Five times I have read this book. Everytime I read it I learn to appreciate it a little bit more and a little bit less.

On the positive side, the depiction of the mafia, fictionalized as it is, the twisted logic of the world it inhabits continues to fascinate and disturbe me. There is something very twisted about how Don Corleone and his family live their sociopathic ways. How the Don is pleased how his family takes care of it’s own during the depression. How the Don simultaneoulsy helps Johnny Fontane and hurts him.

Micheal Corleone summarizes our ambivalence to the Godfather when he walks in Sicily and observes how if the Don’s world were to take over, the Sicily would be the outcome, and that that was not a pretty outcome.

On the negative side, do we really need to learn about vaginal tears, vaginal reconstructive surgery, and Nino Valentine’s manic depression? The entire side story involving Johnny Fontane and his crew in Hollywood seems bizarre, odd and irrelevant. It’s almost as if Mario had some extra material about Hollywood in the post-war era, and felt compelled to share it with us.

On the further negative side, the endless speaches by characters as they expose their feelings reads like Ayn Rand. And that’s not a compliment. Michael’s speech before the assissination of Solazzo, although informative is a soliloquouy. The belief that a bunch of tough guy gangsters would have enough patience to listen to Michael spew, when I have barely the patience to read the spew breaks the spell the book has.

I suspect that I read it most recently because the Soprano’s started again. And if you’re going to watch Tony, you might as well read about Michael.