Washington Irving certainly had a firm grasp on language, and he flaunts it here. Still, the flowery description and excruciating attention given to the scenery, vegetation, the food on tables, etc. gets old fast. This is already a short book as it is and said flowery descriptions make up the majority of its length; not much actually happens in terms of story. In fact, the entire plot (which is almost nonexistent) could probably be told in 5 or so pages if we didn't stop to smell the roses so often, and at such great length. I'm all for digression in a book as long as it's interesting (as in philosophical ramblings on the human condition or some such); but I can only stare at a rock or a bale of hay for so long before I'm ready to move on.
Not really a book that I'd recommend, but if you're curious about it then by all means, check it out. It's really not horrible, the writing is quite good, it's just far too tedious for my liking. In all honesty, this is one of those rare instances in which I hold the modern movie adaptation in much higher esteem than the original writing. Sure, the Tim Burton film took great liberties with it and added much that wasn't originally there, but if they hadn't then there simply wouldn't have been enough material for a feature film.