This Day in Death

4.17.14: Gabriel García Márquez – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 8:39 am May 1, 2014

 GABRIEL_GARCIA_MARQUEZIf you were planning to pick up Marquez’s short story Big Momma’s Funeral, please note that it is not, in fact, the basis for Martin Lawrence’s Big Momma’s House film franchise. Really, the only similarity between the two is the truly shocking amount of fart jokes. Clean it up already, Gabo!


Spanish-language author Gabriel Garcia Marquez, best known for his 1967 novel One Hundred Years of Solitude, has died. Despite earning praise so effusive that its literary import was compared to that of the Bible (which is, like, the Bible of Bibles), you may be surprised to find out that Solitude was in actuality awful until Oprah decided otherwise in 2004. By entering it into her book club, it became the novel that launched thousands of impressionable women from their indoor cat gazebos and through the doors of Borders locations throughout the country. Hmm… Odd that fans of a woman who’s made billions by exploiting the insecurities of her followers would be so into a book about loneliness. You always assume those ladies have it all.

He achieved fame for pioneering magical realism, a unique blending of the marvellous and the mundane in a way that made the extraordinary seem routine.

With his books, he brought Latin America’s charm and teaming contradictions to life in the minds of millions of people.

That all might be a bit heady for those of you who got degrees in employment-centric fields (sell-outs!), so allow me to boil all that down to a sort of unfair generalization stew: Magical realism is when you write yourself into a corner, decide “fuck it,” give a character a pair of angel wings or something, and say it’s a metaphor when called out about it. It’s the non-cartoon equivalent of how they got rid of Poochie.

If this post can bear any more academic analysis, I’d like to note how much I enjoy that Marquez wrote his novels exclusively in Spanish: All those extra squiggly lines just make everything look so festive, like each sentence is having its own little party right there on the page. Or ‘fiesta,’ if you will. Okay, well… that’s probably enough insight for my book circle, time to catch up on Total Divas. Later, all you basic bitches!


Source: BBC

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