I was rather intimidated and contemplated for quite some time whether I would be able to understand this book – don`t repeat my stupid mistake , just pick this book up and let the story overwhelm you!

My advice would be to get some info on major themes and the structure of the book beforehand, and you`ll be alright. This does not mean that it takes intense research before reading the book in order to appreciate it, but some clues will help you to navigate through the magic and abundance of the story that make this book so beautiful and will take your head for a ride.

The book tells the story of the Buendía family from the foundation to the destruction of the city of Macondo. Yes, there are many characters with the same or very similar names in this family – and with good reason, as the book questions the concepts of time and history. The same character traits are repeatedly displayed in different people throughout seven generations, and the idea that history evolves in circles is brought up again and again. Macondo, the city of mirrors, is located in the jungle, and while reading, you constantly feel the humming of the insects, you feel the heat, the rain, the storm – the language is unbelievingly beautiful. The effect of disorientation and involvement is heightened by surreal events that, in the style of magical realism, are presented as completely normal – so it is raining yellow blossoms when the family patriarch dies, Melquíades resurrects because he could not stand the solitude of death, and Remedíos the Beauty ascends into the heavens because she was too pure-hearted for this world (well, supposedly :-)). The magical and the real melt into each other and form a whole new kind of reality, and believe me, it will blow your mind.

In order to enjoy the overwhelming effect while staying on top of the story, I got myself a Buendía family tree (just google it) and held on to the events that structure the book in five parts and refer to Latin American history: The founding of Macondo, the arrival of the judge as a representative of a central power, the civil wars, neo-colonization represented by the events around the banana plantation, and the destruction of Macondo (btw: what finally happens at the plantation strike really took place in Colombia). I am certainly far from being an expert for Latin American history, but that did not cause any problems here. I really felt with the members of the Buendía family and could see the events through their eyes, as every one of them struggles with his or her own kind of solitude, with their vices (and there are tons of them), their virtues, their personal struggles and the events they have to face.

I never read anything comparable to this book, and I was overwhelmed by its beauty and sadness. So don`t get discouraged because you hear that there are so many characters in this story and that the book does not conform to the standards of “creative writing 101” – that is part of why this book is so special and fascinating!

"The book picks up not too far after Genesis left off." And this fictitious chronicle of the Buendia household in the etherial town of Macondo somewhere in Latin America does just that. Rightly hailed as a masterpiece of the 20th century, Garcia Marquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude" will remain on the reading list of every pretentious college kid, every under-employed author, every field-worker in Latin America, and indeed should be "required reading for the entire human race," as one reviewer put it a few decades back.

No review, however laconic or ponderous, can do justice to this true piece of art. Perhaps I can only hint at a few of the striking features of the work that are so novel, so insightful, and which make it such a success in my opinion.

By far and away the most inspiring element of the work is the author's tone. He reportedly self-conscioulsy wrote in the style that his grandmother back in Columbia used to tell him stories. Thus there is a conversational, meandering, but indeed succinct and perfect narrative voice to whisk the reader through the years of Macondo's fantastical history.

Not unrelatedly, the tone has ample visual imagery, with superb attention to detail (and just the right quantity and nature of the detail that surrounds everyday life) to help prod the story along. The dolls of the child-bride treasured by the mother-in-law and heroine Ursula. The paranormal and mundane contrivences of the gypsies that are celebrated in the opening pages and which close the book. The tree to which the mad genius who founded the town and Buendia line is tied and dies in. The pretentious suitcases of the returning emigre. The goldfishes that are the relicts of a disillusioned but celebrated warrior. And the ubiquitous ants. All these objects have their proper place among the daily going abouts of the Buendia family, and serve to weave into the story a sense of BOTH the ordinary and the surreal.

