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Αφιέρωμα στον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

 

 

Ένα μικρό αφιέρωμα στο σύγχρονο κλασικό συγγραφέα από έγκυρες εφημερίδες: “ΤΑ ΝΕΑ”, “ΤΟ ΒΗΜΑ”, “Η ΑΥΓΗ”, “The New York Times”, “The Guardian”.

Επιμέλεια: Ν.Τ.

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ΤΑ ΝΕΑ

«Εφυγε» ο πατέρας του «μαγικού ρεαλισμού» Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Σάκης Μαλαβάκης  | ΔΗΜΟΣΙΕΥΣΗ: 17/04/2014

«Εφυγε» ο πατέρας του «μαγικού ρεαλισμού» Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

ΔΙΑΒΑΣΤΕ ΑΚΟΜΗ

«Χίλια χρόνια μοναξιάς και θλίψης»: Παγκόσμια συγκίνηση για τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος στην Κολομβία για τον Γαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

 

Την τελευταία του πνοή άφησε ο σπουδαίος νομπελίστας συγγραφέας Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες στην ηλικία των 87 ετών. Ο πατέρας του «μαγικού ρεαλισμού» γεννήθηκε στις 6 Μαρτίου του 1927 στην Αρακατάκα, ένα παραλιακό χωριό της Κολομβίας, όπου μεγάλωσε κοντά στους παππούδες του από τη μεριά της μητέρας του. Το 1947 άρχισε να σπουδάζει στο Πανεπιστήμιο της Μπογκοτά Νομική και Πολιτικές Επιστήμες ενώ την ίδια χρονιά η εφημερίδα El Espectador δημοσίευσε το πρώτο διήγημά του με τίτλο «Η τρίτη παραίτηση».

Το 1948, ο Μάρκες μετακόμισε στην Καρταχένα, όπου ξεκίνησε να εργάζεται ως δημοσιογράφος στην εφημερίδα El Universal. Έξι χρόνια μετά, το 1954, βρέθηκε στη Ρώμη ως απεσταλμένος της εφημερίδας που εργαζόταν εκείνη την περίοδο. Έκτοτε, ο Γκάμπο, όπως τον αποκαλούσαν χαϊδευτικά στη Λατινική Αμερική, επέλεξε να ζει μακριά από την πατρίδα του – στο Παρίσι, στη Νέα Υόρκη, στην Βαρκελώνη και στο Μεξικό – σε μία, λίγο πολύ, αναγκαστική αυτοεξορία κατά την οποία συνεργάστηκε με πολλά περιοδικά και εφημερίδες τόσο στην Αμερική όσο και την Ευρώπη. Το πρώτο μυθιστόρημά του, «Τα νεκρά φύλλα», εκδόθηκε το 1955 και ακολούθησαν τα έργα «Κακιά ώρα», «Ο Συνταγματάρχης δεν έχει κανέναν να του γράψει» και «Η κηδεία της μεγάλης μάμα». Το 1967 κυκλοφόρησε το έργο «Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιά», μυθιστόρημα που αποκόμισε αμέσως διθυραμβικές κριτικές και κέρδισε το παγκόσμιο αναγνωστικό κοινό, καθιερώνοντας έτσι τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες ως έναν από τους μεγαλύτερους συγγραφείς του 20ου αιώνα.

Στο πλούσιο συγγραφικό του έργο που το 1982 του χάρισε το Νομπέλ Λογοτεχνίας, συμπεριλαμβάνονται και τα μυθιστορήματα: «Το φθινόπωρο του Πατριάρχη», «Χρονικό ενός προαναγγελθέντος θανάτου», «Ο έρωτας στα χρόνια της χολέρας», «Δώδεκα διηγήματα περιπλανώμενα» και «Περί έρωτος και άλλων δαιμονίων». Επίσης, έχει γράψει άρθρα σε περιοδικά, βιβλία με διηγήματα και κινηματογραφικά σενάρια.

Σύμφωνα με τα μέλη της επιτροπής που του απένειμε το βαρύτιμο λογοτεχνικό βραβείο ο κορυφαίος συγγραφέας της Κολομβίας τιμήθηκε «για τα μυθιστορήματα και τις μικρές ιστορίες του, όπου το φανταστικό και το ρεαλιστικό συνδυάζονται σε έναν πλούσια σύνθετο κόσμο της φαντασίας ο οποίος αντικατοπτρίζει τη ζωή και τις συγκρούσεις μιας ηπείρου».

