One Hundred Years of Solitude

Title: One Hundred Years of Solitude
Author: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Translator: Gregory Rabassa
Publisher: Penguin, 1996 (First published 1967)
ISBN: 9780140157512
Pages: 422

When Gabriel Garcia Marquez was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1982, I was ten years old. Studying in primary school, we children preparing for quiz competitions at school were obliged to remember his name for the coming tests and exams on general knowledge. Though he was given the honour for his ‘novels and short stories’, it was painted by media such that his masterpiece, ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ alone had won the award. The title had a soothing feel to it. Every time you uttered it, something moved imperceptibly inside and you never got tired saying it aloud. Of course, even though the novel was praised very much, not many people had actually read it. At least, I could not find one who had gone through it at that time. That’s why around ten years later, when I was attending college and joined a public library to improve my English skills, I took the book off a dusty shelf for the first time. I read it with as eagerness as when you do push ups and found the going tough. My language skills were only developing and I could not enjoy the rich tapestry of vivid imagination that Marquez had spread before me. Naturally, I began forgetting the plot right from the moment the book was put down. Every time I heard its title mentioned by somebody else, I would momentarily feel a light bulk glow inside in the sense that I have read it once which will immediately be followed by guilty darkness that I don’t remember anything from it. Another three decades later, it now felt that the book may be given another try. That’s why a copy was newly bought and read. This is not exactly a review, but a summary of my own adventure of an act resembling climbing the sheer rock of Marquez’ creative genius.

The book tells the saga of the Buendia family in seven generations which founded the town of Macondo in Colombia (the names are certainly fictional). Jose Arcadio Buendia, the patriarch who established the settlement wanted proximity to the sea and instead had to contend with solitude in the middle of nowhere among a wide swamp. The settlers’ ties to the town were tenacious at first as ‘a person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground’. Buendias’ mansion becomes an icon of Macondo and the patriarch’s son Colonel Aureliano Buendia makes the family’s name a household one in the nation by joining a civil war fighting on the liberal side. Overwhelmed by odds against, he lays down arms and the fall of the family starts at that point. The males of the family adopt only two names – Jose Arcadio and Aureliano. All those who chose the former name exhibit traits of physical strength and rational mind while the Aurelianos were impulsive in nature but with a profound inkling to acquire esoteric knowledge. An Aureliano of the sixth generation finally succeeds in decoding the predictions about the dynasty’s end precisely at the moment at which it was coming true. It is amusing that Marquez alludes the coded prediction to be in Sanskrit. How he stumbled upon India is unknown, but it is suggestive that he had named his daughter ‘Indira’, rather than Amaranta or Ursula, the common names of female Buendias.

As the title implies, solitude is the overarching theme of the book. The town of Macondo founded by the Buendia clan was solitary for most of its existence which was broken by the appearance of railroad that brought in a ruthless American banana company. But the tide turned and the town fell back to desolation as everybody abandoned it. The banana company left on the face of stiff local resistance and the government which shot dead thousands of striking workers of the company lost interest when the town was depopulated. Most of the characters also exhibit the curse of solitude. Dead men come back to haunt their killers as ghosts not out of malice or revenge, but because they could not endure loneliness in the other world. Don’t ask how it’s possible – that’s magical realism for you. Melquiades the gypsy returned from death because he could not bear the solitude. Prudencio Aguilar, whom the first Buendia killed, returns to him because ‘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, made him love his worst enemy’. The novelist comments about a senile character that ‘the secret of a good old age is simply an honourable pact with solitude’. The loneliness of some characters is so intense that he is said to have ‘locked himself up inside himself’.

The book is suffused with magical realism that is mesmerizing if you stand back a little from the flow of narrative and pause for a moment to reflect on it. However, just for this extra work, some readers may find it unpalatable. The book has to be slowly masticated and not at all meant for swallowing in one gulp. Then you feel the pleasantly suffocating richness of Marquez’ expressions. Some characters in the novel are alone with only their memories as companions and the memories are said to have ‘materialized through the strength of implacable evocation and walked like human beings through the cloistered rooms’. The novel also mirrors the revolutionary spirit of Latin America to a good degree that glorifies fratricidal warfare as quite normal or even something to be desired. One of the Buendias tries to kill an old friend who was captured in war, saying ‘Remember, old friend, I am not shooting you. It’s the revolution that’s shooting you’. Apart from socialism, dictatorship also flourishes in Macondo where human life is sometimes not worth anything. The autocratic commands are said to be so effective that ‘his orders were being carried out even before they were given, even before he thought of them, and they always went much beyond what he would have dared have them do’.

Fatalism and incest are the two other recurring themes which mark the narrative with significance. In fact, the second is related to the first as if to prove that a prophecy had come true. We see incestual relations developing in at least two generations of the Buendia family. The founding parents – Jose Arcadio Buendia and Ursula Iguaran – were first cousins and Ursula feared giving birth to a monster child with pig’s tail as was believed to be the fate of offspring arising out of such tabooed unions. In the sixth generation, the match was more on the forbidden scale than the first and the couple was horrified by the birth of a boy with a pig’s tail. The unfortunate child is then carried away by ants which had colonized the mansion in its every nook and cranny. This leads to another prophecy coming true which had earlier predicted the chaining of the insane patriarch to a chestnut tree in the middle of the front garden. Unfortunately for the family, the coded material was decrypted from Sanskrit only at the last moment of existence of the last member. This novel is considered to be the epitome of Spanish creativity and is a geographical indicator of South America in the sense that the physical environment also assumes the nature of a protagonist such as a rain that lashes continuously for many years, warm gusts of wind, ants and termites eating into the innards of furniture or even people, yellow butterflies that signify the vital force of another human being and many similar devices.

The book is highly recommended.

Rating: 4 Star