There is ample space in this world of Macondo and the Buendias for a sad commentary on that world South of the Rio Grande. Incessant, pointless civil wars. A rigid political and ecclesiastical hierarchy shoved down the throats of decent folk. The rampant exploitation of the tropics by outsiders, both foreign and domesitc. And perhaps most significantly, the strangely marginal and uncomfortable space occupied by technology in daily life in the Latino world. I am surely not alone in uncovering some facet of the work that speaks so boldly and loudly to me. This rich yet surprisingly elegant novel has, it seems, on every page the germinating seeds of an exciting conversation that speaks directly to an observation and experience everybody, and especially those coming to or from Latin America (or any underdeveloped nation), has had.

And of course there are the brilliant characters, and the sense one gets of how they are affected by, and in turn affect, their setting. The story is aided by a pedigree one keeps referring to in the beginning of the book, as its immense scope (yes, 100 years) and maddening array of characters demand of the reader to conjure up visualizations of what exactly is going on. It is no wonder that this work is celebrated for being almost biblical in scope.

Yes, my review can be condensed into three words: READ THIS BOOK!!!

تفاجئت انها عجبتني للدرجة دي، توقعاتي إنها مش هتعجبني خفضت توقعاتي فـ خلتني أستمتع بيها

بعد تفكير لمدة كام ساعة، لا هي الرواية عظيمة يا جماعة. وآخر فصلين لوحدهم كفيلين يخلوا أي شيء عظيم.

ريفيو مصور:

https://youtu.be/ZLNbEQn_yGs

I must be missing something about this one, and whatever it is, I know it's not much.

I didn't enjoy it; I wanted it to be a fulfilling and rewarding read; I want it to be everything that everyone else said it was and then some.

So, I learned that some works aren't worth it--not worth reading, not worth the time, and not worth putting faith in what others may deem "a beautiful book."

Marquez pops characters in and out with different brief activities and events, scattering them into a literary collage; humans with tails, and a girl who eats dirt..those things would be interesting if a story was surrounding each one, but there isn't. It's like going to a carnival looking through a peep hole and seeing a freak of nature briefly.


To just pop these abnormalities in as being convincing, which it sure as hell isn't, seems to be stretching the point of lucidity and literary, and after that, I stopped reading--because there's a big difference in reading and just wallowing in a collage of intellectual masturbation where events and names are continuously wrapped around the charming misnomer:"magic realism."

Ultimately, it's monotonous, confusing, and in the end boring as hell.

I've given it no stars because I'm so full of magic realism. I'm real and can perform magic,and I'm far more convincing than this pretentious work ever could be.

Watch me: I'm waving my literary wand and sending 100 Days of Boring Crap on a magic carpet ride directly into my "crap that actually got published" bin. BRAVO!

‘It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.’

Few memories of reading a book can match the sweetness of the warm spring day while at university when I sat in the grass down by a river and began Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s masterful One Hundred Years of Solitude. The novel gripped me immediately and I followed the myth-like tales of the Buendía family and the fictional town of Macondo across multiple generations until the sunlight had vanished, the sound of the river adding an idyllic rhythm to my reading that made me keenly aware of the passage of time the idea of one thing flowing into the next. This novel truly is a tour de force earning its canonization not only as a crucial work of Latin American literature but as an internationally renowned novel of great beauty and insight. The amalgamation of stories all colliding within the novel form a complex web of critical analysis of history that functions as commentary on colonialism, political struggles of war and life under dictatorship, as well as interpersonal issues of family, legacy and love or the lack of it, making this a dense yet delightful novel that will forever reside within the hearts and minds of its readers.

One Hundred Years of Solitude was written in the span of just 18 months but will linger on in immortality as an important work of 20th century literature. It has sold over 50 million copies in over 25 languages (translated into english by the incredible Gregory Rabassa, the former WWII cryptologist was handpicked by Marquez for the task and reportedly said that Rabassa’s translation was better than his original in Spanish) and continues to charm readers everywhere. It is a cornerstone of modern Latin American Literature that has made Marquez a household name along with Jorge Luis Borges, from whom Marquez drew much inspiration (particularly from the story The Garden of Forking Paths which you can read here and inspired the cyclical ending of the novel).

