If we are going to be talking about books that do not deserve the time of the day but that we devour nonetheless. Anything by Georgette Heyer. Good Lord are her books dumb! Dumb, dumb, dumb! And I have read them all. Some a few times. Hiding, of course (I have someone at home who is just waiting for me to do a literary faux-pas to mock me until I die).
About Nabokov and Kundera. I actually split my literature. I will not have the same standards for commercial novels as I will have for … real literature (for lack of better wording). Yes, I do consider Nabokov to be a mediocre writer. His prose is décousue, his imagerie lacks of originality, he writes to satisfy himself. In the same way post 1980 (I actually rarely anything post 1950, with a few exceptions) authors write mostly for fame and self-satisfaction, so does he. In fact, I daresay he is the father of commercial literature, his only aim being to cater to the dark, shameful desires that linger in the back of the human mind (including his). But there is something else … I hate him. And of course, my strong hatred will make me see and invent him bad sides.
At the same time, I hate Ayn Rand as well. Maybe even more than I do Nabokov (I pity Nabokov and feel contempt towards him - which I do not towards Rand), but I cannot but say the truth. If I want to read good romance, I go read something by Ayn Rand. The woman knows her stuff, though it isn't grand writing (far from it). It is enjoyable to the utmost.
But yes, you've nailed it with García Márquez. I can't agree more.