به نام او

مطمئنا اکثر دوستان این کتاب رو خوانده اند. من هم چهار سال پیش با ترجمه آقای کیومرث پارسای خونده بودم و به زحمت به آخر رسوندمش ولی امسال با ترجمه جدید جناب آقای کاوه میرعباسی کتاب رو خوندم و باید عرض کنم که فوق العاده بود خیلی چسبید. یعنی ترجمه بد و خوب اینقدر فرق داره. البته معروفترین ترجمه، ترجمه مرحوم فرزانه است که انتشارات امیرکبیر منتشر کرده که الحق ترجمه خوبی هم هست ولی من با توجه به مقایسه بیست صفحه از دو کتاب این رو ترجیح دادم، ضمنا گویا چاپ جدید امیرکبیر دچار سانسورهای وحشتناکی شده. جالبه این ترجمه ای که من خوندم چیز دیگه ای نمونده بود که ترجمه نکرده باشه
و اما جهت دیگر معرفی کتاب، چاپ فوق العاده خوب نشر کتابسرای نیکه، هم طراحی جلد و صفحه آرایی عالیه هم برگ کتاب بسیار مرغوبه هم فونت تمیز و چشم نوازه، خلاصه خیلی خوبه و فقط مشکل بزرگش قیمت بالاشه که البته در بازار امروز کتاب قیمت نامعقولی نیست.
در آخر قسمتی از کتاب رو میآورم :
"تصمیم گرفتند دیگر به سینما نروند چون به نظرشان رسید خودشان آنقدر غم و غصه دارند که لازم نباشد برای بدبختیهای تصنعی مخلوقاتی خیالی گریه کنند"

So I know that I'm supposed to like this book because it is a classic and by the same author who wrote Love in the Time of Cholera. Unfortunately, I just think it is unbelievably boring with a jagged plot that seems interminable. Sure, the language is interesting and the first line is the stuff of University English courses. Sometimes I think books get tagged with the "classic" label because some academics read them and didn't understand and so they hailed these books as genius. These same academics then make a sport of looking down their noses at readers who don't like these books for the very same reasons. (If this all sounds too specific, yes I had this conversation with a professor of mine).

I know that other people love this book and more power to them, I've tried to read it all the way through three different times and never made it past 250 pages before I get so bored keeping up with all the births, deaths, magical events and mythical legends. I'll put it this way, I don't like this book for the same reason that I never took up smoking. If I have to force myself to like it, what's the point. When I start coughing and hacking on the first cigarette, that is my body telling me this isn't good for me and I should quit right there. When I start nodding off on the second page of One Hundred Years of Solitude that is my mind trying to tell me I should find a better way to pass my time.

تستحق فعلا جائزة نوبل للادب

بالرغم من تداخل الاشخاص فى الرواية و اعادة الاسماء فتلك السلالة الطويلة .. يسمى فيها الابناء باسمين اما اورليانو او خوسيه
و تتعدد الاجيال و تمر السنين و يتسم ابناء هذه السلالة بالعزلة

و لكن تلك العزلة تختلف
فلا يجد فيها ملل بلا على عكس فيها حياة

اول السلالة كانت نهايته تحت شجرة الكستناء و اخر السلالة انتهى فى الغابة عن طريق النمل

اتعجب من ماركيز كيف استطاع ان ينهى تلك الرواية بتلك النهاية المثالية
فلم اكن اتوقع ابداً النهاية و لم اتوقع ابداً ان تلك الرقائق التى كتبها ملكيادس كانت تاريخ هذه السلالة !

و كيف بدت نهاية السلالة

حيث يبدأ باحداث كتيرة متداخلة و يعيدها فى النهاية مرة اخرى بلا ترتيب و لا نظام
اتعجب ايضاً
أكان ماركيز يحفظ تلك الاحداث و تلك الشخصيات و تأثيرها ام كان يكتبها !!

من الصعب ان تجد كاتب يبدع بكل ذلك الابداع و تلك الافكار الفياضة و الاحداث المثيرة .. فكأنه يعرف النهاية قبل ان يكتب بداية الرواية

نجد فى الرواية من تعاقب الاجيال ومرور السنين و ما تغير ع البلدة حيث اكتشف الجد الاكبر ماكندو و كيف بدأت تلك البلدة تبدو هادئة فى البداية مريحة للبشر

ثم الحرب و الاحرار و المحافظين و تتوالى الاحداث

و شركة الموز التى احالت البلدة بخرابها و تبديد ثرواتها

حتى تلك الامطار و كأنها توضح غضبها من اهل البلدة لما افسدوا الارض و تلك الحفلات الصاخبة و التبذير للثورات من اجل الترف و فقط الترف

حتى تأتى تلك العاصفة فى النهاية لتبيد الارض مع انتهاء اخر افراد السلالة
فكأن الارض تعود كما كانت و تنطفئ بانتهاء هذه السلالة

Es gibt viele gute Gründe, Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit zu lesen. Es ist eines der wichtigsten Bücher des 20. Jahrhunderts, der Autor, Gabriel García Márquez, erhielt den Nobelpreis für Literatur, das Buch ist eines der Hauptwerke des Magischen Realismus, welcher durch südamerikanische Autor*innen geprägt wurde... und doch waren es nicht meine Gründe, das Buch endlich zur Hand zu nehmen. Mir reichte ein einfacher Satz:

n  Viele Jahre später, vor dem Erschießungskommando, sollte Oberst Aureliano Buendía sich an jenen fernen Nachmittag erinnern, als sein Vater ihn mitnahm, das Eis kennenzulernen.n

Mit diesem Satz beginnt Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit. Mit diesem Satz weckte Márquez eine Neugier in mir, die ich sofort stillen musste. Erschießungskommando, Eis kennenlernen, Oberst Aureliano Buendía – ich musste einfach wissen, was es damit auf sich hat. Und so begab ich mich auf eine Reise, tauchte in die Welt Macondos ab und war sechs Lesetage vollkommen gefesselt von einer Geschichte, die mich einfach nicht loslassen wollte.

Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit ist nicht nur immens gut geschrieben, als Leser*in merkt man sofort, dass Márquez wirklich etwas zu erzählen hatte. (S)eine Familiengeschichte, die Geschichte Kolumbiens, die Geschichte Südamerikas. Viele seiner Romane wurden später millionenfach verkauft, doch keiner hat die literarische Landkarte derart verändert wie diese Familiensaga der Buendías in Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit, dieser Allegorie der Geschichte Kolumbiens.

