A review by filesm
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez
5.0
“You must have been dreaming,” the officers insisted. “Nothing has happened in Macondo, nothing has ever happened, and nothing ever will happen. “This is a happy town.”
Perhaps a child with a pigs tail is better than a generational curse of solitude and incestual lust…This might be the most gripping, absurd, horrific, and hilarious book I’ve ever read. Starting off 2022 with it felt appropriate as we are living through absurd horrific times, rich with solitude. I resonated with Ursulas feeling of watching a cycle repeat itself, being unable to stop it and participating in the system that perpetuates in begrudgingly but willingly. Chronicling several generations of the clairvoyant Buendia family, Gabriel Garcia Marquez perfectly represents generational tramua and details constant suffering within each member of the family and Macando in general sometimes in ways that made me sick to my stomach, but somehow makes it enjoyable and engrossing. The ending gagged me and now I must reread.
“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 fund the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving 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 old people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
“What did you expect?” Úrsula sighed. “Time passes.” “That’s how it goes,” Aureliano admitted, “but not so much.”
.
Perhaps a child with a pigs tail is better than a generational curse of solitude and incestual lust…This might be the most gripping, absurd, horrific, and hilarious book I’ve ever read. Starting off 2022 with it felt appropriate as we are living through absurd horrific times, rich with solitude. I resonated with Ursulas feeling of watching a cycle repeat itself, being unable to stop it and participating in the system that perpetuates in begrudgingly but willingly. Chronicling several generations of the clairvoyant Buendia family, Gabriel Garcia Marquez perfectly represents generational tramua and details constant suffering within each member of the family and Macando in general sometimes in ways that made me sick to my stomach, but somehow makes it enjoyable and engrossing. The ending gagged me and now I must reread.
“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 fund the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of loving 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 old people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
“What did you expect?” Úrsula sighed. “Time passes.” “That’s how it goes,” Aureliano admitted, “but not so much.”
.