We finally reached the second half (and the end) of the generation-spanning novel that made my head spin. I was debating calling my blog this week “the part where everyone drops like flies” because I was so not prepared for every single character to just drop dead in the span of about 200 pages. I think at this moment in time I can say I enjoyed the first half of this book a bit more than the second, because the repetition of names and confusion finally caught up with me. As much as I hate to admit it I found myself trying to get through the end of the book just to finish it, because the real ‘enjoyment’ aspect has ceased when I lost track of the family lineage. That’s not to say I wasn’t intrigued by this novel’s end, however.
This week’s lecture mentioned something I definitely felt while reading: “Openness can longer save the house, nor can closure protect it.” The paradoxical nature of Macondo being ‘safer’ when it is shut off from visitors, but also actively engaging in its own decline thanks to the destructive nature of the Buendías, speaks to the novel’s ‘obsession’ with repetition. (It also perhaps speaks to the ‘meta’ nature I eluded to in my last blog. I suppose Garcia Marquez had it out for me all along). While the town is seemingly safer before visitors come to visit, the actions and incestuous habits of the family already wreak havoc on their fates. When visitors come, the Buendías begin to realize there is a world outside of their town, but taking steps beyond their small village seems to signal the beginning of the end.
In my last blog I questioned whether the arrival of the train would prove helpful with the introduction of technology, or would see a negative outcome. I see know that the train brought a second life to Macondo, while also rapidly changing its fate. The train is a turning point for the town and for the family, and with every new invention that enters, a little piece of normalcy slips away, until nothing but ruin is left.
I found the birth of the final Buendía member very interesting. In lecture, Jon asks if the child had not been given the name of Aureliano, would the outcome have been different? This is question I struggle to answer. Perhaps naming him Rodrigo would have shifted the Buendia fate, stalling the inevitable ending for a few generations more. Or perhaps he was always going to have his tail, despite a different name, and it would still have ended the family.
Though it is titled solitude, I got the sense that the solitude is more of the family in the world than an individual ‘sadness’. (I am quick to associate solitude with sadness, but in this case it has a different meaning I suppose). My question to you is how you think solitude is most exemplified in this book, by whom or in what circumstances? It is a large, decade-spanning novel with historical impact about many events, but there is a through line of .. emptiness?
Jon
March 4, 2023 — 1:33 pm
“The train is a turning point for the town and for the family, and with every new invention that enters, a little piece of normalcy slips away, until nothing but ruin is left.”
Yes, I think I was talking about this in Thursday’s class… from the very opening lines, there’s a fascination with novelty and new arrivals (ice! magnets!), but they almost always seem to disappoint, and if anything only get more destructive as time goes along. I wonder if there are exceptions to this pattern. What, for instance, about the books sold by the bookseller?
Julia Moniz-Lecce
March 5, 2023 — 10:01 am
Hi Julia,
Cool post! I laughed when you said you wanted to name the title of the post “everyone drops like flies”, it’s very true. 🙂 I think that’s what makes the second half really engaging and fast paced. Given this, I was surprised that Ursula made it all the way to the end and seemed to outlive most of the characters and her immediate family members. I think that ties in a bit with what you were saying about the title being about solitude. To me, solitude is a lonely, separated feeling, while also being at peace with the separation. I could see this in Ursula as her loved ones and family pass away or leave her day by day, however, I could really see this as an overall description of the town itself. In the beginning part, I considered the solitude as a way of referencing Macondo’s separate existence from the rest of society or other communities. However, with the introduction of the train, that begins to change. Macondo seemed at peace in the first part, but when that solitude was broken, the introduction of war and conflict also came in and distrusted that. Excited to discuss this more in class!
katherine
March 5, 2023 — 9:15 pm
Great question! I also had that thought while reading the book. Aside from a few characters who actively try to escape interaction with other people, I wouldn’t immediately associate this book with solitude. You’re right, I think it is more common to think of solitude as being this dreary, sad feeling that only individuals tend to have. Perhaps a more apt word would be “isolation”. Initially, Macondo is geographically isolated from the rest of the world. When new innovations come along, as Jon points out above, it doesn’t seem to end too well. It’s as if the family is trapped in their ways like a prison cell- which is obviously incredibly isolating.
Nandita Parmar
March 6, 2023 — 12:57 pm
Hi!
Great question – I think I would attribute solitude to what you’ve mentioned: emptiness. It seems as though even with all the changes and coming/going, the family and the town both feel empty… in the sense that multitude and obsession really just end up erasing a lot of individuality and just space for the individual consciousness to grow and reflect. I feel like even if the last child had been named something different, they would not have been able to escape their destiny by way of their history, but could’ve maybe chosen to go about their life in a separated and different way!
neko smart
March 6, 2023 — 3:30 pm
Hey Julia,
Thanks for this! In regard to the new baby, I actually screamed at my laptop when they chose not to name him Rodrigo. As for your question, I think solitude is best exemplified through simply the act of living. This novel does a great job of showing that, despite these characters being surrounded by people, they still feel ’empty’ as they struggle to find their place in an everchanging world. Hopefully see you in class tomorrow!
Curtis Holt-Robinson
March 6, 2023 — 7:34 pm
Hi Julia,
Good blog post this week.
To your point about the birth/fate of the last Buendia, Aurenliano, you ask if his name were different would his fate be different as well. Perhaps, yet, as is shown in Melquiades’s scripture, they could have not but named him Aureliano for that itself, the naming, was predestined. The story obviously focuses on nominal determinism – that a name predestines one to act a certain way. Yet revealed in Melaquiades’s writings, there is a determinism of the nominal determinism in the story (super meta haha).
And finally, I believe Rebeca, for me, highlighted the most notable manner of solitude. After the death of Jose Arcadio, no one, absolutely no one hears from her, interacts with her, for the majority of her life. In fact, the Buendias think about her so little (with the exception of Ursula) that they all believe her to be dead. The most upsetting case of solitude for me – as her own family, sister, mother, etc., forget about her completely and she occupies no space in their minds.
See you soon!
Curtis HR
Marisa Ortiz
March 9, 2023 — 12:53 am
I really appreciate your opening comments about the tedium of the novel. I definitely started to feel exhausted by circle of names around the half-way mark, and I was getting frustrated with the amount of time I had to spend flipping to the front of the book to consult the family tree. In reference to your question, I think you could say this was an intentional tool of Garcia Marquez’s; to me, solitude has to do with a certain degree of tedium and monotony and I think Garcia Marquez’s goal may have been to exhaust his readers with this repetition as much as it exhausted his characters.