Gleich zu Anfang des Buches schildert Márquez die Absonderlichkeiten des Dorfes Macondo und seiner Bewohner*innen:

n  Seit den Tagen der Gründung baute José Arcadio Buendía Fallen und Käfige. In kurzer Zeit füllte er nicht nur sein eigenes Haus, sondern auch alle anderen des Dorfes mit Turpialen, Kanarienvögeln, Meisen und Rotkehlchen. Das Konzert so vieler verschiedener Vögel wurde jedoch so betäubend, daß Úrsula sich die Ohren mit Bienenwachs zustopfen mußte, um nicht den Sinn für die Wirklichkeit zu verlieren.n

Ich zitiere diese Stelle, weil sie mir emblematisch für den ganzen Roman erscheint. Als Lesende*r, die*der zum ersten Mal in Márquez' schräge Welt abtaucht, fühlt mich sich genauso wie Úrsula in ihren ersten Tagen in Macondo: so als würde einem jeglicher Realitätssinn entzogen. Es ist ein schwindelerregendes Gefühl.

Der Text ist so mit der südamerikanischen Kultur und Landschaft verwoben, dass man sich als westliche*r Lesende*r auf diesen einlassen muss; der Text erklärt sich nicht von selbst, vieles sollte man zwar hinnehmen, anderes hingegen sollte man nochmal ordentlich (nach-)recherchieren. Wovon ich abraten würde, ist, eigene Standards und Moralvorstellungen auf den Text anwenden zu wollen. Das kann nur schief gehen. Márquez präsentiert viel Fremdes, Ungewöhnliches, teils sogar Abartiges... es entsteht ein einzigartiges Tableau interessanter Charaktere und unerklärlicher Ereignisse, ein Meisterwerk, welches einen in schwindelerregende Höhen reißt, wenn man es lässt.

Doch worum geht es genau? "Am Ufer eines Flusses mit kristallklarem Wasser, das dahineilt durch ein Bett aus geschliffenen Steinen, weiß und riesig wie prähistorische Eier", befindet sich das imaginäre Dorf Macondo. Es wird gegründet und beherrscht von der Familie Buendía. Márquez erzählt die Geschichte dieser Familie über sieben Generationen im Familienkontext und Kontext der Einzelschicksale hinweg – über einen Zeitraum von hundert Jahren. Dabei geht es um Höhepunkte und Katastrophen, um Aberglauben und Liberalismus, um Liebschaften und Missgunst, um goldene Fische und Emigrationsträume in Brüssel und schließlich auch um brutal ermordete Arbeiter im Streik und Nationallegenden. Beeindruckend ist, wie es Márquez gelingt, ganze Epochen charakteristisch durch das Buendía-Kaleidoskop in einem imaginären Raum zu betrachten und zu verdichten, der Raum und Zeit erhellt, indem er sie verengt. Dadurch lässt sich der Roman wie eine Geschichte en miniature zur Geschichte Lateinamerikas lesen.

Die Literaturtheoretikerin Mechthild Strausfeld teilt die Romanstruktur in ein paralleles geschichtliches Stufenverhältnis ein:

(1) Entdeckung, Eroberung, Kolonialzeit (1492–1830)
(2) Republik: Beginn der Bürgerkriege (1830–1902)
(3) Beginn des Imperialismus: Bananen etc. (1899–1930)
(4) Aktualität – Neoimperialismus (1930–Gegenwart)

Die Parallelverweise zum Roman:

(1) Gründung Macondos durch die Familie Buendía
(2) Auftauchen des Landrichters und Verlauf der Bürgerkriege
(3) Die Bananenfabrik und die blutige Niederschlagung eines Streiks
(4) Agonie, Verfall und Zerstörung des Dorfes

(1) Der Stammvater der Buendías, José Arcadio Buendía, zieht, da er einen Mord begangen hat und vor dem Geist des von ihm Ermordeten flüchtet, mit seiner Frau Úrsula Iguarán sowie einigen anderen Familien durch den Dschungel, auf der Suche nach einem geeigneten Ort zur Gründung eines Dorfes. Nach der Gründung Macondos taucht eine Gruppe Sinti*zze und Rom*nja auf, zu denen auch Melquíades gehört, die den Dorfbewohner immer wieder neue wissenschaftliche Entdeckungen, wie Magnete und Teleskope, näher bringen. Melquíades pflegt eine enge Freundschaft mit José Arcadio, der sich immer mehr zurückzieht und davon besessen ist, die Geheimnisse des Universums zu erforschen, die ihm präsentiert werden. Schließlich wird er wahnsinnig, spricht nur noch Latein und wird von seiner Familie viele Jahre lang bis zu seinem Tod an einen Kastanienbaum gefesselt.

(2) Jahre später besiegelt das Auftauchen eines Landrichters die Eingliederung Macondos ins System staatlicher Verwaltung und Gewalt des neuen unabhängigen Kolumbiens, vor dem seine abgelegene Topographie die Bewohner*innen ja gerade bewahren sollte. In der Stadt wird eine manipulierte Wahl zwischen der konservativen und der liberalen Partei abgehalten, was Aureliano Buendía dazu veranlasst, in einen Bürgerkrieg gegen die konservative Regierung einzutreten. Er wird zu einer Ikone unter den Revolutionsführern, kämpft viele Jahre lang und überlebt mehrere Attentate, wird aber schließlich des Krieges überdrüssig und unterzeichnet einen Friedensvertrag mit den Konservativen. Desillusioniert kehrt er nach Macondo zurück und verbringt den Rest seines Lebens damit, in seiner Werkstatt kleine Goldfische herzustellen.

(3) Die Eisenbahn kommt nach Macondo und bringt neue Technologien und viele ausländische Siedler mit sich. Ein amerikanisches Obstunternehmen gründet außerhalb der Stadt eine Bananenplantage und errichtet auf der anderen Seite des Flusses ein eigenes, getrenntes Dorf. Dies läutet eine Zeit des Wohlstands ein, die in einer Tragödie endet, als die kolumbianische Armee Tausende von streikenden Plantagenarbeitern massakriert - ein Vorfall, der auf dem Bananenmassaker von 1928 basiert. José Arcadio Segundo, der einzige Überlebende des Massakers, findet keine Beweise für das Massaker, und die überlebenden Stadtbewohner leugnen oder weigern sich zu glauben, dass es geschehen ist.

