n  روزی که قرار شود بَشری در کوپه درجه یک سفر کند و ادبیات در واگنِ کالا، دخلِ دنیا آمده است
صفحه 394n

n  یکمn
چه جای آن است که سخن از این رمان را، با تاکیدِ بر شهرتِ مارکز و آمارِ فروشِ "صد سال تنهایی" آغاز کنم؟!. مگر نَه اینست که فقره یِ تکرارِ مُکررات، نباید و نشاید که جایی در یک ریویویِ مطلوب داشته باشد. بگذارید از حس و حالم در دوران سکونتم در دهکده یِ صد سال تنهایی بگویم. این رُمان مرا پیر کرد، بدین صورت که ابتدا، یادم آورد که چقدر پیر شده ام، بَعدش تازه وقتی این را فهمیدم، واقعاََ پیرتَرهَم شدم. در این داستان صدساله، "زمان"، بازیچه ای مبهم می نماید. وسیله ای برای تکرارِ هزارباره یِ یک نام در چند کالبد و چندین نسلِ پیاپی، در جغرافیائی واحد و عجیب، و البته منزوی از دنیایِ اطراف، با مردمانی شدید در طغیان، تاریخی نحیف، خاطراتی باورناپذیر و خَمودگیِ پی در پیِ جان هایِ جوان که در روستایِ کوچکِ داستان-"ماکوندو"-، که خود جهانی ست بَس بزرگ، رُخ می دهد. "بوئندیا" هائی که شش نسلِ پی در پی، داستان بر مدارِ زیستِ جادویی آن ها می چرخد، همه می دانند وقتی روزگارِ صد ساله یِ شان، یکایک، همه را به شلاق "گُذرِ عمر" می نوازد، هیچکدامشان نمی تواند از این چاله یِ زمان بنُیاد به سلامت بِجَهد. گرچه چند نفرشان هم، به ظَنِ خویش، تحتِ پوششِ ابداع و ابتکار، داد و ستد، مهاجرت و مشارکت و حتی انقلاب و شورش، گام هائی بلندتر از زمان بَرمی دارد تا از ثانیه پیشین سبقت بگیرد، غافل از این اَند که، "ثانیه"، پیشین و پَسین ندارد، نشان به آن نشان که، ما داریم دور می زنیم، یعنی راستش را بخواهید، "زمان" دارد ما را دور می زند

n  دومn
صد سالِ پیش-کَمی پیش و پَس-، پدربزرگ و مادر بزرگِ مارکز نامی، درون ذهنشان آرزوییِ شهوانی-غریزی و البته با نتایجی 100ساله پروراندند. همین مارکز هم، صد سال بعد از آن روزِ کَذا، محصول این یکی شدنِ تَن+هایِ سابقاََ تَنها شد. بعد، همین مارکز، یادش آورد 100سالِ پیش نبوده و باید می بوده، خواست با جادویِ "ملکیادس" ادبیات، برود به صد سالِ بعد و چون بنایِ تنها سفر کردن داشت، در و پنجره بَر خود بست و "صد سال تنهایی" را نوشت تا در 100 سالِ بعد از اتمامِ رمان، آنانی که در یک و یا چند روز، به اندازه صد سالِ تمام، تنهایی کشیده اَند، از آن تنهاییِ استخوان سوز، به "صد سال تنهایی" یِ مارکز پناه برند

من در سطر سطرِ "صد سال تنهایی"، هر قَدمی و آنی، مارکز را دیدم که مشتاقانه آرزومندِ سبقت از زمانِ حال بود، پیشی گرفتنی رئال و جادویی!. از همین رو، مارکز در رمانَش، خواست تا که داستانی صد سال و یک ثانیه ای بگوید و آن یک ثانیه یِ آخری، مال خودش باشد، درکش کند، در خودِ آن یک ثانیه با علمِ به بودن در آن ثانیه، و با عشقِ بدانِ ثانیه زیست کند، غافل از ناممکن بودنِ سبقت از زمان!. نهایتاََ او سخت باخت، و البته مُعترف به باختَش
هم بود. اعتراف نامه اَش را که نامِ صد سال تنهایی به خود گرفت، بِسالِ 1353 و توسطِ جاویدنام "بهمن فرزانه"، به فارسی ترجمه شد. نیم قرن بعد، نوبتِ من رسید، رمان را خواندم و 100 سال تنها شدم. خواندنی که در فاصله یک تَک ثانیه و صد سالِ تمام اتفاق افتاد

: رمان صد سال تنهائی، در صفحه 407، در سطرَکی کوتاه، چنین خلاصه می شود
n  اولینِ آن ها را به درختی بستند و آخرینِ آن ها طعمه مورچگان می شودn

