For a significant portion of Indian readers who grew up in the 80s and 90s in families that put a premium on serious literature, Gabriel Garcia Marquez was the god of the bookshelf. I remember going to houses of relatives and finding One Hundred Years of Solitude in English and Malayalam translations with a myriad of cover designs.
One Hundred Years of Solitude, with its enchanting clouds of butterflies and expeditions to find ice, was of course the essential Marquez. Even now, uncles, aunts and cousins and college classmates who’d gulped it down decades ago get misty-eyed when quoting from one of the greatest books ever written. The only other Marquez book that caught fire in the popular imagination was Love in The Time of Cholera.
But, if I had to name my favourite Marquez book, it would have to be The General in His Labyrinth. This is a novel that has long been slightly overshadowed — at least outside Latin America — by Marquez’s other output. But, it shouldn’t be.
The book is about the last months of the life of South America’s great liberator, Simon Bolivar. Any other writer looking to fictionalise the life of his home continent’s legendary leader would probably have chosen to depict Bolivar’s greatest victories. But Marquez, inspired by a book that his friend had attempted to write about Bolivar’s final journey down the Magdalena River, chose to show the revolutionary in his frailty, weeks away from death. When it was published in 1989 — the English translation would come out a year later — there
was outrage in Latin America. The idea of depicting their founding father as a constipated, hallucinating wanderer was a bit much for some readers in Colombia and Venezuela. There was also dissatisfaction among anglophone readers when the English version was released — this was not the Marquez they knew. Where was the swooning romance and humour?
The General in His Labyrinth takes a darker look at most things — how revolutions die, how heroes rot, how dreams in this life seldom get realised. Love is a wasteland, too. But the power of the visionary — and there are few in history to compare to Bolivar — is explored by Marquez with unparalleled skill and empathy. Sure, he’s on this expedition on the river to revisit old glories and loves — but there’s a raging life still inside his failing body. The supporting cast of characters are based mostly on real life figures and none looms as large in the narrative as Manuela Saenz. She was Bolivar’s lover, spy, protector from assassins and fierce loyalist to the bitter end.
Marquez himself regretted the lack of humour in the book, which probably kept it from achieving the mythical status given to One Hundred Years of Solitude. But, this is a story essentially about death and how not even the greatest revolutionary can escape it. And as we watch statues being toppled and historical narratives being questioned, it’s the Marquez book we need to read right now.
The author is a Bangalore-based writer and communications professional with many published short stories and essays to her credit.
That One Book is a fortnightly column that does exactly what it says — takes up one great classic and tells you why it is (still) great. Come, raid the bookshelves with us.