(4) Am Ende des Romans ist Macondo heruntergekommen und fast verlassen. Die einzigen verbliebenen Buendías sind Amaranta Úrsula und ihr Neffe Aureliano, dessen Herkunft von seiner Großmutter Fernanda verheimlicht wird. Aureliano und Amaranta Úrsula beginnen unwissentlich eine inzestuöse Beziehung. Sie bekommen ein Kind, das den Schwanz eines Schweins trägt, womit sich die lebenslange Angst der längst verstorbenen Matriarchin Úrsula erfüllt. Amaranta Úrsula stirbt bei der Geburt, das Kind wird von Ameisen aufgefressen und hinterlässt Aureliano Babilonia als letztes Mitglied der Familie. Dieser entziffert die verschlüsselten Schriften des Melquíades, die sich als eine Chronik und Prophezeiung der Geschichte Macondos herausstellen; sie endet mit der Zerstörung des Dorfes, bei der auch Aureliano Babilonia zu Tode kommt – just in dem Moment, als er davon in Melquíades' Prophezeiung liest.

n  Before reaching the final line, however, he had already understood that he would never leave that room, for it was foreseen that the city of mirrors (or mirages) would be wiped out by the wind and exiled from the memory of men at the precise moment when Aureliano Babilonia would finish deciphering the parchments, and that everything written on them was unrepeatable since time immemorial and forever more, because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.n

Ein beherrschendes Thema in Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit ist die unausweichliche Wiederholung von Geschichte. Die Protagonisten werden von ihrer Vergangenheit und der Komplexität der Zeit beherrscht. Da sie ihre Vergangenheit verdrängen und vergessen, werden sie schließlich bestraft. Márquez zeigt auf, welche Kraft in der Erinnerung steckt, wieviel wir von der Vergangenheit lernen könnten, wenn wir nur gewillt wären. Er zeigt auch den Verfall, der unausweichlich wird, wenn sich Geschichte stets im Kreis dreht.

n  "What did you expect," murmured José Arcadio Segundo. "Time passes."
"That's how it goes," Úrsula said, "But not so much."
"When she said it, she realized that she had given the same reply that Colonel Aureliano Buendía had given in his death cell, and once again she shuddered with the evidence that time was not passing, as she had just admitted, but that it was turning in a circle."n

Es wurde oft konstatiert, dass dieser Roman einer der Texte ist, den die "lateinamerikanische Kultur geschaffen hat, um sich selbst zu verstehen." Márquez nutzt das Fantastische, um der Realität Ausdruck zu verleihen. Mythos und Geschichte überlappen sich in seinem Werk. Vielen kolumbianischen Nationalmythen wird durch die Geschichte der Buendías Leben einverleibt. Wichtige historische Ereignisse, die Márquez in seine Geschichte webt, sind bspw. die Eingliederung der Sinti*zze und Rom*nja, die liberale politische Reform einer kolonialen Lebensweise, die Errichtung einer Eisenbahn in einem gebirgigen Land, der Tausend-Tage-Krieg (Guerra de los Mil Días, 1899-1902), die unternehmerische Hegemonie der United Fruit Company und das militärische Massaker an streikenden Arbeitern.

Realität und Mythos/Magie verschwimmen. Dies mag westlichen Leser*innen kurios erscheinen. Für Márquez war es das Normalste der Welt. Er sagte einst: "Tatsächlich ist diese magische Welt, von der so viel gesprochen und über die von den Kritikern so viel geschrieben wird, unser Alltagsleben, das Leben, an das wir uns gewöhnt haben. Ich bin in einem Haus von Großmüttern und Tanten aufgewachsen, in einem Haus von Frauen, wo man inmitten dieser zweiten Natur lebte, dieser zweiten Wirklichkeit hinter der Wirklichkeit, hinter der es möglicherweise noch weitere unbekannte Wirklichkeiten gibt. Ich betrachte mich als einen reinen Realisten, der alltägliche Ereignisse katalogisiert, die später fantastisch erscheinen."

n  Lost in the solitude of his immense power, he began to lose direction.n

Das vielleicht wichtigste Thema des Buches ist das der Einsamkeit. Macondo wurde in einem abgelegenen Teil des kolumbianischen Regenwaldes gegründet. Die Einsamkeit des Dorfes steht stellvertretend für die Kolonialzeit in der lateinamerikanischen Geschichte, in der Außenposten und Kolonien im Grunde genommen nicht miteinander verbunden waren. Vom Rest der Welt isoliert, werden die Buendías immer einsamer und egoistischer. Da jedes Familienmitglied nur für sich selbst lebt, werden die Buendías zu Repräsentanten der aristokratischen, landbesitzenden Elite, die Lateinamerika beherrschte.

Irgendjemand hat einmal gesagt, mit dem Kolumbianer Gabriel García Márquez sei Lateinamerika neu entdeckt worden. Das ist natürlich übertrieben und gilt höchstens für die nicht Spanisch sprechende Welt. Aber es ist dann auch nicht ganz falsch. Die Nobelpreis-Jury hat den lateinamerikanischen Kontinent nicht mit Ehren überschüttet. Gabriel García Márquez bekam den Preis 1982, Pablo Neruda 1981. Ein Gigant wie Jorge Luis Borges konnte lange auf den Nobelpreis warten. Márquez überwand die Grenzen, die literarische Kontinente trennen.

Mit Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit habe auch ich mich endlich auf eine literarische Reise nach Südamerika begeben. Natürlich las ich zuvor von südamerikanischen Autor*innen, Machado de Assis und Allende fallen mir als Erstes ein, doch keine*r fesselte und beeindruckte mich so wie Márquez. Dieser eröffnete mir eine neue, faszinierende Welt, in die ich von nun an öfters abtauchen werde. Und natürlich werde ich auch Hundert Jahre Einsamkeit noch mehr als einmal in meinem Leben lesen. Das Buch hält noch so viele Rätsel, unverstandene Momente und Freuden bereit, to quote literary icon Cassandra Howard: "I have never ever been happier." ;)

welcome to...ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF AUGUSTUDE!

while logically i know that is far from my best month / title pun, and is also actually among the worst, and in point of fact that's even worse than it sounds because my puns have never been good...

i like it. and that's that.

we are back for another exciting round of Project Long Classics, in which elle and i find it within our cowardly hearts to brave long books from old times only by dividing them up into teeny-tiny chunks for four entire weeks.

if it works, it works.

i have been putting off reading this for a long time, and i am still very scared, but i do have this joke to get off: one hundred years of solitude? sounds like quarantine, am i right?

buh dum ch!

okay. i'm ready to get started.

we're also reading this for our book club -
join the discussion here
follow on instagram here

let's go.

DAY 1: PAGES 1-15
it's august 3, i won't lie to you. i could never. my nose would grow. pinocchio was based on a true story from the future about a human woman who writes book reviews.

okay, i'm procrastinating. i'm scared and i have to read 50 pages today!!! sue me!

all right. couple of things: this is beautiful; i have a used copy, acquired at an unknown time but probably 5+ years ago, and it smells good as hell; i'm not catching up today.