 

Μπιλ Κλίντον: «Με τιμούσε να είμαι φίλος του και να γνωρίζω τη μεγάλη του καρδιά και το λαμπρό του μυαλό»

«Χίλια χρόνια μοναξιάς και θλίψης»: Παγκόσμια συγκίνηση για τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Το πορτρέτο του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες κοσμεί ένα κτίριο στη Μπογκοτά. Δύο νεαροί Κολομβιανοί το βγάζουν φωτογραφία με το κινητό τους: Ενα homage της κουλτούρας του 21ου αιώνα στον άνθρωπο που διαμόρφωσε αυτήν του 20ου.

«Χίλια χρόνια μοναξιάς και θλίψης»: Παγκόσμια συγκίνηση για τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

 

«Εφυγε» ο πατέρας του «μαγικού ρεαλισμού» Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος στην Κολομβία για τον Γαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

 

Τη θλίψη τους για τον θάνατο του πατριάρχη του μαγικού ρεαλισμού, Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες, που πέθανε την Πέμπτη σε ηλικία 87 ετών, εκφράζουν ηγέτες κρατών, στέλνοντας συλλυπητήρια στην οικογένειά του.

«Χίλια χρόνια μοναξιάς και θλίψης για τον θάνατο του σπουδαιότερου Κολομβιανού όλων των εποχών! Αλληλεγγύη και συλλυπητήρια στην οικογένεια του Γκάμπο»  έγραψε το βράδυ της Μεγάλης Πέμπτης ο πρόεδρος της Κολομβίας Χουάν Μανουέλ Σάντος στον λογαριασμό του στο Twitter, σε ένα μήνυμα που παραπέμπει στο διάσημο έργο του Μάρκες, «Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιάς».

Μόλις μερικές ώρες νωρίτερα ο Σάντος είχε δηλώσει πως βρισκόταν σε επαφή με την οικογένεια του διάσημου συγγραφέα και είχε ζητήσει από τα μέσα ενημέρωσης να σταματήσουν τη σεναριολογία για την κατάστασή του, αν και ήδη οι πληροφορίες από την οικογένειά του ήταν δυσοίωνες.

«Γεννήθηκε στην Κολομβία, αλλά έκανε το Μεξικό το σπίτι του για δεκαετίες, πλουτίζοντας έτσι τη ζωή μας. Ας αναπαυθεί εν ειρήνη» έγραψε ο πρόεδρος του Μεξικού Ενρίκε Πένια Νιέτο στο Twitter.

Οι αρχές του Μεξικού υποσχέθηκαν μια κηδεία «αντάξια» του αναστήματος του βραβευμένου με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας συγγραφέα, αλλά και ότι θα σεβαστούν τις επιθυμίες της οικογένειάς του.

Ο πρόεδρος των ΗΠΑ Μπαράκ Ομπάμα εξέφρασε τα συλλυπητήριά του για τον θάνατο του Γκαρσία Μάρκες και σημείωσε πως «το έργο του Γκάμπο θα συνεχίσει να εμπνέει τις επόμενες γενιές». «Ο κόσμος έχασε έναν από τους μεγαλύτερους οραματιστές συγγραφείς του, έναν από τους αγαπημένους μου από όταν ήμουν νέος» τόνισε σε ανακοίνωσή του. «Είχα μια φορά το προνόμιο να συναντηθώ μαζί του στο Μεξικό, όπου μου χάρισε ένα βιβλίο με αφιέρωση που κρατάω ευλαβικά ως και σήμερα» πρόσθεσε.

Ο πρώην πρόεδρος των ΗΠΑ Μπιλ Κλίντον, προσωπικός φίλος του Γκαρσία Μάρκες, εξέφρασε επίσης τα συλλυπητήριά του για το θάνατο του λογοτέχνη. «Από τότε που διάβασα τα "Εκατό Χρόνια Μοναξιά" πριν από 40 χρόνια και πλέον, πάντα μου προκαλούσαν θαυμασμό τα μοναδικά του δώρα της φαντασίας, της σαφήνειας της σκέψης, της συναισθηματικής εντιμότητας. Απαθανάτισε τον πόνο και τη χαρά της ανθρωπότητας σε σκηνικά τόσο πραγματικά όσο και μαγικά» ανέφερε ο Κλίντον σε ανακοίνωσή του. «Με τιμούσε να είμαι φίλος του και να γνωρίζω τη μεγάλη του καρδιά και το λαμπρό του μυαλό για πάνω από 20 χρόνια. Τα συλλυπητήριά μου στη (σύζυγό του) Μερσέδες, στην οικογένειά του, στους φίλους και στους θαυμαστές του σε όλο τον κόσμο».

Ο Γκαρσία Μάρκες γιόρτασε τα 87α γενέθλιά του την 6η Μαρτίου. Είχε βγει από το σπίτι του για λίγο για να χαιρετίσει τους φωτογράφους και τους δημοσιογράφους που βρίσκονταν έξω, χωρίς να κάνει δηλώσεις.

