Cecily's Reviews > One Hundred Years of Solitude
One Hundred Years of Solitude
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Magical realism. Colourful Columbian family saga, complicated by the fact that each generation uses the same names as the previous and there are numerous extra-marital relationships, offspring raised by others, and some complicated, mildly-incestuous and under-age relationships too. Intriguing aspect re insomnia disease leading to memory loss.
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One Hundred Years of Solitude.
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Reading Progress
Finished Reading
May 30, 2008
– Shelved
June 9, 2008
– Shelved as:
miscellaneous-fiction
April 29, 2015
– Shelved as:
magical-realism
June 15, 2015
– Shelved as:
south-america
Comments Showing 1-14 of 14 (14 new)
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[deleted user]
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May 01, 2015 09:51AM
Hi Cecily. Your reaction almost mirrors my own after my first reading 13 years or more ago. Then I read it for a second time last fall, I found a glorious tale. (And yes, the use of the same names is even worse than the name affliction that I suffer in Russian literature.)
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I remember this only vaguely: I read it shortly before I joined GR, hence the very brief "review". Evidently a good way to gain likes for old reviews is just to put them on a new shelf. Several ancient, inadequate reviews seem to have gained unexpected attention in this way (not that I'm complaining).

*W&P remains unfinished :(

I think you're absolutely right about the circularity of the names. (Like you with W&P, I jotted the names down; only after I finished did I notice a family tree at the back.)

The family tree is now in the front, in my edition anyway. Nicely summarized there, Cecily. I have just completed it (well, actually, stalled with last 70 pages to go). Looking at the family tree, I realized how the author had cunningly hidden a spoiler by way of naming them all the same.
Hope you will re-read this someday. I like to hear what you think the point of the story was. That, I am still wondering.

That's good to know.
Alfred wrote: "Hope you will re-read this someday. I like to hear what you think the point of the story was. That, I am still wondering."
Maybe, but probably not. I ought to return to GGM, but I'll more likely read one I've not read before.


I expect it will be easier second time round. It's nearly a decade since I read this, and at least half a dozen years since I read any GGM. Yet another for the TBR.


What's it about? The nature of human existence, I guess. It's also obviously a satirical history of Colombia, and apparently it can also be read as paralleling the Bible, although to be honest I didn't get that at the time.
I didn't have any problem, myself, with the huge cast and the repeating names - this may be an advantage of having grown up reading epic fantasy, which I guess OHYOS could be seen as a particularly literary example of. [Likewise, incest and potentially underage relationships - not a problem for epic fantasy fans...]

Isn't that what all great art (including literature) is about?

Even within literature... I'm not sure I can think of a clearly "great" counterexample, but I think there are certainly very good books that have little intention of saying anything much about human existence. A novel like Pratchett's Maskerade, for instance, is very good, but I think that it's human-existence-discussion elements are tertiary to its "telling a fun murder mystery adventure story" and "being very funny" ambitions.
Whereas in the case of OHYOS, I think GarcÃa Marquez is actually setting out to say something about the nature of "a race condemned to one hundred years of solitude", and many moments make more sense taken as commentary on general human existance than they do as progression of a coherent plot. And indeed I think even the structure of the story - its magic realism, its rich allusiveness, its meandering flow - are chosen in order to say something about the way that people experience life.

Well, it was a rather flippant comment, but I think it holds a grain of truth - for me. Certainly for literature, film, and painting.
A criterion that I think works for all mediums is that great art bears repetition/revisiting and - most importantly - you get something new every time. Not necessarily dramatically new or different, but something.