DAY 2: PAGES 16-30
okay. honesty hour: it's day 7, and i'm 15 pages into this book. folks...i am SLUMPED. (also i've been busy and i have trouble prioritizing these projects NOTORIOUSLY when i'm busy, but who cares about that part.)

anyway, i've decided i'm ignoring it in order to indulge in my favorite way to spend a sunday: bringing 5-10 books in bed with me and alternating chapters all day, absolutely refusing to so much as make eye contact with another human being. so hopefully we catch up!


DAY 3: PAGES 31-45
okay...dare i say...i'm starting to have fun with this.

i'm definitely liking it more than a good number of the collected stories, i'll say that much.


DAY 4: PAGES 46-60
so far this is giving very much no plot just vibes, and i can't say i'm not into it. and it's a collected stories crossover episode!


DAY 5: PAGES 61-75
the drama!!! sheesh. although you have to respect a classic that just comes right out and admits that nothing in life is more interesting or important than love and sex.

most old books are always pretending it's something boring, like politics, or accounting, or blood feuds.


DAY 6: PAGES 76-90
maybe it's just me, but personally if i were selecting a wife out of everybody i knew, i'd probably pick someone who wasn't still literally wetting the bed. genuinely. not metaphorically.

but that's just my pref.


DAY 7: PAGES 91-105
caught up!!! in our third consecutive hour of reading!!! alternating with 6 other books!!! is there nothing a project cannot do!!!

there is just...so much going on here.


DAY 8: PAGES 106-120
pretty badass behavior happening here...i love it when women


DAY 9: PAGES 121-135 i took major advantage of the included family tree today, i'll say that. hoo boy.


DAY 10: PAGES 136-150
this is like. Intense to read. it never gets natural or easy in the way that most books do, even really old timey ones of major significance.

but it is so damn good.


DAY 11: PAGES 151-165
a lot of these fellas up to no damn good...


DAY 12: PAGES 166-180
did anyone else notice that i accidentally started numbering the days in decreasing order. (now fixed.)

how did that happen?! am i being pranked?? if someone hacked my account, please go to my messages and see how funny it is when men send desperate DMs to faceless book reviewers. i don't wanna be alone in the humor anymore.

anyway. amaranta pulls.


DAY 13: PAGES 181-195
another weekend, another two days i accidentally took off from reading in their entirety.

this is the first time that my 15 page intervals have actually lined up with a chapter. this is the height of luxury!!


DAY 14: PAGES 196-210
this is such a fever-dream way to read a fever-dream book - cut up into senseless little chunks like this. it's already such a discombobulated and nonlinear read, and absolutely refusing to acknowledge chapters or page breaks of any kind is insane!

but fun.


DAY 15: PAGES 211-225
all the women in this book slay...they are very sexualized but also very badass. it's very fun to read about.

caught up!


DAY 16: PAGES 226-240
HOW is ursula still alive. we're on, like, our 8th aureliano.


DAY 17: PAGES 241-255
imagine being so hot it kills literally any man who doesn't leave you alone...

goals.


DAY 18: PAGES 256-270
make that like. 25 aurelianos.

back to 8 again.


DAY 19: PAGES 271-285
URSULA!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU DON'T GO!!!!!!!

i know you're like 200 years old and i just took you for granted like 3 days ago. but still.


DAY 20: PAGES 286-300
since my mourning cry for ursula, multiple people have died but she is not among them?? what a rollercoaster of emotions.

there is a girl whose name is truly Meme in this and she is just as wonderful as her name would indicate. anyway generally the women in this remain discernible and one of a kind and interesting through this whole crazy book, while the men continue to bore me and be absolutely impossible to keep straight.


DAY 21: PAGES 301-315
folks, we're behind again.

because even when my weekends are extremely lazy (read: indoors and conducted in solitude, as is my wont), and even when my weeks consist of little to no reading, something in my soul says that i should take at LEAST one saturday or sunday off entirely.

i can't help it.


DAY 22: PAGES 316-330
there are like 200 characters in this book and 196 of them have been publicly executed.


DAY 23: PAGES 331-345
ursula somehow still alive and kicking. i love when magical realism is just like..."it rained for four years straight and this woman is like 180 years old."


DAY 24: PAGES 346-360
under 100 pages to go and i feel confident stating there will never be a plot! and for that reason i have to stan.

i cannot keep these men straight for even one second and yet i could summarize each female character in a paragraph by first name alone. it's the misandrist in me. also the fact that every man has one of two names. but still.


DAY 25: PAGES 361-375
aaaand it's an almost-no-paragraph-breaks day. of course. on a morning when my entire operating system feels like it's been replaced by a rube goldberg machine, which i just almost called a lou gehrig's machine.

did i say morning? it's 12:48 p.m.

onward and upward. anyway. intense chapter!


DAY 26: PAGES 376-390
how does a book with no plot conclude? not sure. seems like a lot of death but that's also par for the course for the most part.


DAY 27: PAGES 391-405
goddamn this is one cursed family.


DAY 28: PAGES 406-420
seems pretty late to be introducing new major characters but what do i know! this book plays by its own rules.


DAY 29: PAGES 421-435
the penultimate day! and we've reached the Sweeping Statements About Love And Decline And Meaning section. i'll miss reading this book but i'm so excited to see how it concludes.


DAY 30: PAGES 436-448
whoa.


OVERALL
this book is wild, lovely, and weird, conveying in a completely unique way themes about family and time and suffering and love. i can't decide whether reading it in arbitrary doses over a month is the best or worst way to do so, but i had a good time!
rating: 3.5

“Era como si Dios hubiera puesto a prueba toda capacidad de asombro, y mantuviera a los habitantes de Macondo en un permanente vaivén entre el alborozo y el desencanto, la duda y la revelación, al extremo de que ya nadie podía saber a ciencia cierta dónde estaban los límites de la realidad.”