مارکز، آئینه یِ سخن گوئی است که شما را بهn  "یادآوریِ زمانِ از دست رفته"n نائل می گرداند اگر که مردِ رَه بوده و توشه ای بر دوش و کفشَکی آهنی بر پای داشته باشید، با او در مسیرِ رئالیسم جادوئی-این دیوانه ترین سبکِ رمان!-، دست در دستِ ذوقِ او پیش خواهید رفت. کافی ست 100سال را در 400صفحه تورق کنید. نپرسید چطور، چون می شود زمان را هم تورق کرد. آری!. مارکز بخوانید، هَمو که بعد از یادآوریِ زمانی که از دست مان رفته، می رِساندِمان به "جست و جویِ زمانِ از دست رفته". منطقش هم اینست که، هر گُم شده ای، ابتدا باید فقدان و نبودَش به یاد آورده شود، وَبعد آنگاه، می توانبه جست و جویِ این گُم شده رفت. اینی را که وصفش رفت، اوئی که شرحَش گفتم، یاد من آورد. جایِ شلاقِ گُذرِ زمان بر روحم را و مارکز را می گویم که دومی، اولی را یاد آورد. یادِ من یکی که آورده، شما را نمی دانم. یادم آورده که من خیلی پیر شده ام. زودتر از آن "دیرزمانی" که انتظارش را می کشیدم

n  سومn
راستی برایِ خودم -به درست یا غلط-، n  رئالیسم جادوییn را چنین تمثیل کردم
انگاری در رودخانه ای که دیگران در آن آبِ سهمگینِ چون سیل جاری را می بینند که بر بستری از سنگ و شن می تازد، با رئالیسمِ جادوئی، می توان بستری از پنبه نرم و نازکی دید، ابریشمی نوازشگر، که بادِ هوا مستانه و کودک وار بجایِ آبِ تازان، در آن می رقصد و پیش و پَس رفتنش هم در هاله ای از ابهام است. ابهامِی شبیه شنیدنِ این جمله معروف و غریب، n  من گُنگِ خواب دیده و عالَم همه کَرn

n  چهارمn
توصیه می کنم رمان را بی وقفه بخوانید. شجره نامه اول کتاب را همیشه کنار دست داشته باشید. در اواخر رمان، یک طلاقِ عاطفی میان این شاهکارو شما محتمل است، اگرکه چنین شد، از بهرِ حلِ فراق، روزی سه یا چهار صفحه، چشمانِ نازدارتان را مهمانِ ذوقِ مارکز کنید تا شاید وصالی مجدد حاصل گردد و این مسیرپیمائیِ فراموشی دوست با مارکزِ عزیز، در ذهن تان آبی پاشی شود. من کتاب را با ترجمه "بهمن فرزانه" خواندم. خیلی خوب بود. ترجمه "کاوه میر عباسی" از انتشاراتِ کتابسرای نیک را هم گرفته اَم، بخوانمش، حتماََ باز دستی بر سرو رویِ این ریویو می کِشَم. مقایسه ترجمه ها بماند برای صد سالِ دیگر. n  صد سالی که خیلی زودتر از زمانی که فکرش را می کنید، فرا می رسدn

إحساس غريب أثناء القراة و كأننى أركض وراء الكلمات و خلف السطور حتى أستطيع متابعة تلاحق الأحداث و كأننى أقرأ ألف ليلة و ليلة فلا مجال للتفصيل و لا مجال للتكرار.

إنه يقص علينا قرنا من الزمان بأربعة أجيال من البشر و عشرات الحكايا و الأساطير و الأحداث التاريخية مع شذرات من الفلسفة البسيطة و الموعظة الكامنة فيما وراء الحدث و الرأي السياسى لابسا قناع الرواية متسترا برداء الحكى.

تود لو لم تترك الكتاب أبدا إلا و قد انهيتها و تود ألا تنهيها أبدا و تشتاق لمتابعة الأحداث من البداية للنهاية.

الإنطباع الأول هو لماذا تكرار الأسماء في كل جيل و أحيانا في الجيل الواحد لدرجة أنه ذكرنى بنكتة تقول: كل اخواتى اسمهم إبراهيم ما عدا أخويا عصام إسمه مصطفى.

قراءة أولى لماركيز و لن تكون الأخيرة بالطبع.

n  The world is so unpredictable. Things happen suddenly, unexpectedly. We want to feel we are in control of our own existence. In some ways we are, in some ways we're not. We are ruled by the forces of chance and coincidence.
-Paul Auster n


Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. At that time Macondo was a village of twenty adobe houses, built on the bank of a river of clear water that ran along a bed of polished stones, which were white and enormous, like prehistoric eggs. The World was so recent that many things lacked names, and in order to indicate them it was necessary to point.


