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298 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1975
“¿Cómo es posible que este indio pueda escribir una cosa tan bella con la misma mano con la que se limpia el culo?”Esto mismo, dicho por Márquez en relación a Rubén Darío y por boca de su patriarca, es lo que me sale a mí después de leer esta maravilla que es “El otoño del patriarca”. Esta novela supera en mi escalafón garcíamarquiano a Cien años de soledad o Amor en los tiempos del cólera, no les digo más.
“…decían que yo era el benemérito que le infundía respeto a la naturaleza y enderezaba el orden del universo y le había bajado los humos a la Divina Providencia.”El realismo mágico está muy presente en toda la novela dando base a una parodia del mito de este dictador compendio de tantos dictadores hispanos. Su mandato, cuyo destino venía prefijado en la ausencia de las líneas de la mano, duró varios siglos y terminó en la forma “anunciada desde siempre en las aguas premonitorias de los lebrillos”, engendró a más de cinco mil hijos sietemesinos y fue capaz hasta de vender el mar caribe a pedazos para ser plantado lejos “en las auroras de sangre de Arizona” o de regalar el paso de un cometa a su amada. Toda la narración se establece en un tiempo circular que no avanza y que comienza hasta seis veces, una por cada capítulo, con la misma imagen del patriarca…
“con el uniforme de lienzo sin insignias, las polainas, la espuela de oro en el talón izquierdo, más viejo que todos los hombres y todos los animales viejos de la tierra y del agua, y estaba tirado en el suelo, bocabajo, con el brazo derecho doblado bajo la cabeza para que le sirviera de almohada, como había dormido noche tras noche durante todas las noches de su larguísima vida de déspota solitario.”… en un flujo continuo donde escasean los signos de puntuación y las voces narrativas, en primera o tercera persona, se suceden sin cortes ni espacios configurando un estilo que tanto me ha recordado al de mi admirado Lobo Antunes, autor que decía que “la literatura es un delirio organizado” y que tan bien cuadra para definir esta novela.
“…cuando al cabo de tantos y tantos años de ilusiones estériles había empezado a vislumbrar que no se vive, qué carajo, se sobrevive, se aprende demasiado tarde que hasta las vidas más dilatadas y útiles no alcanzan para nada más que para aprender a vivir, había conocido su incapacidad de amor en el enigma de la palma de sus manos mudas y en las cifras invisibles de las barajas y había tratado de compensar aquel destino infame con el culto abrasador del vicio solitario del poder, se había hecho víctima de su secta para inmolarse en las llamas de aquel holocausto infinito, se había cebado en la falacia y el crimen, había medrado en la impiedad y el oprobio y se había sobrepuesto a su avaricia febril y al miedo congénito sólo por conservar hasta el fin de los tiempos su bolita de vidrio en el puño sin saber que era un vicio sin término cuya saciedad generaba su propio apetito hasta el fin de todos los tiempos…”
because this reminded me of what happened (Alzheimer's being similar to dementia in some ways) before Dame Iris Murdoch died in 1999. This entry in the Wiki broke my heart:
THE FAREWELL LETTER of Gabriel Garcia MarquezAs I am reading these phrases, I am crying. They are so beautiful and expresses for the last time the brilliance that we've learned to love in reading Garcia Marquez's works.
"If for a while God forgot that I’m a puppet and gave me a piece of life, probably I wouldn’t say everything that I think, but definitivelly I would think everything that I say.
I would give more value to things not because of what they cost but because of what they mean.
I would sleep less and dream more. I understand that for each minute that we close our eyes, we lose sixty seconds of light. I would walk when the others stopped, I would wake up when the others slept, I would listen when the others spoke, and how much I would enjoy a chocolate ice-cream!
If God gave me a piece of life I would dress simply, I would lie on the sun, “showing” not only my body but my soul. My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hate on the ice and I would wait for the sun to rise.
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My God, if I had a piece of life... I won't let a single day pass without saying people I love how much I love them. I would convince every single women and men that they are my favourites and I would live in love with love.
I would prove people how wrong they are to think that they stop falling in love when they get older, without knowing that they get older when they stop falling in love!
To a kid... I would give him wings, but I let him alone to learn how to fly. To the elder, I would teach them that death does not arrive with being old but with forgetting.
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There are so many things I have learned from you, people... I have learned that everybody wants to live at the peak of the mountain without knowing that the true happiness lays in the way ���you get into it”.
I have learned that when a new born grasp his father’s fist for the first time, he caught him forever.
I have learned that a man has only the right to look down to another when he has to help him to stand up. There are so many things I have been able to learn from you, but actually they won’t be that worth, because when they keep me into this suitcase, unhappily I will be dying.
Always say what you feel and do what you think.
If I knew today as the last time I’m gonna see you sleep, I would hug you so strong and I would pray the lord to be able to be the guardian of your soul. If I knew this is the last time I’m gonna see you going out through that door, I would give you a hug, a kiss and I would call you again to give you more. If I knew this was the last time I am gonna hear your voice, I would record each one of your words to be able to hear them forever. If I knew these were the last moments I see you I would tell you “I love you” and I wouldn’t assume, stupidly, that you already know it.
There is always a tomorrow and life gives us the opportunity to do things right, but in case I’m wrong and today is the only thing we have left, I would like to tell you how much I love you, and that I’m never going to forget you.
Nobody has for sure a tomorrow, young or old. Today can be the last time you see the ones you love. So... don’t wait more, do it today, because if tomorrow never comes, you will for sure regret the day you didn’t take time for a smile, a hug, a kiss, and that you were so occupied to give them their last wish. Keep the ones you love near you, tell them in their ear how much you need them. Love them and treat them good. Take time to tell them “I’m sorry”, “forgive me”, “please”, “thank you”, and all the love words you know.
Nobody will remember you for your secret thoughts. Ask God for the strength and the wisdom to express them. Show your friend how important they are for you."
A person needed an iron liver to refuse a favor to someone who was singing his praises, and now on the contrary there was no one to ask him for anything, no one to say to him at least good morning general sir, did you have a good night, he didn't even have the consolation of those nocturnal explosions that woke him up with a hail of broken glass and blew the doors off their hinges and sowed panic among the troops but which at least made him feel he was alive and not in this silence that buzzes inside my head and wakes me up with its noise, all I am now is a fright painted on the wall of this horror show…