Harold Bloom wrote of One Hundred Years of Solitude that ‘It is all story, where everything conceivable and inconceivable is happening at once.’ And indeed it does feel as if the whole of life is bursting forth from the book, which is a family epic that spans from the 1820’s through the 1920’s. Marquez combines his mythmaking with historical events, using magical realism as a political action of uncovering the meaning hiding in plain sight of historical reality. Carlos Fuentes writes in The Great Latin American Novel that Marquez’s storytelling serves ‘as an act of knowledge, as a negation of the false documents of the civil state which, until very recently papered over our reality.’ While Marquez says in a 1988 interview ‘there's not a single line in my novels which is not based on reality,’ it seems to affirm Fuente’s analysis and point to the reality in storytelling being a method to unlock a reality in life previously unobservable.

In this manner of magical realism, Marquez can move from tales of extraordinarily large men, women floating away into the sky, or absurdly long rain storms to actual historical events, such as the Banana Massacre when the United Fruit Company (now known as Chiquita) called in the army to massacre striking workers at the request of the US. Through this work and it’s investigations into US military intervention, dictatorships and revolutionaries, Marquez wrests the official narrative of history from the colonialist lenses that would prescribe a narrative to the Latin American countries they sought to exploit and gives history its own mythological life to function more freely. This also opens the novel up to multiple ways of reading it, where any of the numerous themes could be emphasized.

‘The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude.’

As one would expect, solitude is a major theme working through the novel, with Buendía's own sense of solitude enlarged in the isolation of Macondo, which is falling apart by the end of the book. The weight of feeling ones country collapsing to external forces is strongly imposed as the novel careens towards conclusion, and as new technologies arrive and different societies begin to integrate, those of the old guard feel more and more isolated from the world. None of this moves in a straightforward manner, however, and the ending reveals history to be a cyclical process, one of constant creation and undoing. ‘...time was not passing...it was turning in a circle…’

One Hundred Years of Solitude is truly worth the read and holds a very special place in my heart. It is such a fascinating and fantastic blend of magical realism and historical insight that was a major work in world literature. One to read and read again.

5/5

n  n
Buendía family tree (source)

...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  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

Probably the most impressive and emotionally memorable book, in the form of a family chronicle, I have ever read. An amazing achievement and the basis of my favourite genre: magic realism. It would be worth learning Spanish just to be able to read it in the original.

After reading this book, I understood one thing: we don't need magic, because reality is magical.

We only need eyes to see it.

What do you get when you combine a Colombian author (Gabo) with Magical realism, and an “Über” translator (Gregory Rabassa)? Nothing more than One Hundred years of Solitude!

Writing yet another lengthy review for this masterpiece would be superfluous. Literary Critics and GR reviewers said it all: “a cosmopolitan story, one that “could correct the path of the modern novel; unlike the succinct language of social realism, the prose of García Márquez was an “atmospheric purifier,” full of poetic and flamboyant language; contrary to the formal experiments of the nouveau roman, his novel returned to the narrative of imagination; the novel grew to have a texture of its own” (The Atlantic).

A novel of ephemeral truths, of time that cannot be recovered. Memories suspended in time - the crushing weight of so much past that coexists in one instance.

Perhaps the secret of good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude….

https://i.imgur.com/8B92Ts8.png

"Η μεγαλοπρεπη κ σκυθρωπή γερόντισσα που παρακολουθούσε την είσοδο καθισμένη σε μια ψαθινη κουνιστή πολυθρόνα, ενιωσε πως ο χρόνος γύριζε πίσω στις αρχικές του πηγές, όταν ανάμεσα στους πέντε νέους που έρχονταν, ανακάλυψε εναν κοκκαλιαρη χλωμό με μογγολικά μήλα, σημαδεμένο για πάντα
κι απ την αρχή του κόσμου με την βλογιά της μοναξιάς
-Αχ, αναστέναξε, Αουρελιάνο!"

