Gabriel Garcia Marquez
As a tribute to Mr. Marquez and the joy and the love of reading that his books have given me, I am re-posting a post that I wrote last May called Spotlight on Marquez.
I remember reading, at the end of
The General and His Labyrinth, a paragraph that I interpreted as the likes of such a man would never pass this way again, but, although, at this time, that's fitting, Marquez's words, in that last paragraph, are much more profound: they drift past boundaries and echo.
And so it is with regret and with gratitude that I re-post this post, because for or a short time the world was given the blessing of Mr. Marquez whose words tumbled golden from the depths of a deep soul.
My well-
thumbed loved copy.
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At the time, the price of One Hundred Years of Solitude: $2.95. |
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Glorious book jackets. |
Several years ago, I bought
One Hundred Years of Solitude in a
wonderful shop somewhere in the wilds of Jasper National Park, Alberta.
At the time, I'm not sure, given the annoyingly small print, my lack of
a dictionary, and my grasping inexperience as a reader, what I gleaned
from it, but I was vaguely aware that I had found a treasure. And
luckily, although somewhat daunted by the novel and with eye strain, I
pressed on. As I read, I did, however, find that
One Hundred Years of Solitude more
than lived up to its back cover promise of surprise. In fact, the book
proved as amazing as the elk that sauntered around, on too tall legs,
outside my rented cabin--close yet distant, understandable in form yet
wildly mysterious.
Márquez's seamless ability to incorporate
magic realism into his novels does surprise, delight and astound.
In One Hundred Years of Solitude, there is a focus on ice. Nothing unusual--sans magic, but try to explain
ice to someone who has never seen it. For example how would you explain ice to an individual from Amazonian
Lost Tribe?
(And, yes, speaking of amazing things there are still a few tribes out
there!) Could you describe ice so that they could understand? And, more
importantly, if you put a piece of ice in the
person's hand, how would they react? What would they think? In that
context and in the context the novel, ice moves from the
ordinary to the miraculous.