A review by viernes
One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Márquez
5.0
Yeah, this book strikes different if you are latin.
I mean, it's hard not to relate when i too have a family that keeps growing no matter what, with cousins that keep appearing from nowhere.
Hard not to relate when my great grandmother was raised in a convent and later whisked away by an italian immigrant in a love story that could rival Helena's and Paris'. When they are described as the shortest, angriest woman you'll ever meet, in love with the tallest, kindest fisherman you'll ever see. Someone so tall that, according to stories, didn't need a boat to fish, he would just stand in the middle of the ocean and cast his net, as if he was some sort of giant sea god. Hard not to relate when everything i read in this book seems more plausible than all the stories i've heard about my ever growing family.
Hard not to relate when the constant political and social turmoil feels more ridiculously fantastical than the adventures of Aureliano. And i'm sure most south americans find it easier to relate to this book too.
It's a book that is hard to like if you are not part of the audience it was written for. However, there is no denying the importance and legacy of this work, wether you personally like it or not. It's a fucking masterpiece with one of the best opening lines i've ever read. I've never seen snow, but when i do, i'm sure it's something i'll remember forever too.
I mean, it's hard not to relate when i too have a family that keeps growing no matter what, with cousins that keep appearing from nowhere.
Hard not to relate when my great grandmother was raised in a convent and later whisked away by an italian immigrant in a love story that could rival Helena's and Paris'. When they are described as the shortest, angriest woman you'll ever meet, in love with the tallest, kindest fisherman you'll ever see. Someone so tall that, according to stories, didn't need a boat to fish, he would just stand in the middle of the ocean and cast his net, as if he was some sort of giant sea god. Hard not to relate when everything i read in this book seems more plausible than all the stories i've heard about my ever growing family.
Hard not to relate when the constant political and social turmoil feels more ridiculously fantastical than the adventures of Aureliano. And i'm sure most south americans find it easier to relate to this book too.
It's a book that is hard to like if you are not part of the audience it was written for. However, there is no denying the importance and legacy of this work, wether you personally like it or not. It's a fucking masterpiece with one of the best opening lines i've ever read. I've never seen snow, but when i do, i'm sure it's something i'll remember forever too.