Life starts again after every stroke of death. ‘Nihilo ex Nihilo’, the philosophical expression comes to my mind as soon as finished the book; the expression translates into ‘nothing out of nothing’ which means that there is no break in-between a world that did not exist and one that did, since it could not be created ex nihilo in the first place. Macondo recreates the history of universe/ s in such a way that when existence of one universe reduces to nill, the other universe takes shape out of nothing however the rules in the new universe may not conform to the laws of the first one. Eventually, we come across the solitude of existence, though we may develop myths- which become tradition/ culture over the years- but we may not be able to overcome it. Solitude and Freedom are two such themes which have been very close to human heart after being ‘civilized’. Human beings may have indefinite degrees of freedom which allow them to act or define their life in infinite ways but eventually solitude of existence curbs their degrees of freedom. Or we may say that existence is solitude- since we crawl in nothingness. Every act of life is like a fast revolving axis on which all the possibilities or probabilities- including imaginations- throw themselves and some of those strike sometimes and others some other times, and those probabilities manifest themselves in the form of hope, myths, dreams, fears, madness and imaginations. There is perhaps one thing which is common between different universes- the endurance of life, the endurance to keep moving no matter what and that’s what underlines One Hundred Years of Solitude.




It is the second time I read this epic jewel of literature. One Hundred of Solitude, surely one of the most entertaining books ever written in Latin America, does not reveal what it conceals beyond simple text in first reading which may provide entertainment and recognition; rather it demands a second reading which is in effect the ‘real’ reading. And this demand is the essential secret of this great mythic and ‘simultaneist’ novel. It demands multiple readings probably because it supposes multiple authorships. The first reading may be straight forward, having facts of founding family of Mocando, sequentially, chronologically, with a biblical and Rabelaisian hyberbole: Aureliano son of Jose Aureliano son of Aureliano son of Jose Aureliano- which also underlines the tradition of Latin America. The second reading begins the moment the first ends: the reader feels that the miracle-working gypsy Melquiades has already written the events of Mocando and he is revealed as the narrator of the book one hundred years later. The second reading did something unimaginable – it combines in a peculiar form, the order of the actual events with the order of the probable events so that the former destiny is liberated by latter wish. At that instant, you may realize that two things occur simultaneously: the book begins again, but this time the chronological history runs simultaneously as a mythic historicity, and perhaps that’s where the world famous- but least understood- genre of Magic Realism took its steps of adulthood and the whole world marvel at this ingenious literary achievement.

She finally mixed up the past with the present in such a way that in the two or three waves of lucidity that she had before she died, no one knew for certain whether she was speaking about what she felt or what she remembered. Little by little she was shrinking, turning into a foetus, becoming mummified in life to the point that in her last months she was a cherry raisin lost inside of her nightgown, and the arm that she always kept raised looked like the paw of a marimonda monkey.

The profusion and meticulous vagueness of the information seemed to Aureliano Segundo so similar to the tales of spiritualists that he kept on with his enterprise in spite of the fact that they were in August and they would have to wait at least three years in order to satisfy the conditions of the prediction.





The book is a rich and brilliant chronicle of life and death, and the tragicomedy of humankind. In the noble, ridiculous, beautiful, and tawdry story of the Buendía family, one sees all of humanity, just as in the history, myths, growth, and decay of Macondo, one sees all of Latin America. Love and lust, war and revolution, riches and poverty, youth and senility - the variety of life, the endlessness of death, the search for peace and truth -- these universal themes dominate the novel. Whether he is describing an affair of passion or the voracity of capitalism and the corruption of government, Gabriel García Márquez always writes with the simplicity, ease, and purity that are the mark of a master. The survivors of the epic saga of Macondo- Aureliano and Amaranta Ursula, ‘secluded by solitude and love and by the solitude of love in a house where then begins to unfold the mythic, whose simultaneous and renewable character will not be made clear until the final pages, when the reader realizes that whole story has been written already by the gypsy Melquiades, the seer who was present at the foundation of Macondo and who, to keep it in existence, had to resort to the same trick as Jose Arcadio Buendia: writing. There lies the profound paradox of the second reading of One Hundred Years of Solitude: everything was known, before it happened, by the sacred, utopian, mythic, founding prophecies of Melquiades, but nothing will be known if Melquiades does not record it in writing. Like Cervantes, Garcia Marquez establishes the frontiers of reality within a book and the frontiers of a book within a reality.

The final protection, which Aureliano had begun to glimpse when he let himself be confused by the love of Amaranta Ursula, was based on the fact that Melquiades had not put events in the order of man's conventional time, but had concentrated a century of daily episodes, in such a way that they coexisted in one instant.

Ursula's lucidity, her ability to be sufficient unto herself made one think that she was naturally conquered by the weight of her hundred years, but even though it was obvious that she was having trouble seeing, no one suspected that she was totally blind. She had so much time at her disposal then and so much interior silence to watch over the life of the house that she was the first to notice Meme's silent tribulation.




The legends, stories which have been told us over generations through ancestors, society and other pillars of civilized society, become myths over long period of time, time plays important role in amalgamation of reality and myth. Memory also plays important role in creation and re creation of Macondo. Memory repeats the models, the matrixes of the beginning, in the same way as Colonel Buendia, again and again, makes gold fishes which he remelts to make them again….to be continually reborn, to ensure with strict, ritual, heartfelt acts the permanence of the cosmos. Macondo itself tell all its ‘real’ history and all its ‘fictional’ history, all the notary’s evidence and all the rumors, legends, slanders, pious lies, exaggerations and inventions that no one written down, that the old have told to the children, that the village women have whispered to the priest, that the sorcerers have invoked in the middle of the night and the street vendors cried out in the square.