Esa frase de Gabriel García Márquez, ese gigante literario que nos regaló Colombia, resume perfectamente la perfección que este libro contiene. De eso se trata ese realismo mágico que transforma lo fantástico e inverosímil en algo vulgar y cotidiano. "Cien años de soledad” fue, junto con “El maestro y Margarita” y “Stoner” lo más maravilloso que leí en ese 2016.
Es impresionante y muy difícil de superar el despliegue narrativo perpetrado por Gabo en la novela. Apabullante y frondoso, genialmente desproporcionado, interminablemente descriptivo, con un desfile eterno de imágenes y visualmente tan efectivo que acobarda y deslumbra y que hace que por primera vez me cueste elaborar una reseña acorde a semejante monumento literario.
Por eso y un poco en honor a este genio único puedo simplemente enumerar a través de las casi quinientas páginas que leí y que comienza con la prehistoria fundacional de Macondo, un auténtico universo en sí mismo, gracias a la expedición de José Arcadio Buendía y Ursula Iguarán que termina en los fatídicos tiempos heredados por Aureliano Babilonia, he transitado un viaje centenario y especial, plagado de increíbles personajes, inmersos dentro de una casa maravillosa y mágica, tan única como bendita y condenada, habitada por hombres y mujeres inigualables, atormentados de pasiones desproporcionadas, locuras utópicas, incestos no prohibidos, amores que perduran entre metros y metros de sábanas húmedas de pasión y hastío, más de una treintena de revoluciones perdidas y decenas de pescaditos de oro, mujeres perseguidas por mariposas amarillas, indígenas que escriben pergaminos en sánscrito, delgados ríos de sangre que recorren geométricamente metros y metros de ciudad, sacerdotes que levitan por obra y gracia de Dios, mujeres que de tanta belleza se elevan a los cielos para no volver, un muerto que vuelve para quedarse amarrado al castaño del patio por decisión propia, una ciega que camina su casa a despreocupada displicencia y ojos bien cerrados, gemelos tan parecidos y tan distintos que se someten al voluptuoso y sensual cuerpo de una mujer que no se preocupa en diferenciarlos, pelotones de fusilamientos devenidos en cómplices de guerra, amigos leales que persiguen excentricidades literarias, batallas revolucionarias para defender causas perdidas, sangrientos bailes de carnaval de proporciones pantagruélicas, chicas que se acuestan por hambre, masacres a plena hora del día que transforman la tarde en vagones repletos de muertos, animales fantásticos de un zoo infernal, hormigas que trabajan día a día para devastar una mansión indefensa, otrora empapelada de billetes, pianolas que regalan música a pies inexpertos, suicidios atribulados por amores no correspondidos con desidia innecesaria, señoritas que comen tierra y cal de las paredes, damitas viajeras que ofician de embajadoras macondianas, diecisiete hermanos unidos por la premonitoria y fatídica marca de ceniza de una cruz en la frente, mujeres que se recluyen sólo para morir en una casa abandonada a la destrucción, lluvias interminables que duran cuatro años, ocho meses y dos días, sequías que alcanzan una década exacta de duración, santos enterrados con cientos de monedas de oro y que sólo un elegido podrá desenterrar, despilfarros, parrandas, baños de champán, desenfrenadas orgías sexuales de dos personas, criadas destinadas a parir descendientes que se asemejan entre sí, batallones de José Arcadios y Arcadios José, de Aurelianos, Úrsulas y Amarantas, Rebecas, Remedios y tantos otros, sumergidos en esta parafernalia que los arrastra a un destino único e inevitable, y que como narra Gabo en el párrafo final del libro “todo lo escrito en ellos era irrepetible desde siempre y para siempre porque las estirpes condenadas a cien años de soledad no tenían una segunda oportunidad sobre la tierra."

I imagine these people looking and saying, "Yes, but what does it mean?" As literary critics everywhere cringe or roll over in their clichéd graves I approach this text and review the same way. One Hundred Years of Solitude... beautiful, intriguing... but what does it mean? And does it have to mean anything?

Oscar Wilde: "All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril." And what about those who skip across the surface, like a stone? Able only to make so many hops before sinking, blinded by the mud, disoriented by the current to the bottom? What are we?

This was (is) a beautiful book. Like Guernica. Like Dali.

  

It's religious, and political, and sexual. ... and confusing. And as long as I haven't over-used it already - beautiful.

It's the literary Big Fish and I'm sure people will and have debated what it means, and authorial intent and it won the Nobel Prize for crying out loud, but maybe it's to display on a prominent house wall and be debated.

It's easy to get a handle on the broad and general themes - history is cyclical - not progressive, progress is a myth (and "progress" is evil), go after love, be careful not to let memories or nostalgia bow you down, seek knowledge, the world is mysterious and doesn't always make sense, don't be intimidated of anybody - especially of your past self or selves.

Beyond that it's just conjecture.

The story begins with Jose Arcadio Buendia -the patriarch - and the founding of Macondo. It follows the lineage of his descendants - many living mythically long lives and bringing in enchanted aspects. The dead live, return from the future, invent and disappear - but not in a machine of the gods way - it's more dream-like.

The lineage frustrated me. In order to illustrate his point on the circular view of history, there were 4 Joses, 22 Aurelianos, 5 Arcadios, a couple Ursulas and Remedioses to boot. And Pilar Ternera found herself grandmother or great grandmother to far too many kids. Even with the family tree in the front of the book, it was difficult to tell which Arcadio or Jose or Aureliano was which - especially given the fact that so many of the characters lived past 100. (Or even past 145.)

The book was intriguing. I loved the tidbits that came back into play throughout the book - the ash on the heads of the Aurelianos, Melquiades stopping by for a chat - that's what made it for me.

Like I said, I don't think this was a book to "get." But if you do "get it," don't cliff note it to me. I like it the way it is in my mind.

...The prose can be confusing at the start
...Repetition of names makes it challenging to keep track of who is who.
...Yet, this is a reading experience like no other ...."mysterious & magical realism" ....comic novel yet exudes a strong undercurrent of sadness, sadness and tragic futility.
...The male characters are passionate sexuality and filled with ambition --
...Most of the female characters have common sense, determination, and passionate eroticism
...Both sexes can't seem to relate to the outside world of the town they are in ...
...The novel does cover 100 years.
...This is a huge Latin American Historical novel -multi-layered epic of the Buendia family. Its rooted in reality -the development of Colombia since its independent from Spain in the 19th century. Its not only a story about this family itself but of evolution of society from 'nothing' to social and family groups --as the town itself is as much the protagonist as the family is. We see the development of religion from fairy tales and magic moving forward into today's more modern world.
...There is ongoing intermingling of the fantastic and the ordinary throughout the story. Its fascinating to observe the magic evolve with the family and the village of Macondo --which they founded after leaving their home in the mountains --searching for the ocean. They failed to find the ocean--but they built their town on the edge of the great swamp.
...The town changes and is transformed by new inventions. "A heavy Man" sold Jose Arcadio Buendia a magnet -then later a telescope. --It was the gypsies who first brought these 'inventions'.
...Obsessions, solitude, love, and war are themes throughout ...
Characters have different ways for masking their pain:
...One girl eats dirt,
...Some characters lock 'themselves' away physically,
...One man loses his mind and is tied to a chestnut tree
...Another man spends years writing on parchments -another man spends years trying to decipher them
.... You really read about 'flying carpets' --

...In 'some' ways this book reminds me of "Midnights Children" by Salmon Rushie. In both books the prose is lyrical that create deep visual imagery --magic -and fantasy.