Ο Γκαρσία Μάρκες, ο πατέρας του λογοτεχνικού είδους που έγινε γνωστό ως μαγικός ρεαλισμός, συνέβαλε σημαντικά με το έργο του στο να αναδειχθεί η αξιοσημείωτη λογοτεχνική παραγωγή στη Λατινική Αμερική τις δεκαετίες του 1950, του 1960 και του 1970.

Ο Περουβιανός Μάριο Βάργκας Γιόσα, άλλοτε στενός φίλος του Μάρκες, επίσης βραβευμένος με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας, απομένει ο μόνος επιζών εκείνης της γενιάς.

«Ένας μεγάλος συγγραφέας πέθανε. Το έργο του έδωσε μεγάλη απήχηση και κύρος στη λογοτεχνία. Τα βιβλία του θα τον κρατήσουν ζωντανό, θα συνεχίσουν να κερδίζουν αναγνώστες παντού. Εκφράζω τα συλλυπητήριά μου στην οικογένειά του», είπε ο Βάργκας Γιόσα στην εφημερίδα Ελ Κομέρσιο του Περού.

Οι δύο άλλοτε φίλοι είχαν αποξενωθεί στα μέσα της δεκαετίας του ’70 και λέγεται ότι δεν μίλησαν ποτέ ξανά έκτοτε.

 

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος στην Κολομβία για τον Γαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

 

O πρόεδρος της Κολομβίας, Χουάν Μανουέλ Σάντος, σε τηλεοπτικό του διάγγελμα την Πέμπτη ανακοινώνει το τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος για τον θάνατο του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες.

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος στην Κολομβία για τον Γαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος κήρυξε ο πρόεδρος της Κολομβίας, Χουάν Μανουέλ Σάντος στη μνήμη του τιμημένου με Νόμπελ συγγραφέα Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες, ο οποίος πέθανε την Πέμπτη στο σπίτι του στο Μεξικό σε ηλικία 87 ετών.

«Για να αποτίσουμε φόρο τιμής στη μνήμη του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες κηρύσσω τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος» δήλωσε ο Σάντος στη διάρκεια σύντομου τηλεοπτικού διαγγέλματος.

Ο κολομβιανός πρόεδρος ζήτησε επίσης να κυματίζουν μεσίστιες οι σημαίες σε όλα τα δημόσια κτίρια. «Ελπίζουμε ότι οι Κολομβιανοί θα κάνουν το ίδιο στα σπίτια τους» επισήμανε.

«Ολόκληρη η Κολομβία πενθεί, καθώς έφυγε ο πιο αγαπητός και αξιοθαύμαστος συμπατριώτης μας όλων των εποχών» σχολίασε ο Σάντος. «Υπήρξε, και δεν υπερβάλω, ο Κολομβιανός ο οποίος σε ολόκληρη την ιστορία της χώρας μας μετέφερε πιο μακριά και πιο ψηλά το όνομα της πατρίδας μας» συνέχισε.

Ο κολομβιανός πρόεδρος αναφέρθηκε στο έργο του Μάρκες, που τιμήθηκε με το βραβείο Νόμπελ το 1982 και στο είδος γραφής του, τον μαγικό ρεαλισμό.

«Για εμάς τους Κολομβιανούς ο Μάρκες δεν εφηύρε τον μαγικό ρεαλισμό, ήταν ο σημαντικότερος εκπρόσωπός του σε μια χώρα που εκπροσωπεί η ίδια τον μαγικό ρεαλισμό. Μια χώρα που συνδυάζει τη χαρά και τον πόνο, την ποίηση και τη σύγκρουση» επισήμανε ο Σάντος.

Στη διάρκεια του διαγγέλματός του, ο Σάντος δεν διευκρίνισε αν η κηδεία του Μάρκες θα γίνει στο Μεξικό, όπου ζούσε από το 1961, ή στη γενέτειρα του. Όπως όμως δήλωσε στην οικογένεια του συγγραφέα θα θέσει στη διάθεσή της το προεδρικό αεροσκάφος για την περίπτωση που επιθυμεί να τον κηδέψει στην Κολομβία.

Από την πλευρά της μία από τις αδερφές του Μάρκες εξέφρασε την επιθυμία της η σορός του συγγραφέα να μεταφερθεί στην Κολομβία.

«Ο Γκαμπίτο είναι από την Κολομβία. Πρέπει να φέρουν τον Γκαμπίτο. Δεν είχα χρόνο να το σκεφτώ αλλά δεν υπάρχει αμφιβολία ότι πρέπει να έλθει και ότι πρέπει να τον φέρουν» στην Κολομβία, δήλωσε η Αΐντα Γκαρσία Μάρκες μιλώντας στο κολομβιανό ραδιόφωνο.