What are we up to now? Myth or reality. Myth denies reality or where there is reality, no scope for myth. Perhaps myth deny history but the dead, oppressive, factual history which Marquez sheds off in order to bring about, in this very book, a dream like mix of different Latin Americas set in different times. A meeting with the living past, the matrix, which is tradition of severance and risk: each generation of Buendia will know the death of one son in a revolution- a movement- that will never end. After which, we have meeting with imaginative- Utopian world: ice reaches the torrid jungle of Macondo for the first time casing the surprise of the supernatural: the magic will be inextricably linked to usefulness. And eventually, a meeting with the absolute present in which we remember and want: a vivid novel like the long chronicle of a century of solitude in Columbia, but read as an invention committed, precariously, to the peripatetic papers of Melaquiades. Macondo- A place that will hold everyone, that will hold all of us: the seat of time, the enshrinement of all times, the meeting ground of memory and a desire, a common place where everything can begin again: a book. Marquez transforms the evil in his work into beauty and humour- dark humour. Marquez realizes that our history is not only destined: in an obscure way, we have also wanted it. Garcia Marquez weaves a universe wherein a right to the imagination is able to distinguish between mystifications in which a dead past wants to pass for the living present and mystifications in which a living present reclaims the life of the past.

Upset by two nostalgias facing each other like two mirrors, he lost his marvellous sense of unreality and he ended up recommending to all of them that they leave Macondo, that they forget everything he had taught them about the world and the human heart, that they shit on Horace, and that wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end .

It was then that she understood the vicious circle of Colonel Aureliano Buendia's little gold fishes. The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness. It pained her not to have had that revelation many years before when it would have still been possible to purify memories and reconstruct the universe under a new light and evoke without trembling Pietro Crespi's smell of lavender at dusk and rescue Rebecca from her slough of misery, not out of hatred or out of love but because of the measureless understanding of solitude.



The books leaves you with a hollowness in your heart- the kind of hollowness you feel when you happens to encounter end of life- even in some other forms, a sense of exhaustion surrounds your mind and you find it hard to gather your thoughts and put them into words. I am feeling the same right now as I am writing this review, but life takes birth again and time moves on, that is also theme of the book. The book is must for everyone who wants to leave mundane and experience magic of life.

n  n    5/5n  n

*edited on 29.05.18

"Sometimes great books have deleterious consequences for other writers, creating footsteps that can’t be walked in, shade the sun can’t penetrate, expectations that have no grounds. Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude crushed the hopes of scores of young Colombian writers, and the spread of magic realism was not exactly beneficent, since it takes a magician to work magic and because rabbits don’t hide in just anybody’s hat."

– William H Gass, in the essay 'Influence' from A Temple of Texts.

This is a book of such terrible and heartbreaking beauty that I'm still reeling from the impact! Books like Nightwood & One Hundred Years of Solitude are proof that greatness shdn't be judged by size alone. This tale is perfect cause in it Márquez finally found the "right tone"–

...the tone that I eventually used in One Hundred Years of Solitude. It was based on the way my grandmother used to tell her stories. She told things that sounded supernatural and fantastic, but she told them with complete naturalness. When I finally discovered the tone I had to use, I sat down for eighteen months and worked every day.*

The mythical Macondo could be any place on earth where mankind was promised paradise but destroyed it as only man could.

Although Márquis said that he only wrote this as a book about incest, it's quite clear that it is a metaphor for the political & social history of Colombia rather broadly of Latin America's colonial past & its tentative march towards modernity as most events described herein are based on facts: Márquez’s native town of Aracataca as the inspiration for the fictional Macondo, the long & bloody civil war roiling South America 1850 onwards, the political assasinations, the arrival of the railways & the cinema, the cruel exploitation of Colombia by the American United Fruit Company, & the horrific massacre of the protesting workers by the Colombian military at the behest of the foreign imperialists, are some of the instances.

"García Márquez’s masterpiece, however, appeals not just to Latin American experiences, but to larger questions about human nature. It is, in the end, a novel as much about specific social and historical circumstances—disguised by fiction and fantasy—as about the possibility of love and the sadness of alienation and solitude."