...The ending of the story --seems to be about 'learning, then moving on'. ....

....A dazzling masterpiece!

n  n    “It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”n  n

Someone asked me about the most beautiful book i have ever read. I thought for a long time. Was it Lord of the Rings? Pride and Prejudice? Wuthering Heights?

But then I remembered this aforementioned quote. And I was surprised that it took me so long to answer the question. Because this book is most easily the most beautiful book i have ever read.

When I was 15 years old i bought this book and started reading it.
Still after one week i had only completed the first chapter.
Still i didn't give up hope.
Every six months i read it again, read the first chapter, forgot the name of every character, then started reading it again.

This went on for two years. Until the previous month while I was cleaning my bookshelves I came across this book again. And I started reading it. And this time i finally understood it. This time I saw the brilliance of Gabriel García Márquez.

The brilliance of Márquez trickles like water throughout the whole book returning again and again to illuminate the Buendías and human nature. The concepts are time, fate, humor and magic. It is in these concepts that the great playfulness and great power of the novel live. This novel does not explain reality as as experienced by one observer but rather the reality experienced by different people from different backgrounds.

The story of the Buendia family does flow in a forward narration right from the time of Jose Arcadio Buendia up until the last story of Aureliano Babilonia, but every now and then it flits across time, not just as a flashback but even fast forward. Even before you are acquainted with the characters, Marquez gives you a hint of their future, in some cases even their death, such as in the case of the firing squad that Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to face, Rebeca’s life-long isolation, Ursula’s survival for all seven generations and Amaranta’s spinsterhood.

Every single thing symbolizes something. The Gypsies, the Little Gold Fishes, the Railroad, the Golden Chamber Pot and you are left asking yourself about how, just how could a man explain all of this in mere 417 pages.

There are so many themes that i feel like i could write books upon books on the sheer brilliance of this book. This book has taught me so many things. . .It taught me about sadness, longing, obsession, loneliness, war and so many things.

Take a single sentence from this book and read it. I promise you this, you will never read anything like it. The man has used adjectives, described the places, the characters, the feelings, everything in such a way that this book becomes the definition of "Perfect".

I know most people consider it an incoherent mess of thoughts and i can see where that might come from but for me this book is the epitome of unique. This book requires all your brainpower because every sentence is loaded with information.You expect a novel to have a generous sprinkling of dialogues between people but this novel looks more like an academic reading.

But believe me when i say this it is all worth it.

n  Favorite Quotesn
The whole book actually.

n  n    “There is always something left to love.”n  n

n  n    “Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away, and he could not find it.”n  n

n  n    “He really had been through death, but he had returned because he could not bear the solitude.”n  n

n  n    “Cease, cows, life is short.”n  n

n  n    “Lost in the solitude of his immense power, he began to lose direction.”n  n

n  n    “Things have a life of their own," the gypsy proclaimed with a harsh accent. "It's simply a matter of waking up their souls.”n  n

n  n    “He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.”
n  n

n  n    “She had that rare virtue of never existing completely except for that opportune moment”n  n

n  n    “because races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth”n  n

n  Artworkn
I stole found this artwork here.





You ask what else is so special about this?

Well i have read books. Rated them 5 stars. Fawned over them. But still sometimes at night, in the quiet, while listening to the grasshoppers play their song, my mind goes back to Macondo. To the day i first entered that village and whether I liked it or not, chose it or not, my fate had been written, just like the Buendias, that they were to be born and die in solitude- and not just the Buendia family but even the village of Macondo.



P.S: I know what you are thinking.
P.P.S: Yes I can write sensible reviews.

"It was the last that remained of a past whose annihilation had not taken place because it was still in a process of annihilation, consuming itself from within, ending at every moment but never ending its ending."

After reading the 'Harry Potter' books which literally blew my mind away, I thought that nothing, no fictional creation, could top that magical world of witchcraft and wizardry, the mighty world that Rowling created... but , BOY WAS I WRONG!!
'One Hundred Years of Solitude' is one of the true wonders of modern literature.
Just as the mighty José Arcadio Buendía was fascinated by the tricks and inventions of the gypsies, so was I with the magical language of Gabriel García Márquez.
Now, having finished this extraordinary book, and sitting here to write a review that will do justice to this book, that will succeed to reveal even a fraction of my overflowing love for the wonderful, mysterious and incredibly alive town 'Macondo' and the race that was condemned to one hundred years of solitude, I find myself being eluded by the right words to say what I want to say about this book, just like the feelings of nostalgia eluded the colonel.
I find myself surrounded by the incredible images, memories, voices, and feelings of Macondo, like the yellow butterflies of Mauricio Babilonia. My heart is filled to the brim with the complete and uncompromised history of a race that began with the legendary José Arcadio Buendía and his mighty better half Úrsula Iguaran, which continued in an extraordinary flow of solitude, lucidity, clairvoyance, nostalgia, and an overwhelming repitition of the impeccable fate, which continued with the colonel who fought 32 civil wars, with his brother who had been around the world sixty-five times, their irrepeatable epic saga of a century of solitude... and for the first time in my life I came to appreciate and understand a term I have heard over and over again and wondered about- Magical Realism! I just experienced it!
With amazing wit and lucidity, incredibly intricate and alive details, and an unmatched imagination, Márquez is the dream come true author in my opinion.
To sum up my thoughts about this book- MAGIC! 450 pages of pure magic.
If you haven't read it, I recommend with my whole heart that you read it as soon as possible.

شعـــــورك بالعجـــــز

هذه هي مشكلة الرواية الكبرى

أنت في حال من الافتنان والنشوة لا يوصف
وانعقاد لسانك يسبق أفكارك
ويبقى بداخلك صراع دائم
يتجسد في محاولات مضحكة للتعبير عن هذه المتعة

لذا كنت احاول مراراً خلق التعبيرات المناسبة فأجدها تخرج لسانها في سخرية تاركة إياي في حيرة وقلة حيلة

عندما أمسكت بهذه الرواية لأول مرّة شعرت بانفصال تام عن الواقع من حولي
وجدتني بداخل ماكوندو حيّة أتنفس وأرى الشخصيات من حولي تتصارع مع حيواتها كما أراد لها خالقها العبقري

أنا كنتُ هناك ولا أبالغ بحرف

حلّقتُ بخفة بين موجات الحر العنيفة
أحسستُ بكل شهقة وبكل قطرة عرق
ذبتُ بين شقوق الجدران و داعبتُ الفراشات الصفراء