Παρόλα αυτά παραδέχθηκε ότι την τελική απόφαση θα λάβει η σύζυγος του Μάρκες, Μερσέδες Μπάρσα και οι δύο γιοι του Γκονσάλο και Ροδρίγο.

 

ΤΟ ΒΗΜΑ

Κουζέλη Λαμπρινή

Πέθανε ο συγγραφέας Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Ο 87χρονος κολομβιανός νομπελίστας ήταν ο πατριάρχης του λατινοαμερικάνικου μαγικού ρεαλισμού – Αντιμετώπιζε το τελευταίο διάστημα προβλήματα υγείας

ΔΗΜΟΣΙΕΥΣΗ:  17/04/2014

Πέθανε ο συγγραφέας Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Την τελευταία του πνοή άφησε σε ηλικία 87 ετών ο βραβευμένος με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας κολομβιανός συγγραφέας, Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες.

Εδώ και αρκετά χρόνια είχε αποσυρθεί από τη δημόσια ζωή καθώς έπασχε από καρκίνο στους λεμφαδένες.

Στις 6 Μαρτίου έκλεισε τα 87 του χρόνια και με την ευκαιρία αυτή βγήκε για λίγα λεπτά από το σπίτι του για να χαιρετίσει τους φωτορεπόρτερ και τους δημοσιογράφους που είχαν συγκεντρωθεί απ’ έξω.

Ο συγγραφέας του μνημειώδους μυθιστορήματος Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιά (1967) είχε νοσηλευθεί στις αρχές Απριλίου σε νοσοκομείο της Πόλης του Μεξικού με πνευμονία. Εδώ και αρκετά χρόνια είχε αποσυρθεί από τη δημόσια ζωή. Είχε ασθενήσει από καρκίνο στους λεμφαδένες ενώ ο αδελφός του είχε ανακοινώσει πρόσφατα ότι έπασχε και από άνοια.

 

Η ζωή και το έργο του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Γεννημένος το 1927 στην Αρακατάκα, ένα παραλιακό χωριό της Κολομβίας, έζησε τα πρώτα δέκα χρόνια της ζωής του κοντά στους παππούδες του από τη μεριά της μητέρας του. Τον πατέρα του τον αντιπαθούσε, ενώ τη μητέρα του την πρωτοείδε όταν ήταν δέκα ετών και από το σοκ αυτό δεν συνήλθε ποτέ. Τα χρόνια της παιδικής ηλικίας κοντά στους παππούδες του ήταν το ορυχείο της μελλοντικής αφηγηματικής του έμπνευσης. Ο ίδιος έλεγε πως στη γραφή του προσπαθούσε να συνδυάσει το αφηγηματικό ύφος της γιαγιάς του, η οποία του έλεγε φανταστικές ιστορίες σαν να ήταν πραγματικές, και του Κάφκα. Εξαιρετικά σημαντική ήταν και η επίδραση του συνταγματάρχη παππού του ο οποίος ενέπνευσε πολλούς χαρακτήρες των μυθιστορημάτων του. «Ημουν οκτώ ετών όταν πέθανε. Από τότε τίποτε σημαντικό δεν μου συνέβη» έλεγε ο Μάρκες. Υπήρξε όμως και φανατικός αναγνώστης από παιδί. Σε ηλικία οκτώ ετών διάβασε τις Χίλιες και μία νύχτες και ο κόσμος των βιβλίων ανήκε στο μεγάλο απόθεμα των αφηγήσεων που τον ακολουθούσαν σε όλη του τη ζωή.

Το 1947 άρχισε στο Πανεπιστήμιο της Μπογκοτά σπουδές Νομικής και Πολιτικών Επιστημών. Τον ίδιο χρόνο η εφημερίδα Ελ Εσπεκταδόρ δημοσίευσε το πρώτο διήγημά του με τίτλο «Η τρίτη παραίτηση». Το 1948 μετακόμισε στην Καρταχένα των Δυτικών Ινδιών και άρχισε να εργάζεται ως δημοσιογράφος στην εφημερίδα Ελ Ουνιβερσάλ. Συνεργάστηκε με πολλά περιοδικά και εφημερίδες στην Αμερική και την Ευρώπη. Την πρώτη του νουβέλα Τα νεκρά φύλλα (1955) ακολούθησε η νουβέλα Ο Συνταγματάρχης δεν έχει κανέναν να του γράψει (1961) και το μυθιστόρημα Κακιά ώρα (1962).

