Gabriel García Márquez, Literary Pioneer, Dies at 87

Unfortunately, the literary criticism that I sought out back then at liberal arts college, focused mostly on the metaphor of the European colonialism on Latin America (industrialization of the town with the rubber-plant, and the subsequent massacre of the residents after some kind of rubber-plant revolution, consequences of military rule and violent overthrows as embodied by Colonel Buendia and circular nature of the history, Spanish colonialism past long felt after Latin America became independent).

Tbh, I'm not really interested in the whole multiculturalism and ethnic studies rehashing the white guilt trope. However, I find the obsession of the various characters fascinating, the scientific obsession of the original patriach that eventually descended into madness, Colonel Buendia making little gold fishes, the incestuous natures of the whole family, some ethereal nympho character that doesn't speak a word and then one day transcend to haven much to the horror of the venerable matriarch. What is your interpretation of the book?

Merely goes for the surprise element.

The other quote also:

1) gives more plot information (the hero is an older man, sentenced to death),

2) beautifully evokes his nostalgia before death (remembering an event from his childhood)

3) AND builds suspense: He is at the moment in front of the firing squad. Will he die? Get a pardon? Somehow be resqued?

But I was thinking of Bohumil Hrabal as my most dear author.

In some respects they are very different, in that Hrabal doesn't quite have the same magical realism bent. But in their writing itself, in their structure, they are often similar: Hrabal also favors extremely long sentences. Hrabal's book Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age is actually just one long run-on sentence that spans 160 pages. Even when Hrabal's sentences are not long, his paragraph breaks are few. It drives some people mad, but I think if you can follow along, it is an immense pleasure to read.

Both of them adore language:

> "Because when I read, I don't really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing through the veins to the root of each blood vessel."

An example of those beautiful sentences: https://gist.github.com/simonsarris/11014861 (made a gist so I stop polluting comment-space so much)

That's from Too Loud a Solitude by Hrabal, a short book, probably the most beautiful pamphlet I have ever read.