وهكذا نالت الرواية مني ثلاث قراءات في أوقات مختلفة
وكل مرة كان يلتصق بي بعض من هذا العالم

وهذه المرة
شعرتُ بكل ما هو حي وحقيقي بداخلي ينفصل عني ليحلق وحده بعيداً
بعيداً عن كل ما تحطم بداخلي ‏،وكل ما مزقته السنون في ماكوندو

مزجت العالمين معاً في مخيلتي وتمازجت الأوجاع ببعضها

من يستطيع التناغم مع العزلة أكثر من فرد معزول عن العالم في بقعة صغيرة من السكون؟


عشتُ العزلة أغلب سنوات عمري
أقلّب فتافيت عالمي بملعقة
تطاردني كل أفكار الدنيا ،وأنا معزولة بين جدران لا أريد مفارقتها

كانت خلاياي تناضل لتبقى وحيدة في عالم أراني لا أنتمي إليه
بداخلي أقمت مدناً لا يسكنها سواي
حدائق أزهارها لا تنتمي لتراب هذه الأرض
عانقتُ كل ما هو ذي معنى وتركتُ اللامعنى خارجاً يداعب ألوف من البشر يومياً

كيف يمكن لعائلة أن تناسبني أكثر من عائلة بويندياالضاربة بجذورها ف ي عزلة الروح ‏والجسد؟

لأنه مقدراً لمدينة السراب أن تذورها الرياح وتُنفى من ذاكرة البشر
في اللحظة التي ينتهي فيها أورليانو بوينديا من حلّ رموز الرقاق
وأن كل ما هو مكتوب فيها لا يمكن أن يتكرر منذ الأزل إلى الأبد
لأن السلالات المحكومة بمئة عام من العزلة ، ليست لها فرصة أخرى على الأرض

ما الذي فعله ماركيز بي؟
كيف أنتج عالماً كاملاً بين دفتي كتاب ،وأتقن صنيعته إلى هذا الحد؟
و استطاع ببضع أسماء أن يخلق تجانساً في الشكل والملامح
في الخواطر والأحلام
في قرارات الحياة
وفي المصير المؤلم
وفي نفس الوقت خلق الاختلاف يداعب التجانس خطوة بخطوة ويتمرد عليه

فصاغ أبطاله بحرفية صياغة الكولونيل أورليانو لأسماكه الذهبية
كنتُ أتخيل ماركيز يجلس منعزلا في غرفة
يمسك بشخصياته كما يمسك الكولونيل بسمكاته‏
يعجنها بيديه ويشكل أوهامها وحقيقتها بمهارة ‏
يضيف لماسته المموهة ببصمته
كما يلصق أورليانو عيون السمك الياقوتية فتتوهج الملامح في روحك
وعندما يكتمل عددها يصهرها من جديد كي ينتج جيلاً جديداً يحمل نفس الإسم والملامح بطعم ‏ومصير مؤلم جديدين

‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘

بين تعسّف آمارانتا وحزنها المذعور، وصلف فرنادنا وأطباءها المتخيلين
وبراءة ريميديوس الطفلة ودماها ، و قسوة أركاديو التي طاردته منذ اللحظة التي رأى فيها عملية إعدام
وصلابة أورسولا وعزيمتها المثيرة للإعجاب
تعيش لحظات سحرية لا معقولة
لاشيء فيها بلونٍ واحد ولا يعرف حدة الأبيض أو الأسود
فقد يأتي العذاب من الجمال الباهر والسذاجة بطريقة لا تتوقعها إلا مع وحشية القتال ودمويته

فريميديوس الجميلة تأتي في وسط الرواية مثل كائنٍ بلوري شفاف
تقترب منه مبهوراً بلئلائه
فتعانق جبلاً جليدياً تتجمد معه حتى الموت
أو كتلة زجاجية صافية بريئة تمزق لحمك وتتشرب دمك حتى الموت
مثل الجليد الذي بقى يطارد روح الكولونيل أورليانو
ومثل شبح ذيل الخنزير الذي ظل يحوم حول البيت الكبير حتى تمكن منه
لينبعث منها أنفاس موت ، لا لفحات حب
وتنتهي محلقة مع ملاءات البيت إلى السماء في طبقات الهواء العليا حيث لا تستطيع الوصول إليها أعلى طيور الذاكرة تحليقاً


مين أين يبدأ السحر هنا؟
هل رأى ميلكاديس قدر العائلة أم خطه هو بيديه؟
هل تشوف الحوادث العجيبة في بللورته السحرية أم كانت لعنة تلك التي أطلقتها تعاويذه عبر رموزها السنسكريتية؟

كيف فعلها ميلكاديس بين مواقد المخبر وفقاعات التجارب في القوارير وأزيز غليان الزئبق؟
وكيف نشأت ماكوندو حقاً؟
أهي صُممت بعرق خوسيه الأكبر وكفاح أورسولا أم نشأت بين أبخرة مخبر بدائي قدّر له أن يكون المبتدى منه وإليه المنتهى؟

من أين جاءت هذه العائلة التي يولد طفلها الأول بين المستنقعات
بدون ذيل خنزير وبرغبة أبدية في الجنون
ليشهد بداية ماكوندو
ويولد طفلها الأخير بين أنقاض البيت وسط الحشرات ولفحات الحر الأخيرة
بذيل خنزير من حبٍّ حرام
كي تتحقق النبؤة
وكي يموت الجنون فيه قبل أن يبدأ
ليشهد نهاية ماكوندو

وفي جو يشبه المستنقعات تسقط أوراق ماركيز الحاملة الرواية المنقحة في الوحل كي تعود لتجففها زوجته ورقة ورقة
تراها أكانت لعنة ميلكاديس لحقت بها؟
!