Εργαζόμενος περιστασιακά ως δημοσιογράφος, σεναριογράφος και κριτικός κινηματογράφου προσπαθούσε να βγάλει το ψωμί του τα πρώτα σαράντα χρόνια της ζωής του, τα οποία πέρασαν μέσα σε μεγάλες οικονομικές αγωνίες. Η τύχη του άλλαξε με την έκδοση, το 1967, του μυθιστορήματος που θα τον έκανε διάσημο σε όλον τον κόσμο, έχοντας ξεπεράσει ως τώρα σε πωλήσεις τα 50 εκατ. αντίτυπα, το Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιά. Το πώς γεννήθηκε στο μυαλό του η πρόταση από την οποία ξεπήδησε το μυθιστόρημα είχε αφηγηθεί ο ίδιος, με τον απαράμιλλο τρόπο του, σε συνεντεύξεις: «Είχαµε ξεκινήσει για διακοπές. Οδηγούσα το αυτοκίνητο στον δρόµο προς το Ακαπούλκο όταν σχηµατίστηκε στο µυαλό µου µια πρόταση. Έκανα επί τόπου στροφή, γύρισα στο σπίτι και άρχισα να γράφω».

Το μυθιστόρημα καθιέρωσε τον Μάρκες ως έναν από τους σημαντικούς πεζογράφους της ισπανικής γλώσσας – μάλιστα ο ομότεχνός του Κάρλος Φουέντες τον θεωρούσε τον δεύτερο μεγάλο συγγραφέα στην ισπανική μετά τον Θερβάντες. Αποτελεί κορυφαία μορφή της λατινοαμερικάνικης πεζογραφικής «γενιάς της έκρηξης» και υπήρξε ο πατριάρχης του λατινοαμερικάνικου μαγικού ρεαλισμού. Έχει περάσει στην ιστορία της λογοτεχνίας ως ένας από τους μεγάλους συγγραφείς του 20ού αιώνα. Το 1982 βραβεύθηκε με το Νομπέλ Λογοτεχνίας «για τα μυθιστορήματα και τα διηγήματά του στα οποία το φανταστικό και το ρεαλιστικό παντρεύονται σε έναν πλούσιο, περίπλοκο κόσμο φαντασίας, αντανακλώντας τη ζωή και τις συγκρούσεις μιας ηπείρου».

Άλλα έργα: Το φθινόπωρο του Πατριάρχη (1975), Χρονικό ενός προαναγγελθέντος θανάτου (1981), Ο έρωτας στα χρόνια της χολέρας (1985), Δώδεκα διηγήματα περιπλανώμενα (1992) και Περί έρωτος και άλλων δαιμονίων (1994).

Ο Μάρκες συνδεόταν με δεσμούς φιλίας με τον Φιντέλ Κάστρο αλλά υποστήριζε ότι το μόνο επαναστατικό καθήκον του συγγραφέα είναι να γράφει όσο καλύτερα μπορεί.

Το 1999 διαγνώστηκε με καρκίνο στους λεμφαδένες. Στη διάρκεια της θεραπείας του πήρε την απόφαση να συντάξει την αυτοβιογραφία του. Τα επόμενα τρία χρόνια, όπως είπε σε συνεντεύξεις του, χάθηκε από προσώπου γης, σταμάτησε τα ταξίδια και τις δημόσιες εμφανίσεις, περιόρισε τις συναντήσεις με τους φίλους του και έγραφε πυρετωδώς. Το 2002 κυκλοφόρησαν τα απομνημονεύματά του των ετών 1927-1950, με τίτλο Ζω για να τη διηγούμαι. Στον τόμο αφηγείται τη ζωή των παιδικών και νεανικών του χρόνων ως τη στιγμή που έκανε πρόταση γάμου στη σύζυγό του Μερτσέντες, η οποία τον στήριξε με αφοσίωση σε όλη τη διάρκεια της κοινής τους ζωής.

Η συγγραφική σιωπή του μετά τις Θλιμμένες πουτάνες της ζωής μου (2004) είχε τροφοδοτήσει πολλά δημοσιεύματα τα οποία έκαναν λόγο για επιδείνωση της ασθένειάς του και άλλα προβλήματα υγείας, ορισμένα μάλιστα μιλούσαν ακόμη και για θάνατο του Μάρκες. Το 2012, μιλώντας σε φοιτητές στην Καρταχένα στην Κολομβία, ο αδελφός του Χάιμε είχε ανακοινώσει ότι ο «Γκάμπο», όπως τον αποκαλούσαν χαϊδευτικά η οικογένεια και οι φίλοι του, έπασχε από τη νόσο Αλτσχάιμερ.

