One Hundred Years of Solitude

After reading the last lines of this book, it took a couple of minutes before I could think straight. It seemed as if it had made such a deep impression that I couldn’t put it into words.
This was at two in the morning, on Monday night. I couldn’t get to sleep afterwards, lying awake and letting my thoughts roam over the events of one hundred years in the town of Macondo. A story that began with lightness and optimism, and ended on a note of such deep loss and sorrow.
Márquez’ prose is beautiful, so that every part of the book is just a joy to read. It’s a book to take your time with, to read slowly and savour; to get lost in its slow wanderings, following in the lives and fortunes of the Buendia family, coming to know them as well as they know themselves, sharing in each joy and tragedy they suffer.
What at first seems like happiness and peace, in the end is deconstructed, is turned around and put into a new perspective, and you realise that none of them have ever avoided their fate. Whatever their fortunes, each and every member of this family has been unable to escape from the solitude that claims them all.
This is, truly, a beautiful, magical book.


2 thoughts on “One Hundred Years of Solitude

  1. It’s been a good twenty years since I read it, but I can remember the haunting beauty of that book…

    ~ duchess

  2. Oh, another book of “magic realism” that you might want to read someday would be Mark Helprin’s Winter’s Tale – one of the few books that can match Solitude for sheer beauty.


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