Love, solitude, a little more love, a little less solitude

I read two books by Gabriel Garcia Marquez recently and if you haven’t read any of him so far, well you should period!

Marquez invites you in to his world with open arms, shows the world through his eyes and in the end leaves you totally distraught. Mostly because you can’t believe the book is over and the second because of the simplicity and the beauty he explores. In both the books I read I knew the ending, but it ain’t gonna matter buddy. Marquez’s storytelling doesn’t let you drop the book. The story grows on you, in you, around you (like beer :)). Sometimes I caught myself smiling the whole day after reading a few pages of Marquez, when the books ended I had a lump in my throat.

In a hundred years, the way he brings out the “magical realism” is nothing short of, well, magic. He paints such an amazing picture of Macondo that you can actually see the children grow, smell the banana plantations and party with the gypsies. The way he brings out irony and cyclicity in his books is nothing short of stupendous. There is this story of these twins who are exchanged at birth, grow up to be identical in every which way you can think of, then go in opposite directions, then get back to being similar in every way when they are old and are finally, exchanged in their graves. It is just very beautiful.

Love in the time of Cholera, is like an encyclopedia of love. Love is all its forms, at all ages, under all circumstances, defying time, society. Marquez becomes very cunning here, his protagonist Florentina Ariza sleeps with around 622 women with widows, with underage girls, with pretty much anyone he can find but you never judge him for it. You just are mesmerized by the love he has for all these women that there is no space in your heart or your head to think of anything else but of love. In fact in the end, he ends with the love of his life and he tells her he remained a virgin for her and you don’t hit your head but you just smile, because even his love knows he is lying but she appreciates his thought (mostly because it just sounds romantic J)

In both books, the central characters are women, strong, independent women. For me, a hundred years is about Ursula her struggles to keep pace with her husband, then her sons, grandsons and so on so forth, her sacrifices to keep the family together and sane. You are in awe of her character by the time she passes away. In love in the time of Cholera, it’s the head strong, strong willed Fermina Daza who casts her spell on you (Dominique Francon can kiss Fermina’s ass).

Another common thing about both the books is the way he plays around with the time and the way he presents time to you. In a 100 years, events keep repeating and you will be hit by the déjà vu effect at least a dozen times. In love in the time of Cholera, he keeps moving back and forth in time that you have to be very careful or you might land up very very confused.

There is actually quiet a huge debate about which is the better book, a hundred years or love in the time of cholera. My take, I don’t give a rat’s ass. They are both brilliant, both magical and the both blow the hell out of you. They are books which gave me different perspective. A 100 years made me a little less wary of time and love in the time of cholera made me a romantic.

If anyone ever meets Garcia Marquez, thank him profusely from my side.