 

Εύθραυστη η υγεία του συγγραφέα Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Στο νοσοκομείο ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Γεροντική άνοια βασανίζει τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Αντιπολίτευση στο Ιράν με Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Ο Μπιλ Κλίντον μεγάλος θαυμαστής του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες και ο Ρομπέρτο Πόμπο συναντούν τον κομαντάντε Μάρκος

Ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες «ανακρίνει» τον κομαντάντε Μάρκος

Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες: Μια ζωή σαν μυθιστόρημα

Ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες γράφει για τον Ούγκο Τσάβες

Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες: To χρονικό ενός κανιβαλισμού

Μπάλα προς τιμήν του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Αγιατολάχ Αλί Χαμενέι: «Επιβλαβείς και δηλητηριώδεις» ο Πλάτωνας, ο Τζόις, ο Μάρκες και ο Κοέλιο…

Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες«Ο Φιντέλ πάντα νικητής»

Ρωσία: «Ο Ναμπόκοφ και ο Μάρκες δικαιολογούν την παιδοφιλία»

Τριήμερο εθνικό πένθος για τον Γαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

Συλλυπητήρια από όλη την Λατινική Αμερική στην οικογένεια του Μάρκες

 

ΣΥΛΛΥΠΗΤΗΡΙΑ ΑΠΟ ΗΓΕΤΕΣ ΚΑΙ ΠΡΟΣΩΠΙΚΟΤΗΤΕΣ

«Χίλια χρόνια… θλίψης» για το θάνατο του Μάρκες

Μια νεκροφόρα μετέβη χθες το βράδυ στο σπίτι του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες, στη συνοικία Πεδρεγάλ, στο νότιο τμήμα της πρωτεύουσας του Μεξικού για να παραλάβει τη σορό του και να τη μεταφέρει σε ένα γραφείο τελετών. Το όχημα αναχώρησε συνοδευόμενο από ένα αυτοκίνητο με τους οικείους του και περιπολικά της αστυνομίας.

«Χίλια χρόνια... θλίψης» για το θάνατο του  Μάρκες

«Χίλια χρόνια μοναξιάς και θλίψης για το θάνατο του σπουδαιότερου Κολομβιανού όλων των εποχών! Αλληλεγγύη και συλλυπητήρια στην οικογένεια του Γκάμπο», έγραψε ο πρόεδρος της Κολομβίας Χουάν Μανουέλ Σάντος στον λογαριασμό του στον ιστότοπο κοινωνικής δικτύωσης Twitter.

Μόλις μερικές ώρες νωρίτερα ο Σάντος είχε δηλώσει πως βρισκόταν σε επαφή με την οικογένεια του διάσημου συγγραφέα και είχε ζητήσει από τα μέσα ενημέρωσης να σταματήσουν τη σεναριολογία για την κατάστασή του.

«Γεννήθηκε στην Κολομβία (αλλά) έκανε το Μεξικό το σπίτι του για δεκαετίες, πλουτίζοντας έτσι τη ζωή μας. Ας αναπαυθεί εν ειρήνη», έγραψεο πρόεδρος του Μεξικού Ενρίκε Πένια Νιέτο στο Twitter.

Οι αρχές του Μεξικού υποσχέθηκαν μια κηδεία «αντάξια» του αναστήματος του βραβευμένου με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας συγγραφέα, αλλά και ότι θα σεβαστούν τις επιθυμίες της οικογένειάς του.

Ο Γκαρσία Μάρκες, ο πατέρας του λογοτεχνικού είδους που έγινε γνωστό ως μαγικός ρεαλισμός, συνέβαλε σημαντικά με το έργο του να αναδειχθεί η αξιοσημείωτη λογοτεχνική παραγωγή στη Λατινική Αμερική τις δεκαετίες του 1950, του 1960 και του 1970. Ο Περουβιανός Μάριο Βάργκας Γιόσα, άλλοτε στενός φίλος του Μάρκες, επίσης βραβευμένος με Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας, απομένει ο μόνος επιζών εκείνης της γενιάς.

«Ένας μεγάλος συγγραφέας πέθανε. Το έργο του έδωσε μεγάλη απήχηση και κύρος στη λογοτεχνία. Τα βιβλία του θα τον κρατήσουν ζωντανό, θα συνεχίσουν να κερδίζουν αναγνώστες παντού. Εκφράζω τα συλλυπητήριά μου στην οικογένειά του», είπε ο Βάργκας Γιόσα στην εφημερίδα Ελ Κομέρσιο του Περού.

Οι δύο άλλοτε φίλοι είχαν αποξενωθεί στα μέσα της δεκαετίας του ’70 και λέγεται ότι δεν μίλησαν ποτέ ξανά έκτοτε.

