hip and irreverent and silly, and the drawings bring the book to life. My brother-in-law and I could not stop quoting the line "Skunks with purple mohawks, dude!" to each other--it made us laugh every time. I can't wait to get the other two books by this author (Bugs! and Slugs!).

I would highly recommend this book to anyone with a sense of humor, but I think it would be especially good for kids (especially boys) who think they don't like poetry.

Artist Lynn Munsinger contributes her hilarious drawings to Greenberg's consideration of the skunk and its possible attributes. Zany and hilarious scenarios include the idea that "skunks make superior sprinklers for watering your grass/Pump their tails several times, spray insects with their gas." The ideas for a skunk's use get zanier as the rollicking rhyme continues throughout.

"The General in His Labyrinth" is a fictionalized account of the last seven months of the life of Simon Bolivar (1783-1830), the liberator of Gran Colombia (Venezuela, Colombia, and Ecuador) from Spanish rule. Bolivar's goal was to unite South America into a single great country, but there was constant conflict with separatists and political and military rivals, and in the last year of his life he was expelled from the presidency. He left Bogota with an entourage of close friends, relatives, and servants, and his final months were spent in a journey down the River Magdalena, ostensibly to leave the country. A terminal illness (consumption? tuberculosis? his bedsheets are burned and eating utensils are buried after he uses them for fear of contagion) causes him fits of feverish delirium, in which he recalls glorious episodes in his life.

I once read one of Garcia Marquez's earlier short stories, "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings," and that story and this novel seem to share a theme. They are both about an important or extraordinary figure (in the story, the title character; in this novel, Bolivar) who falls from a state of grace, comes into contact with common people, and must suffer their treatment, be it awe or indifference. I knew almost nothing about Bolivar and the history of South America, but the fact that this fascinating novel made me want to learn more about the subject is a testament to Garcia Marquez's great skill as a writer.

The General in His Labyrinth marked a radical departure in style for the Nobel Prize winning author, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. While his previous works of fiction were deeply imbued with the culture of his native Colombia, this book was the first to draw directly from the tortured and labyrinthine history of the region. The General in His Labyrinth tells the story of General Simon Bolivar, known as "The Liberator," in many South American countries.

After leading the revolution that freed the northern part of South American from Spanish rule, Bolivar attempted to unite the regions into one country. He was opposed by the local aristocracy, however, because, "the oligarchies in each country...had declared war to the death against the idea of integrity because it was unfavorable to the local privileges of the great families." Bolivar, as a consequence, suffered great disillusionment due to the failure of his dreams.

The General in His Labyrinth is a semi-fictionalized account of Bolivar's final days, in particular, his last voyage along the Magdalena River from Bogota, Colombia to the sea. Bolivar had renounced the presidency of the Republic of Colombia and had planned to leave the political strife and civil war that followed the expulsion of the Spanish from South America. Disillusioned, consumptive and still reeling from an assassination attempt, he intended to sail down the Magdalena, travel to Europe and live his remaining days in peace. But Bolivar was a man of tenacious dreams and the plight of his people, coupled with the failure of their governments, forced him back into the political arena to once again seek the realization of his efforts.

Bolivar was an almost mythic figure, who, even before his death appeared larger-than-life. Although he was well-known for his unparalled leadership abilities, he also possessed a passionate nature and titanic temper. Such a figure, of course, dominates this book, much as Bolivar's presence dominated during his lifetime. The other characters simply pale in comparison, although this is not a criticism; Bolivar was simply so overwhelming that almost everyone paled beside him. The only notable exceptions are those characters who never actually appear in the novel, other than in their remembrances of the General: Santander, his political enemy; Sucre, his most able commander; and Manuelita, the General's loyal and loving mistress.

Garcia Marquez says he picked the voyage down the Magdalena to fictionalize because it was the least known episode in a well-known and very publicly-lived life. His reasons were also, no doubt, thematic. Bolivar's voyage contains a symbolic power that Garcia Marquez utilizes to excellent effect. In this master writer's hands, the trip becomes one of both nostalgia and sentiment for the glories and hopes of youth. As the General and his large entourage float through the steamy jungle towards the sea, the General floats in and out of sickness and delirium and his memories become inextricably linked to hallucination. The attitudes and discomforts of illness and old age also play a prominent role in this story, and their effects of the body are described in detail. This is, however, no Love in the Time of Cholera, for in that book, old age was accepted, even if disliked, and tolerated with more than a modicum of comedy.