خاض الكولونيل أوريليانو بوينديا 32 حرباً أهلية خسرها جميعاً
ومن خلال كفاحه المكلل بخيبة الأمل
وإدراكه في النهاية أنه خاض تلك الحروب لينتهي منعزلاً أكثر مما كان ساخطاً على العالم وعلى نفسه
وعلى كل فكرة بدأت نبيلة وانتهت محطمة بوحشية الدم وشهوة السلطة

و ماركيز كان دوما مناهضاً لجميع الممارسات القمعية لدكتاتوريات العالم ودكتاتورية أميركا اللاتينية بشكل خاص ، ومؤيداً لثورات التحرر
وقد خاض جده حروباً في أمريكا اللاتينية ، وكان ميلاد ماركيز يوافق سنة مذبحة إضراب مزارع الموز والتي أنكرتها الحكومة فأعاد إحياءها في الرواية

*-*

"يقول ماركيز "الخيال هو تهيئة الواقع ليصبح فناً

تنتمي هذه الرواية لنوع أدبي يسمّى
magical realism
وفي هذا النوع يسري الخيال محلقاً في بيئة واقعية بحيث يشكل جزءاً طبيعياً منها
حيث يقوم حدث شديد الغرابة بغزو حياة منطقية واقعية
وإن كان المؤلف قد وصف روايته بأنها تنتمي لأدب الهروب من الواقع

كثيرة كانت الرموز الممزوجة بالخيال في الرواية
فبين السفينة الغارقة ، ووحل المستنقعات ، وشجرة كستناء صبور
وبيانولا ترقد في الظلام تصاحبها ملاءة بيضاء
عاش الأبطال حيواتهم العجيبة في عزلة أبدية تحتضن برفق هذه الصور في دواخلهم إلى الأبد

أكثر ثلاث مشاهد ت��لغلوا إلى روحي ألماً

آمارنتا تضع يدها في في جمر الموقد إلى أن تألمت إلى حد لم تعد تشعر معه بالألم
ليبقى لحمها المحروق وضمادة الشاش السوداء في ذهني طوال الرواية يطاردني
*
*
لحظة إطلاق النار على ماوريسيو بابيلونيا وكأنني أنا التي أنهار في غرفة نوم ميمي
*
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ولحظة اكتشاف آخر أورليانو من السلالة الوليد يتحول لجلد منفوخ بعد التهام النمل الأحمر إياه‏

بين صفحات الرواية قضيتُ وقتاً لا يضاهى
أقرأ ملحمة من أعظم ما كُتب على مر العصور
عن مدينة نبتت في الوحل وغاصت فيه مجدداً
لتتركني مع آخر صفحة أود العودة إليها من جديد
كي أتمتع بهذا العالم الخرافي حتى الثمالة
لتذروه الرياح مجددا ،ويختفي من ذاكرة البشر
ثم يعود نابضاً في صفحات ماركيز
فتتشربه ذاكرة القراء إلى الأبد

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...races condemned to one hundred years of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth.

n  n Time is unhinged in this story. Is it even a story or just an examination of what narcotics can do when combined with existing creativity? Inasmuch as The Atlantic describes this book—as stated by Latin American critic Angel Rama—as a cosmopolitan story that could correct the path of the modern novel, I still believe drugs were involved. At the very least, powerful hallucinogens.



This book covers Latin American history from pre-colonial to pre-modern times. According to Ted-Ed, Marquez could have been influenced by his maternal grandparents, whereby his grandfather was a veteran of the Thousand Days War, and his grandmother's omnipresent superstition led to the story's foundation. Their house in Antarctica was where the author got the inspiration for Macondo.

But what is Macondo, really? When I started this book, I went into it aware that it's a masterpiece. Rushdie has called it "the greatest novel of any language in the last fifty years". It begins as a barreling hypnotic narrative. Many stories feel like a song. Intro, hook, chorus, bridge, crescendo, fade to black. There's a recognizable resonance in pacing and stylistic tropes. The introduction, the inciting incident, the adventure, the conflict, the heroes failing, the darkest hour, then audiences bate their breaths for a season renewal. But this book eschews everything you think you know about narrative storytelling. To the point where I was certain it was it's own style. But no, it's just a different style of narration. So different it may be the godfather of magical realism.

In the first line, Aureliano faces a firing squad. Colonel Aureliano Buendia is the first Aureliano in this story (there are several). Jose Arcadio Buendia, the very first Buendia, discovers and settles in Macondo after a failed expedition to find the ocean. Then follows a tale of woe, sorrow, joy, drama, romance, murder, war. Everything possible and improbable under the sun. From suitors precipitated by yellow butterflies to incest babies born with pig tails.

It sometimes felt like an ode to adventure. The worship of a willingness to find parts unknown. n  

That conversation, the biting rancor that he felt against his father, and the imminent possibility of wild love inspired a serene courage in him.

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Anything could inspire love, rebellion, anger. Anything. This is considered the most seminal imagination novel. The book felt like it could describe everything. Love is a feeling that was more relaxing and deep than the happiness, wild but momentary....
Loneliness is After many years of death the yearning for the living was so intense, the need for company so pressing, so terrifying the nearness of that other death which exists within death, that Prudencio Aguilar had ended up loving his worst enemy.

This book is also expansive and thematic. It covers family drama with the same gravitas, or lack thereof, as war. It doesn't give you room to breathe. When Jose Arcadio of the Big Dick returns from his life as a sailor, he recounts his experience, his exhilaration at the open seas just as easily as he does the casual cannibalism they engaged in to survive. At one point, when Macondo is absorbed into a war between Liberals and fascists conservatives, the people have to decide what's more important-their liberties or forced peace. The war goes on for so long that eventually, the lines blur, and the war is only perpetuated for power grabbing. It evoked memories of how Kenyan freedom fighters were erased from the annals of history and the power taken by tyrants who coopted their movement and hoarded power. Actions of which we're still seeing repercussions. Even MCU action movies give you audience applause breaks. Marquez has no interest in letting you absorb the impact of finding out a Jose Arcadio is fucking his auntie.

The characters were the best part of the first half. Ursula, the matriarch of the Buendia family, is a force to be reckoned with. At first she starts out a doormat to Jose Arcadio the First's whims. Even blithely accepting his attempts to alchemize her inheritance into gold. At the time, all he managed to do was turn it into a black blob. That she didn't let him catch hands is baffling but the story continues. And later, we come to appreciate her innate strength. She's the best female character in this book. Probably even the best character.

There is no scarcity of characters and caricatures. From self-martyrising women who chronically reject good men only to sleep with their relatives, to self-righteous Queens of Sheba wannabes who had a habit of using inane euphemisms to the point of incoherence. Once, Amaranta told Fernanda

n  "I was saying," she told her, "that you're one of those people who mix up their ass and their ashes."n

There is a character so ignorantly beautiful she'd be the lead in all the One Direction songs. There is an Aureliano borne out of wedlock who is raised like a feral beast and ostracised from society until he learns to love the right people in the wrong way. There is a rescued teenager who eats whitewall and dirt when encumbered by fits of hysteria or anxiety.

There is a coin-shaped man who enters an alarming number of eating competitions and descendants who are obsessed with a knowledge that was ultimately meaningless, like all tragedies and success stories come to be.

This story revolves around an indecipherable manuscript whose unraveling is implied to be this twisted yarn of a tale. A cyclic saga that shows you that life is potentially what you make of it until other people jeopardize or enrich it. This story felt like the never-ending train, a fever dream. And at the book's second half, it felt like a long train ride to nowhere.

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