Ο πρόεδρος των Ηνωμένων Πολιτειών της Αμερικής Μπαράκ Ομπάμα εξέφρασε επίσης τα συλλυπητήριά του για τον θάνατο του Γκαρσία Μάρκες και σημείωσε πως «το έργο του Γκάμπο θα συνεχίσει» να εμπνέει «τις επόμενες γενιές». «Ο κόσμος έχασε έναν από τους μεγαλύτερους οραματιστές συγγραφείς του — έναν από τους αγαπημένους μου από όταν ήμουν νέος», ανέφερε ο Ομπάμα σε μια ανακοίνωσή του. «Είχα μια φορά το προνόμιο να συναντηθώ μαζί του στο Μεξικό, όπου μου χάρισε ένα βιβλίο με αφιέρωση που κρατάω ευλαβικά ως και σήμερα», πρόσθεσε ο Ομπάμα.

Ο πρώην πρόεδρος των ΗΠΑ Μπιλ Κλίντον, προσωπικός φίλος του Γκαρσία Μάρκες, εξέφρασε επίσης τα συλλυπητήριά του για το θάνατο του λογοτέχνη. «Από τότε που διάβασα τα Εκατό Χρόνια Μοναξιά πριν από 40 χρόνια και πλέον, πάντα μου προκαλούσαν θαυμασμό τα μοναδικά του δώρα της φαντασίας, της σαφήνειας της σκέψης, της συναισθηματικής εντιμότητας. Απαθανάτισε τον πόνο και τη χαρά της ανθρωπότητας σε σκηνικά τόσο πραγματικά όσο και μαγικά», ανέφερε ο Κλίντον σε μια ανακοίνωσή του. «Με τιμούσε να είμαι φίλος του και να γνωρίζω τη μεγάλη του καρδιά και το λαμπρό του μυαλό για πάνω από 20 χρόνια. Τα συλλυπητήριά μου στη (σ.σ. σύζυγό του) Μερσέδες, στην οικογένειά του, στους φίλους και στους θαυμαστές του σε όλο τον κόσμο».

Ο Γκαρσία Μάρκες γιόρτασε τα 87α γενέθλιά του την 6η Μαρτίου. Είχε βγει από το σπίτι του για λίγο και είχε χαιρετίσει τους φωτογράφους και τους δημοσιογράφους που βρίσκονταν έξω από αυτό, χωρίς να τους κάνει πάντως δηλώσεις.

 

Η ΑΥΓΗ

Η παγκόσμια λογοτεχνία πενθεί τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

  • 18.04.2014

Η παγκόσμια λογοτεχνία πενθεί τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες

"Μην κλαις επειδή τελείωσε. Χαμογέλα επειδή συνέβη" συνήθιζε να λέει. Όμως εκατομμύρια αναγνώστες του Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες έχουν έναν και μόνο λόγο να κλαίνε σήμερα. Ο νομπελίστας Κολομβιανός συγγραφέας έφυγε από τη ζωή. Έχουν όμως και πολλούς λόγους να χαμογελούν. Άφησε έργο πολύτιμο πίσω του, με κορυφαίο το εμβληματικό "Εκατό Χρόνια Μοναξιά" στο οποίο  ξετυλίγοντας το έπος των Μπουενδία που ζουν στην πόλη – ουτοπία του Μακόντο, φιλοτέχνησε την "τοιχογραφία" μιας εποχής και τη μοίρα ενός λαού. Αφηγήθηκε τη συχνά βίαιη ιστορία της πατρίδας του της Κολομβίας, αλλά και της Λατινικής Αμερικής και τελικά της ανθρωπότητας ολόκληρης.

Σαρανταεπτά χρόνια μετά την έκδοση του εμβληματικού "Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιά" και 32 μετά την απονομή του Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας, ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες έκλεισε τα μάτια. Χτυπημένος από τον καρκίνο στους λεμφαδένες, τα τελευταία χρόνια, ιδίως μετά την κυκλοφορία του τελευταίου του βιβλίου "Οι Θλιμμένες πουτάνες της ζωής μου" (2004) ζούσε αποτραβηγμένος.

Ο Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες γεννήθηκε το 1928 στην Αρακατάκα, ένα παραλιακό χωριό της Κολομβίας, όπου μεγάλωσε κοντά στους παππούδες του από τη μεριά της μητέρας του.

Το 1947 άρχισε στο Πανεπιστήμιο της Μπογκοτά τις σπουδές του στα νομικά και τις πολιτικές επιστήμες και τον ίδιο χρόνο η εφημερίδα Ελ Εσπεκταδόρ δημοσίευσε το πρώτο διήγημά του με τίτλο Η Τρίτη Παραίτηση. Το 1948 μετακόμισε στην Καρταχένα των Δυτικών Ινδιών κι εκεί άρχισε να εργάζεται ως δημοσιογράφος στην εφημερίδα Ελ Ουνιβερσάλ. Στη συνέχεια συνεργάστηκε με πολλά περιοδικά και εφημερίδες στην Αμερική και την Ευρώπη.