Some people may detect a distinct difference in style between this book and Garcia Marquez's masterpiece, One Hundred Years of Solitude. I don't think this was deliberate on Garcia Marquez's part. I read Garcia Marquez, first in Spanish then in English, and in Spanish, the difference in style is not so readily apparent. One Hundred Years of Solitude was translated into English by Gregory Rabassa, Garcia Marquez's longtime translator, while this book was translated by Edith Grossman, something that may, and no doubt does, account for the stylistic differences in the English translation.

The combination of Garcia Marquez's enormous myth-making talent and Bolivar's own mythic persona makes for extremely intriguing reading. The dangers the author conquered are multiple and range from public censure to an excess of factual information at the expense of creativity. Not surprisingly, Garcia Marquex succeeds, even with the difficult task with which he presented himself. Coupled with the genius of Garcia Marquez, Simon Bolivar's epic accomplishments and near-mythic character give this book an immediacy and intimacy that still manages to resonate. And it never diminishes the towering presence of the Liberator.

One of my good friends is the person whose opinion I trust most when it comes to books and literature. And, I'm happy to say, we usually agree on what's good and what's not so good. Although my friend loves Gabriel Garcia Marquez, "The General in His Labyrinth," however, is one book my friend didn't like and I did.

"The General in His Labyrinth" tells the story of the melancholy and sad final journey of General Simon Bolivar, fondly known as "The Liberator" in many South American countries. Bolivar is the man who drove the Spanish from the northern part of South America during 1811-1824, even though the local aristocracy chose to fight against him. In the end, he became a sad and defeated man, old before his time and burdened with the knowledge that his dream of a unified South America would not be realized during his lifetime.

Although Bolivar is revered in much of South America (and the world in general), his final days were quite unhappy. In this book, Garcia Marquez takes us along with Bolivar on his final cruise along the Magdalena River from Colombia to the sea. Bolivar was sad, disillusioned, in shock from the after effects of an assassination attempt and suffering from an unspecified illness; in short, this mythic man had become old at the very young age of forty-six.

After Bolivar had been denied the presidency of Colombia he decided to spend his final days in Europe, far away from political strife of any kind. But Bolivar wouldn't have been Bolivar had he not given his life to the people. His dreams of living in peace in Europe were dashed when the government that replaced him failed.

It didn't take years of history to make Bolivar larger than life. He was larger then life to those who knew him intimately as well as to those who knew him only by reputation. And no wonder...he possessed a terrible temper, a extraordinarily passionate nature and his political and leadership abilities were virtually unsurpassed. Everyone paled next to Bolivar, in life just as (almost) everyone pales next to him in this book. (His enemy, Santander, and his commander, Sucre, are two notable exceptions. His lover, Manuela Saenz is also a well drawn character, but Bolivar's valet, Jose Palacios lets us know that, other than saving Bolivar from assassination, she was really nothing special, just one more lover among very many.)

I read, in a interview with Garcia Marquez, that the voyage along the Magdalena was chosen to be fictionalized since this was a little-known episode in a very publicly-lived life. Personally, I think it was a wonderful choice. The voyage was one that was no doubt filled with melancholy and nostalgia and no one writes of melancholy and nostalgia, especially South American melancholy and nostalgia, as well as does Garcia Marquez. This is a book in which real memories become confused with the hallucinations of delirium, a confusion that is only enhanced by the descriptions of the steamy jungle interior. The floods, the oppressive heat, the epidemics that Bolivar and his weary band of supporters encounter only serve to enhance "The Liberator's" own physical decline.

I also think that showing us Bolivar, not at the height of his glory, but at what was no doubt one of the lowest points of his life, was also a wonderful choice. Bolivar was, apparently, a man of contradictions. He was flamboyant and mythic, yet ultimately tragic; he could be elegant in public matters yet coarse in private; he was obviously a genius at strategy, yet his last days were filled with the incoherence of illness. And, all along the way, through this maze of contradictions, Garcia Marquez never loses sight of the one driving force in Simon Bolivar's life: his desire for a unified South America.

I also love the way Garcia Marquez twists and folds the narrative of this book until the reader isn't quite sure what's real and what's fevered hallucination; what really happened and what didn't. Of course, Garcia Marquez is a master at just this sort of narrative and he really outdoes himself in this book.

In the end, Bolivar, himself, decides that South America is ungovernable; it is, he declared, a land that will inevitably fall into the hands of tyrants, both large and small. Sadly, Bolivar's prophecy seems to be, at least in part, true. And, even more sadly still, although the world has come to love and rever "The Liberator," "The Liberator," himself, died a sad and defeated man.