------
Όλα τ αστερια του goodreads δεν ειναι αρκετά γι αυτο το αριστούργημα.
Σκεφτομουν σχεδον καθ ολη τη διάρκεια της ανάγνωσής του πως πιθανότατα αυτο εδω είναι το ωραιότερο βιβλίο του κόσμου.
Και ειναι σιγουρα απο τα πιο πολυαγαπημένα. Ισως ΤΟ πιο αγαπημένο.
Ξέρω ανθρώπους που το διάβασαν 3 και 5 και 10 φορές, ανθρώπους, αναγνωστες που δεν εντάσσονται καν στην κατηγορία των βιβλιοφαγων, αλλά πώς να μείνεις ασυγκίνητος μπροστά σ' ολα τα μαγικά που εκτυλίσσονται μπροστά στα μάτια σου, απ τις τρελλες διηγησεις αυτου του μεγαλου παραμυθά Μάρκες, πώς να μη μείνεις άφωνος κ γοητευμένος απ' τη φαντασία, τη συγκίνηση, την παραφορά, την λατρεία;

Υπήρχαν στιγμές που το διαβαζα και χαμογελούσα χωρίς να έχει γραψει κατι αστείο.
Υπηρχαν στιγμές που μου ρχότανε να κλάψω χωρίς να συμβαίνει τίποτα λυπητερό,
με συγκινουσαν οι αποχρώσεις των λεξεων του, με παρέσυραν σαν βροχή κι ανεμοστροβιλοι οι συγκλονιστικές προτάσεις του, η συνταρακτική του αμεσότητα, ο μυθος που μπλέκει αμετάκλητα μεσα στην πραγματικότητα και ριζωνει και το πιστευεις βαθιά και θες να πιστεψεις στα θαύματα, γιατι ετσι ο κοσμος ειναι πιο ενδιαφέρων και πιο λυρικός και πιο γοητευτικός.
Θυμαμαι κατι ανάλογο ειχα πάθει και με τον Έρωτα στα χρόνια της χολέρας, δεν ξερω αν φταιει που εχουν περασει κανα δυο δεκαετιες, αλλά εχω μια αίσθηση ότι, τα 100 χρονια μοναξιά είναι ακόμη ανώτερο.

Δεν εχω να πω κάτι αλλο, βασικα εχω, πολλά, αλλα θα φλυαρήσω για την λατρεια μου προς τον Μάρκες και αυτο τον μαγικό τοπο της Λατινικής Αμερικης, οπου οι ανθρωποι ζουν περιπου εκατονσαρανταεξι χρονια, συνυπαρχουν με τους νεκρους τους, πετανε λιγο πιο πανω απο τη γη οταν χαιρονται, και αναλειφονται στους ουρανους, ψυχη τε και σωματι, οταν αποφασιζουν να εγκαταλειψουν τα εγκοσμια, και ολη η φυση συμπασχει. Με συνεπήρε.
Με πηρε απ το χέρι και με οδηγησε στο πυρετικό Μακοντο. Μ' επιασε απ τα μαλλιά και ανατριχιαζα.
Όποτε εκλεινα το βιβλιο ενιωθα σαν να βγαινω απο ονειρο.
Θεος, απλά.
Ένα δίκαιο Νόμπελ ❤


---------------

"Ήταν έτοιμος να πει τον πόνο του σ' οποιον θα έλυνε τους κομπους που βαραιναν το στηθος του, αλλα το μόνο που κατάφερε ήταν να ξεσπάσει σ' ενα αβίαστο, ζεστό κ ανακουφιστικό κλάμα στην αγκαλια της Πιλάρ Τερνέρα. Εκείνη τον άφησε να τελειώσει, ξυνοντας το κεφάλι του με τις ακρες των δαχτύλων της και, χωρίς να της έχει πει πως έκλαιγε απο ερωτα, εκείνη είχε αμέσως αναγνωρίσει το πιο αρχαιο κλάμα στην ιστορία του ανθρώπου. "

Cien años de soledad... Gracias por cambiarme la vida.
No quiero adelantar nada porque estoy guardando absolutamente todo para la reseña y el vídeo especial que le quiero dedicar. Gracias a todos los que participaron en la lectura conjunta y a todos los que alguna vez me recomendaron este libro. Tenían razón, este libro es una obra maestra.