Just as Rushdie described the waning years of the British Empire & then a free India's tryst with destiny through the Sinai family in Midnight's Children ( a book inspired by this book!), the narrative here is told through the meteoric rise & rise & subsequent decline & fall of the House of Buendias — the first family of Macondo who become a symbol of the culture & the country.
Like the famous first families around the world – the Kennedys, the Perons, the Gandhis, the Bhuttos – their charisma carries their curse:

The charismatic patriarch José Aureliano Buendia, who starts with such dreams & promise, like so many of his descendants, eventually resigns himself:
"We shall never get anywhere. . . . We'll rot our lives away here without the benefits of science". (19)
His descendants all inherit the same difficulty, and thus all eventually succumb to the power of nostalgia, to opting out of their historical reality, which they have never really understood clearly. They cope with their failure by an inner withdrawal...Loneliness in Macondo and among the Buendias is not an accidental condition, something that could be alleviated by better communications or more friends, and it is not the metaphysical loneliness of existentialists, a stage shared by all men. It is a particular vocation, a shape of character that is inherited, certainly, but also chosen, a doom that looks inevitable but is freely endorsed. The Buendias seek out their solitude, enclose themselves in it as if it were their shroud. As a result they become yet another emblem of the unreality.**

What's in a name? A lot, it seems!

The theme of a circular time is emphasised again & again through many devices - The multi-generational Buendia family keep giving the same ancestral names over & over to the children of the family, any attempt to break away from this practice is thwarted. The reduction in names' length means reduction in other ways as well – the boys are less of men - more dissolute, purposeless & solitary. The Buendias put the D back in dysfunctional : incest, adultery, debauchery, self-centeredness & excesses of all sorts abound. By having the same names they are condemned to repeat the mistakes of their earlier namesakes - first as farce then as tragedy; their ineffectual repetitive behaviour symbolised in the futile thirty-two armed uprisings & the little gold fishes of Colonel Aureliano Buendia.

The narrative plays out like a Greek tragedy – The characters seem fated to act out their lives as if there were no other way – for example, the seventeen boys of Colonel Aureliano, with the Ash Wednesday cross on their foreheads, are sitting ducks for political vendetta. The Biblical allusions are woven throughout – The Paradise discovered & lost, the deluge & plagues & finally Macondo is so deep in sins that like Sodom & Gomorrah, it has to be destroyed. The ending is heartbreaking but it couldn't have ended any other way. But if you read closely, there is a ray of hope!

I can't recommend this book enough - the epic scope of its narrative, the Magical Realism that became a standard for others writing in this genre, the deeply flawed but oh so human & memorable characters & Márquez's exquisite & at times hypnotic prose will keep you glued to this profoundly sad & disturbing tale.

A note regarding spoilers

Readers who are finicky about their spoiler alerts shd avoid this book – after every few pages the omniscient narrator gleefully announces the gruesome deaths that will befall the various members of the Buendia family, not to mention the back & forth in narrative time, the predictions & foreshadowing galore.
Point is, spoiler alerts are for ninnies – Adults just get on with it!

(*) Paris Review - The Art of Fiction No. 69, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

http://www.theparisreview.org/intervi...

(**) A must read:
Lecture on One Hundred Years of Solitude
http://records.viu.ca/~johnstoi/intro...

This too:

Memory and Prophecy, Illusion and Reality Are Mixed and Made to Look the Same
http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/06/15...

Hmm, I finally read this after years of putting it off and I confess that I was a little underwhelmed.

Stylistically, I think it's quite beautiful. I love the way Marquez describes the setting and the time in question - it makes for an extremely quotable book. The imagery is woven in with the human interactions to create a sense of that so-called "magical realism" that extends beyond the explicitly supernatural:

n  “He dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”n

However, the story about the many generations of the Buenzia family is more than a little messy. Most of the time it reads like a random incoherent stream of events and only translates into greater meaning when you study the novel's symbolism.

I think the two major themes of this novel - repetition of history and the fine line between reality and the supernatural - are explored much better by books like Wuthering Heights. Which, while complex, doesn't give its readers a headache, but does include similar elements: the appearance of ghosts, multiple generations with similar names, history repeating itself, etc. I do understand that One Hundred Years of Solitude gives it a unique spin with particular regard to Latin American history, though.

My final point probably invites some insults to my intelligence, but here it is: I think this book is very easy to appreciate, and very difficult to like. It's fine, even important, for certain books to require extra effort from the reader, but I also kind of agree with Adam's comment: "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."

Wow, here I am having finally (!) read a gem of all times: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez; and I´m feeling good :)

I have witnessed the transformational rise and fall of the newly founded village, Macondo, and the Buendía family. Captivated by the magical realism I moved between the past, the present and the future filled with myths and reality at the same time!

I was mentally in a completely different zone when reading this book!

In awe of Ursula´s strength and endurance over one hundred years, I felt the destinies of every character repeating themselves over and over again as they ultimately revolved around solitude.

Every word feels like a pearl in your hands that you try to string together to capture the plot, but you will find yourself collecting the pearls as they spread everywhere, whilst you admire each and every single one´s beauty!

Magical realism at its best and a source of inspiration for many authors around the globe!

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My experience with Gabriel García Márquez so far ( Love in the Time of Cholera  and One Hundred Years of Solitude) have not been my favorite reading experiences. I feel that I did enjoy One Hundred Years of Solitude more, but in general I do not think his writing is for me. However, this does not discredit in anyway the writing and story – and I can very easily see why some people like his writing and why it is considered a classic.

