Magical Words

When I went for the trip a few weeks ago, I chose to bring a book I've not started at all instead of one of the numerous others that I had already begun. I reckoned I would have both the time and the mood to read during the trip, so i wanted to make sure I brought along a book that I would very much enjoy.

I didn't have to think long about what book I want to bring. I'm the sort 'who saves the best for the last', and though this was no last trip nor last book, my choice was decidedly Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. I had bought the book long ago but consciously delayed starting on it, knowing that once I read it I would finish very quickly. For I knew García Márquez's spellbinding novels would be hard to put down once you started reading them.

As expected, I finished reading the book in a week or so. I read it on the train, while walking to office, and even stayed up late just to savour a few more pages, a few more lines. Even though I feel Love in the Time of Cholerea was a better book - and indeed i enjoyed it more than I did the former - I was nevertheless mesmerised and totally captivated by García Márquez's words which I can only describe as magical. They are full of empathy and humanity.

"The revision of the deeds took place at the same time as the summary court-martial presided over by Colonel Gerineldo Marquez, which ended the execution of all officers of the regular army who had been taken prisoner by the revolutionaries. The last court-martial was that of Joss Raquel Buendia. “I don’t have to tell you anything about his good heart, about his affection for us, because you know better than anyone.” Colonel Aureliano Buendia gave her a disapproving look.

“I can’t take over the job of administering justice,” he replied. “If you have something to say, tell it to the court-martial.”

Ursala not only did that, she also brought all of the mothers of the revolutionary officers who lived in Maconda to testify. One by one the old women who had been founders of the town, several of whom had taken part in the daring crossing of the mountains, praised the virtues of General Mocanda. Ursala was the last in line. Her gloomy dignity, the weight of her name, the convincing vehemence of her declaration made the scale of justice hesitate for a moment. “You have taken this horrible game very seriously and you have done well because you are doing your duty,” she told the members of the court. “But don’t forget that as long as God gives us life we will still be mothers and no matter how revolutionary you may be, we have the right to pull down your pants and give you the whipping at the first sign of disrespect.” The court retired to deliberate as those words still echoed in the school that had been turned into a barracks. At midnight General Jose Raquel Moncada was sentenced to death. Colonel Aureliano Buendia, in spite of the violent recriminations of Ursala, refused to commute the sentence. A short while before dawn he visited the condemned man in the room used as a cell."

One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez