One Hundred Years of Solitude
It was… Something.
[Spoilers ahead]
Perhaps one of the most profound books I have ever read. It encompasses not only the grief of war, for which it is most known, but also the essence of family, of comradery, of the delicate tendencies of the soul, and of change.
What has once been prosperous, shall not always be so. What has once been obscure, shall not always be let down. That is the main lesson I learned from this phenomenal work of art. Through it, we see the village of Macondo rise up from a small collection of houses to a prosperous megapolis that is the center of the South American banana trade, then collapse into an empty and barren town, erased completely from the annals of history by the merciless tides of time.
Not only is it a parallel to the nature of human existence, from birth to death, but its account is done immaculately well by Gabriel García Márquez. Throughout the tale’, we get to witness the precise events and happenings that uplift the town and then destroy it, with the added dimension of magical realism, which makes it all the more prophetic.
The Role of Man and Woman
The theme perhaps most overlooked by academic analyses is the exploration of the roles of man and woman in the novel. Before the appearance of the theory of gender, the world was split into simple and comprehensible boxes, each with corresponding roles.
Based on these prehistoric archetypes, the men of the Buendia family were breadwinners, caretakers, and builders. But also warriors that brought about horrendous and pointless events that took with them the lives of countless others in an undying quest for pride and power.
Such was the mythical Colonel Aureliano Buendia, who in his heyday, was hailed almost as divine, but who was motivated by little less than personal pride. The pride of having the moral high ground, the pride of progressivism, the pride of finding himself in the art of war, and therefore compensating for a lack of aptitude in other, worldly matters such as prowess with women. Due to his actions, we see the country torn apart and sundered, thousands of young and foolish men going off to war and losing their lives to its timeless horrors and all for the pride of one single man.
The chaotic patterns of behavior continue on in Aureliano’s namesake — Aureliano Segundo, who is portrayed as a loving and caring parent, a real caretaker, but also a rake, spendthrift, and cheat. He provides for his family to the best of his ability and spoils everyone from his grandmother to his spiteful wife. But in an extreme of generosity, he foregoes the virtue of moderation and adequacy and partakes in abundant gluttony, lust, and deceit.
Opposed to that are women of the Buendia. Not the offspring of those who carry the name, but those who come into the flamboyant family from the outside world and try their best to tame its insatiable hunger.
Above all, must be remarked the matron of the Buendia family — Ursula, wife of its late founder Jose-Arcadio Buendia. She serves as the voice of reason — one that does her best to guard its overly-active and adventurous sons against unwanted danger reprimands them against spending the hard-earned fortune on balls and women, and tries to keep the family on the righteous moral path. But the job is not an easy one, and as we see her age and lose her grip on life, the family unravels into decadence and unmanageable self-pleasuring.
Brought into the clan by happenstance, when the town whore Pilar Ternera pays her in order to avoid committing incest with her son Arcadio, Santa Sofia de la Piedad becomes a silent slave to her fate. It rocks her from being the wife of the dictator during one of the innumerable wars started by Colonel Aureliano Buendia, to a lonely widow watching over a collapsing household on the outskirts of nowhere. Despite not having a say in her own life, despite never stating firmly neither her opinion nor her desires, she keeps watch over the glamorous chaos that engulfs everything the Buendia touch as best she can, before this chaos defeats her and she vanishes as its collateral damage.
Even Fernanda, who believed herself Queen of a South American kingdom, who wanted nothing else but what was promised to her since her birth and who was brought into a wealthy, but troubled household, did everything she could to civilize the wild Buendia. She tried to teach them the laws of polite society, tried to tame the beastly nature of its offspring, tried to make sense of the abounding chaos that both resulted in and from their wealth, but failed miserably and was left tired and broken down, with nothing but her faith to comfort her.
In the end, it is a tale of the exceeding immediate desires of the untamed masculine nature prevailing over the feminine desire to order existence.
War
The theme most evident in the novel is that of war. It spans almost its entirety and plagues the life of the Buendia family. From the young Aureliano who goes off to war and spends his life fighting for an ideal he does not understand or believe in to his 17 sons, every single one of which is killed to prevent the war from resurfacing.
War is the invisible beast, by tackling which, all the worst aspects of human nature are brought out within those who fight in it. It is not a place where valor and glory are earned, but rather where innocence and humanity are lost. It leaves men broken, enslaved to their lowliest desires and darkest fears.
Essentially, by invoking a righteous cause for war and then by boiling it down to the nature of human sins, Gabriel García Márquez makes it a thing worthy only of reprimand, useless on a metaphysical scale — a ploy for power and nothing else.
Conclusion
It is so hard to relay the colossal profoundness of this novel into one review. Entire meta-analyses would not even be able to scope its scale, but one thing is certain — it is a timeless book that encompasses the essence not only of war but also that of family, peace, love, solitude, and above all, and most importantly — of humanity.