I am sure people want an explanation of why I cannot give Márquez and his books a glowing review. Mainly, I just think the subject matter and style are not for me. While I usually enjoy magical realism, the way that he tells his various stories only gets me truly invested 1/5 of the time. The rest of the time I tend to be either bored and/or confused. Often, I find myself revisiting sections to make sure I understood what I had just experienced. With that being said, I did find myself more invested and interested in this book over Cholera – is that because it is a better book or because I knew better what I was getting into? I am not sure.

This book is worth a try if you want an interesting atmospheric, genre-specific historical fiction story (I hope that description makes sense . . . it made sense to me in my mind!). Also, it is worth trying if you are “collecting the classics”. But, if you are looking for an exciting or riveting read, I think chances are low that you will find it here.

(Book 399 from 1001 books) - Cien Años de Soledad = One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez

One Hundred Years of Solitude is a landmark 1967 novel by Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez that tells the multi-generational story of the Buendía family, whose patriarch, José Arcadio Buendía, founds the town of Macondo, a fictitious town in the country of Colombia.

Characters: Úrsula Iguarán, Remedios Moscote, Remedios, la bella, Fernanda del Carpio, Aureliano Buendía, José Arcadio Buendía, Amaranta Buendía, Amaranta Úrsula Buendía, Aureliano Babilonia, José Arcadio Segundo, Aureliano Segundo, Aureliano José, Pilar Ternera, Rebeca Buendía, Santa Sofía de la Piedad, Arcadio Buendía, José Arcadio Buendía, hijo, Meme Buendía, Petra Cotes, Pietro Crespi, Melquiades.

One Hundred Years of Solitude is the story of seven generations of the Buendía Family in the town of Macondo.

The founding patriarch of Macondo, José Arcadio Buendía, and Úrsula Iguarán, his wife (and first cousin), leave Riohacha, Colombia, after José Arcadio kills Prudencio Aguilar after a cockfight for suggesting José Arcadio was impotent.

One night of their emigration journey, while camping on a riverbank, José Arcadio dreams of Macondo, a city of mirrors that reflected the world in and about it.

Upon awakening, he decides to establish Macondo at the riverside; after days of wandering the jungle, his founding of Macondo is utopic.

José Arcadio Buendía believes Macondo to be surrounded by water, and from that island, he invents the world according to his perceptions.

Soon after its foundation, Macondo becomes a town frequented by unusual and extraordinary events that involve the generations of the Buendía family, who are unable or unwilling to escape their periodic (mostly self-inflicted) misfortunes.

For years the town is solitary and unconnected to the outside world, with the exception of the annual visit of a band of gypsies, who show the townspeople technology such as magnets, telescopes, and ice.

The leader of the gypsies, a man named Melquíades, maintains a close friendship with José Arcadio, who becomes increasingly withdrawn, obsessed with investigating the mysteries of the universe presented to him by the gypsies.

Ultimately he is driven insane, speaking only in Latin, and is tied to a chestnut tree by his family for many years until his death. ...

صد سال تنهایی - گابریل گارسیا مارکز انتشارات امیرکبیر، ترجمه بهمن فرزانه؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش: ماه آوریل سال 1978میلادی

عنوان یک: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: بهمن فرزانه؛ انتشارات امیرکبیر در سال 1353، در 363ص، اما همین ترجمه بهمن فرزانه بارها توسط انتشاراتیهای متفاوت چاپ شده؛ انتشاراتی دادار، 1380 در 360ص، شابک 9647294352؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان کلمبیایی - سده 20م

عنوان دو: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: محمدرضا راهور، نشر تهران، آبگون، چاپ نخست 1379، در 496ص، شابک 9649166831؛ همین ترجمه را انتشارات شیرین در سال 1382، با شابک 9645564937؛ و انتشارات آربابان در سال 1380، با شابک 9647196040؛ منتشر کرده اند

عنوان سه: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: محسن محیط، نشر تهران، محیط، چاپ نخست 1374، در 479ص، شابک 9646246125؛ چاپ پنجم 1378؛

عنوان چهار: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: کیومرث پارسای، نشر تهران، آربابان، چاپ نخست 1382، در 560ص، شابک 9647196229؛ چاپ بیست و سوم 1393؛

عنوان پنج: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: حبیب گوهری راد، نشر تهران، رادمهر، چاپ نخست 1388، در 420ص، شابک 9789648673678؛ و انتشارات جمهوری در سال 1388 در 420ص و شابک 9789646974961؛

عنوان شش: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: مژگان فامیلی، نشر تهران، لیدا، چاپ نخست 1391، در 552ص، شابک 9786006538549؛

عنوان هفت: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: رضا دادویی، نشر تهران، آدورا، چاپ نخست 1391، در 416ص، شابک 9786009307197؛

