Friday, April 18, 2014

The Macondo of the soul: How Gabriel García Márquez taught me to believe in words



I was a girl growing up in a Guatemala wracked by a bloody, undeclared civil war. I knew magic existed, because I knew books existed. And there was one I wanted desperately to read — Cien Años de Soledad — One Hundred Years of Solitude, which was on my mother’s nightstand and on the lips of every adult in my life. I was seven.

“Can I read it?” I asked my mother.

“No, you’re not old enough,” she responded.

I knew what that meant. It must have sex in it, and no amount of complaining would change her mind.

[...]

García Márquez was a journalist before he became a fiction writer and I, who have followed that same trajectory, understand perfectly why. Some truths can only be told in fiction; some reports rival the most vile and grotesque imaginings.

To read this column in its entirety, click here.

1 comment:

  1. Marquez has got story telling talent. The books is good but you will eventually get bored out of the monotonous and expected creations, but some characters are worth pondering upon.

    ReplyDelete

Comment on this post: