This week’s reading has definitely been the most intriguing book for me so far. This novel, its many characters, and seemingly endless interwoven plots and backstories that are so odd (perhaps outlandish is a better word) are like nothing I have read and created an entirely new world with every page I read. I do, in part, attribute my ability to stay mildly afloat in this book to the fact I read the first half thus far with the audiobook (which I highly recommend if you have more of the book to read). I think that while I find this book compelling in a weird way, I would not have been able to follow along as cohesively if I had just read the words with my eyeballs; the audiobook added a big storybook element to my reading experience and I am grateful to have found it (bonus: the narrator has a lovely voice).
On to the content itself, which as I mentioned is so far-out from any book I have previously read. I knew that there were elements of repetition in this book, but the repetition of names had me questioning my own sanity. Why do people keep naming their kids after themselves?! Why does Aureliano have 17 sons all with the same name?! When Ursula mentions her frustration of having her children keep having kids with the same names, I at once agreed with her and then questioned the sort of meta(?) aspect of Marquez purposely a) naming his characters the same things and then b) having one of his characters mad at this fact. If I think about this too long I start doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out what Marquez wants me to think of the Buendia family and also him as a novelist.
In the lecture, it was asked if this novel is more a pleasurable lostness or an anxiety-inducing one, and I would have to say I found this first half to be a bit of both. The establishing chapters of the early family members really won me over because of how weird every family member is; gypsies, potions, eating dirt, making little orange fish — everything is so oddly specific you can’t help but embrace the family’s uniqueness. When the family began to have children and the war began, I got very anxious and wanted to give up truly understanding the ins and outs of Macondo. Who’s going to war? Why are we fighting a war? Who is whose child?
I was also very struck the frequent instances of incest that just … appeared. The repeated occurrences of sexuality between Buendia men and random women caught me off guard a couple of times, but when the incest began I was truly shocked; of course anything goes in Macondo, but sometimes I questioned the usefulness of such sexual interactions. And sometimes I just didn’t know if people were related or not; darn you Marquez!
Question: do you think the incoming railroad is a sign of transition for Macondo? Do you think it will bring the town to a new era, or will this be too modern and cause (even more) chaos in the town?
Nicholas Latimer
February 26, 2023 — 2:33 pm
Hey Julia,
I’m sure we can all agree how shocking and weird many instances and details where in this book. Some more vulgar and offputting than others, though I will admit that the “appropriate” details could occasionally be comedic.
I’ve just commented on another blog which asked about the role of technology in the book, which could be likened to the concept of progression and expansion. I think it could appear similar (depending on where part 2 takes us), in that innovation and expansion may not always be the best thing. I wondered whether Marquez had a sortof anti-technology attitude, showing this through Jose’s initial fascinations with it (but knowing it may not have led to a very successful outcome) after dreaming so big and being so optimistic.
I imagine this theme will come with the expansion of the town through this railroad. A new era, maybe, but chaos, I have an even big suspicion for. Looking forward to finding out how it plays out!
katherine
February 26, 2023 — 2:46 pm
I’m not going to expand too much on the foreshadowing aspect of the railroad to avoid spoilers for the latter half of the book. I will say that technology is framed as always bringing about radical change, whether good or bad. What stays dormant or evolves is a big theme in the story of Macondo. Some things, like names, pass through generations while other temporary trends like political alignment change between generations or even within individual storylines.
neko smart
February 26, 2023 — 3:34 pm
Hey Julia! Great post 🙂 I also read and followed along with the audiobook—I agree that the narrator’s performance is top notch. Yeah, the name thing for sure got me too. And the incest… I think Marquez could have left a good amount—maybe all of it—out and still effectively told his story. I have finished the book, so I’ll hold off answering your question so as not to spoil anything, but as Katherine has already stated: the integration of technology is generally a sign of big change. I’m excited to hear your thoughts on the second half!
julia gomez-coronado dominguez
February 26, 2023 — 7:26 pm
Hello Julia, thanks for your post, I really liked it! The town of Macondo and its descriptions is one of the things that I enjoyed the most from the novel, and I think it contributes to creating a magical, mysterious setting for the events of the story. At the beginning of the novel, Macondo is depicted as a small town, but as the novel progresses, it grows and changes, becoming more complex and modernized and contributing to the development of the characters. Despite the growth, Macondo remains as a mysterious, fantastic place where unexplainable things happen, for instance, when a woman ascends to heaven while hanging up sheets to dry.
Jon
February 27, 2023 — 4:08 pm
“I at once agreed with her and then questioned the sort of meta(?) aspect of Marquez purposely a) naming his characters the same things and then b) having one of his characters mad at this fact.”
Ha! Wait to the end… I do think this is a very self-aware, self-reflexive book, even as it also (as you say) work to construct a whole world for the reader. I.e. it’s both expansive/outward-looking and also inward-looking, too.
“anything goes in Macondo”
I thought this was an interesting comment, and it got me thinking… I know what you’re saying, but I’m not sure it’s true. Or rather: it’s not as though the characters’ actions don’t have consequences, and are not sometimes punished, is it? Or that characters are not sometimes frustrated that they do not get (or get to do) what they want? At times, in other words, “anything goes.” At other times, nothing goes!