عنوان هشت: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: محمدرضا سحابی، نشر تهران، انتشارات مصدق، چاپ نخست 1393، در 416ص، شابک 9786009442119؛

عنوان نه: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: زهره روشنفکر، نشر تهران، مجید، چاپ نخست 1388، در 456ص، شابک 9789644531064؛

عنوان ده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: محمدصادق سبط شیخ، نشر تهران، تلاش، چاپ نخست 1390، در 540ص، شابک 9786005791426؛

عنوان یازده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: ناصر جوادخانی، نشر تبریز، یاران، چاپ نخست 1390، در 400ص، شابک 9789642340828؛

عنوان دوازده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: مریم فیروزبخت، نشر تهران، حکایتی دیگر، چاپ نخست 1388، در 518ص، شابک 9789642756124؛ چاپ چهارم 1392؛

عنوان سیزده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: اسماعیل قهرمانی پور(شمس خوی)، نشر تهران، روزگار، چاپ نخست 1389، در 415ص، شابک 9789643741822؛

عنوان چهارده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: عبدالرسول اکبری، نشر تهران، شبگون، چاپ نخست 1393، در 584ص، شابک 9786009454518؛

عنوان پانزده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: بهاره خدادادی، نشر: تهران، نسل آفتاب، چاپ نخست 1389، در 4644ص، شابک 9786005847192؛

عنوان شانزده: صد سال تنهایی؛ اثر: گابریل گارسیا مارکز؛ مترجم: آوینا ترنم، نشر تهران، ماهابه، در سال 1393، در 477ص، شابک 9786005205596؛ و توسط نشر هنر پارینه، در سال 1390، در 584ص، شابک 9786005981032؛

چاپ نخست این اثر در سال 1967میلادی، در «آرژانتین»، با تیراژ هشت هزار نسخه منتشر شد؛ همگی نسخه‌ های چاپ نخست از «صد سال تنهایی» به زبان «اسپانیایی»، در همان هفته ی نخستین انتشار به فروش رفتند؛ در چهار دهه و سالهایی که از نخستین چاپ این کتاب بگذشت، بیش از سی میلیون نسخه از آن، در سراسر جهان نیز به فروش رفته، و به بیش از سی زبان برگردان شده است؛ جایزه ی «نوبل ادبیات» سال 1982میلادی، به «گابریل گارسیا مارکز»، برای آفرینش همین اثر اهدا شد

هشدار و اخطار برای کسانیکه میخواهند داستان را گرم گرم بخوانند؛ ...؛ لطفا ادامه این نوشتار یا سطرهای پایانی آنرا نخوانند؛

داستان به شرح زندگی شش نسل، از خانواده ی «بوئندیا» پرداخته؛ که نسل نخست آن‌ها در دهکده‌ ای به نام «ماکوندو» ساکن می‌شوند؛ ناپدید شدن، و مرگ بعضی از شخصیت‌های داستان، به جادویی شدن روایت‌ها می‌افزاید؛ صعود «رمدیوس» به آسمان، درست در برابر چشم دیگران؛ کشته شدن همگی پسران سرهنگ «آئورلیانو بوئندیا»، که از زنانی در جبهه جنگ به این دنیا آمده‌ بودند، و توسط افراد ناشناس، از راه هدف گلوله قرار دادن پیشانی آنها، که علامت صلیب داشته؛ و طعمه ی مورچه‌ ها شدن «آئورلیانو»ی نوزاد و تازه به دنیا آمده ی «آمارانتا اورسولا»، از این موارد هستند

به باور بسیاری، نویسنده در این کتاب است، که سبک «رئالیسم جادویی» را آفریده اند؛ داستانی که در آن همه ی فضاها و شخصیت‌ها واقعی، و حتی گاهی حقیقی هستند، اما ماجرای داستان، مطابق «روابط علّت و معلولی شناخته شده ی دنیای ما» پیش نمی‌روند؛ سرهنگ «آئورلیانو بوئندیا»، پسر دوم «اورسولا» و «خوزه آرکادیو» است؛ نخستین فرزندی است که در «ماکوندو» به دنیا می‌آید؛ این شخصیت فاقد هرگونه احساس عشق، نفرت، ترس، تنهایی و امید است؛ وی از کودکی تحت تأثیر برادر بزرگتر خود «خوزه آرکادیو بوئندیا»، قرار دارد، و در اوج داستان، توسط برادرش که در نقطه ی مقابل دیدگاه سیاسی وی است، و به نوعی نماینده ی دشمنان او نیز به شمار می‌آید، از اعدام نجات پیدا می‌کند؛ وی بارها و بارها، از مرگ می‌گریزد؛ نه جوخه اعدام، و نه زخم و سم، و نه خودکشی، نمی‌توانند، وی را بکشند؛ وی به نوعی نماد شخصیت کسانی است، که باید زنده بمانند، و عذاب بکشند، تا پلی بین سنت و مدرنیته، در شهر خیالی «ماکوندو» باشند؛ وی در طول جنگ‌های داخلی، در تمام جبهه‌ های جنگ، با زنان بیشماری همبستر شده، و هفده پسر، که همگی، نام کوچک وی، و نام خانوادگی مادرانشان را داشته اند، از او بوجود آمده‌ اند؛ تو گویی در تمام مسیر پیشروی در جبهه، تخم جنگ را نیز میپراکنده است؛ اما همه ی این هفده پسر، که یک کشیش روی پیشانی آن‌ها علامت صلیب را، با خاکستر حک کرده، به سرعت کشته می‌شوند؛ در نهایت، سرهنگ در اوج تنهایی، و فراموش شدگی می‌میرد

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 07/06/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 10/05/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

I'm not going to write a full review of this book because where would I even start?! Also so many other people have written about this book before me, and I truly have no way to coherently explain my feelings about this book. It's a bizarre, magical story that feels cyclical and fresh all at the same time.

I won't lie and say it's easy to read, but at the same time, if you don't try and understand everything that is happening and you just take it chapter by chapter, you can absolutely make it through. Don't be alarmed by the repetition of character names in this story; at first it's intimidating but eventually you get a sense of who is who and how they refer to them by nicknames or other details. And since it is magical realism, you don't really need to understand what is really happening and what is not. It's much more about the experience of reading this novel than deciphering every element. There's just too much information on every single page for one reader to retain and understand it all, especially on just the first time reading it.

Is it a new all-time favorite? No. Am I glad I've finally read it? Absolutely! It was a definite bucket list book and I was worried I'd put it off forever, until years from now when it still sat on my shelf, taunting me to pick it up. I'm not sure if or when I'd ever revisit it, but I'm happy to have checked it off my list of books to read before I die. I'd encourage others to do the same if they are interested!

لا يكفيها نوبل فقط فهى من أعظم الاعمال الادبيه فى التاريخ

" آول آلسلآله مربوط إلى شجره وآخرهمـ يأكله آلنمل "

آولآ مش دى آلروآية آللى تـآخذ منهـآ مجموعة من آلمقتبسآت عشـآن تنشرهـآ على الفيس بوك وتشآركهـآ مع آصدقـآئكـ ! ومش آلنوع من آلروآيات التي تتعلق بها لقربها ومسهـآ آلمشآعر آختبرتهـآ يومـآ أو تجربة شخصية خضتهـآ !
لا هى الانبهار ! الانبهار بالقدرة المذهلة على خلق العالم المجنون ده ! آلكـآتب خلق حياةً بأكملها هنا وليس "قصة" فقط على غير المعتاد في أغلب الأعمال الروائية

خوسيه آركـآديو بوينديا مؤسس ماكوندو ومليكاديس والرقائق بتاعتة !

عن قريه بدأت معزولة عن العالمـ بفعل آلطبيعة وآنتهت معزولة عنه بفعل آلمصيـر آلمأساوي لأفرآدهآ عبر مائة عـآمـ آو تزيد مـن آلحرب وآلحب آلحلال وآلمحرمـ وآلجنس ومن آللعنـة آللى توآرثتهـآ سلآلة خوسيه اركاديو بوينديا مؤسس آلقرية وآلجد الأكبر لمئات من آلشخصيـآت آلمتشآبهـه أسماء وجموحا وشهوة ولعنة !

من آكـتر آلشخصـآت آللى آتعلقت بيهـآ آلكولونيل آوريليانيو بوينديا !

من آلروآيـآت آلقليله آللى زعلت لمـآ خلصتهـآ ! ومستحيل آنسـآهـآ !

n  n   

...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.

n

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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I cannot begin to tell you how much I love this book, and how much I adore the writing of Colombian author, Gabriel García Márquez.
His style, el realismo mágico (magical realism), transcends the frugal prose that mildews the pages of so many joyless books.
Salman Rushdie was, and still is, heavily influenced by Márquez. He described him as "The greatest of us all."
Louis de Bernières was similarly inspired by the great man.

I first read this book more than twenty years ago, and it has remained part of my authorial psyche ever since.
As with Rushdie's work, you can literally point a pin at any sentence in this book to reveal an imaginative genius that most of us could never aspire to. A newcomer to Márquez's work might be alarmed to see barely a paragraph break to each page. Don't worry, deep breath, you'll get used to it.

I reread this fantastically demented, wonderfully brilliant book last week, only for my wife to shoot me quizzical looks as I had a Harry Met Salvatora bookgasm while pouting at his dazzling prose, purring at his human imagery and ohhhh, licking my lips at his sumptuous outlandishness. Trigger warning: Those who are easily offended should give it a swerve; magical events do rub shoulders with some very disturbing realities.

There is one line on the book's back cover, penned by The Times newspaper, that sums up this masterpiece perfectly:
"Sweeping, chaotic brilliance, often more poetry than prose ... one vast and musical saga."

So there you have it, a book so momentous that I will revisit it a few more times in my lifetime before I eventually pop my clogs.