Το πρώτο μυθιστόρημά του, Τα Νεκρά Φύλλα, εκδόθηκε το 1955 και ακολούθησαν τα έργαΚακιά Ωρα, Ο Συνταγματάρχης δεν Εχει Κανέναν να του Γράψει και Η Κηδεία της Μεγάλης Μάμα.

Το 1967 κυκλοφόρησε το έργο Εκατό Χρόνια Μοναξιά, μυθιστόρημα που αποκόμισε αμέσως τις θετικότερες κριτικές και κέρδισε το αναγνωστικό κοινό, καθιερώνοντας έτσι τον Γκαμπριέλ Γκαρσία Μάρκες ως έναν από τους μεγαλύτερους συγγραφείς της εποχής μας.

Στο τεράστιο έργο του, που το 1982 του χάρισε το Βραβείο Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας, συμπεριλαμβάνονται και τα μυθιστορήματα: "Το Φθινόπωρο του Πατριάρχη", "Χρονικόν Ενός Προαναγγελθέντος Θανάτου", "Ο Ερωτας στα Χρόνια της Χολέρας", "Δώδεκα Διηγήματα Περιπλανώμενα" "Περί Ερωτος και Αλλων Δαιμονίων", "Οι θλιμμένες πουτάνες της ζωής μου", "Το φως είναι σαν το νερό", "Το ευτυχισμένο καλοκαίρι της κυρίας Φορμπς", "Η είδηση μιας απαγωγής", "Ο στρατηγός μες στο λαβύρινθό του", "Η περιπέτεια του Μιγκέλ Λιττίν",  "Ο συνταγματάρχης δεν έχει κανέναν να του γράψει", "Κακιά ώρα", "Εκατό χρόνια μοναξιά" κ.α.Επίσης, έχει γράψει άρθρα σε περιοδικά, βιβλία με διηγήματα και κινηματογραφικά σενάρια.

 

The Guardian

Gabriel García Márquez, Nobel laureate writer, dies aged 87

Colombian author became standard-bearer for Latin American letters after success of One Hundred Years of Solitude
Obituary: catalyst of boom in Latin American literature
Gabriel García Márquez – a life in pictures
From the archive: 1970 review of One Hundred Years of Solitude

Gabriel García Márquez in Monterrey in 2007
Gabriel García Márquez

Gabriel García Márquez in Monterrey in 2007. Photograph: Tomas Bravo/Reuters

The Colombian Nobel laureate Gabriel García Márquez, who unleashed the worldwide boom in Spanish language literature and magical realism with his novel One Hundred Years of Solitude, died at the age of 87. He had been admitted to hospital in Mexico City on 3 April with pneumonia.

Matching commercial success with critical acclaim, García Márquez became a standard-bearer for Latin American letters, establishing a route for negotiations between guerillas and the Colombian government, building a friendship with Fidel Castro and maintaining a feud with fellow literature laureate Mario Vargas Llosa that lasted more than 30 years.

Barack Obama said the world had lost "one of its greatest visionary writers", adding that he cherished an inscribed copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude, presented to him by the author on a visit to Mexico. "I offer my thoughts to his family and friends, whom I hope take solace in the fact that Gabo’s work will live on for generations to come."

Colombian president Juan Manuel Santos said yesterday via Twitter: "A thousand years of solitude and sadness at the death of the greatest Colombian of all time. Solidarity and condolences to his wife and family … Such giants never die."

Gabriel García Márquez, Nobel laureate writer, dies aged 87

García Márquez in Mexico City in March. Photograph: Edgard Garrido/Reuters

Journalists gathered outside García Márquez’s house in Mexico City in the hope that one of the family members who was reportedly at his side would emerge.

Mexican president Enrique Peña Nieto expressed sadness at the death of "one of the greatest writers of our time," in the name of Mexico, the novelist’s adopted home. Chilean writer Luis Sepúlveda was quoted by the Mexican newspaper Reforma as saying that he was "the most important writer in Spanish of the 20th century", central to the Latin American literary boom that "revolutionised everything: the imagination, the way of telling a story, and the literary universe".

The Colombian singer Shakira wrote: "We will remember your life, dear Gabo, like a unique and unrepeatable gift, and the most original of stories."

Born in a small town near the northern coast ofColombia on 6 March 1927, García Márquez was raised by his grandparents for the first nine years of his life and began working as a journalist while studying law in Bogotá.

A series of articles relating the ordeal of a Colombian sailor sparked controversy and saw him travel to Europe as a foreign correspondent in 1955, the year in which he published his first work of fiction, the short novel Leaf Storm. Short stories and novellas with the realism of Hemingway as their inspiration followed, but after the publication of The Evil Hour in 1962 García Márquez found himself at an impasse.

Speaking to the Paris Review in 1981 he explained how he decided his writings about his childhood were "more political" than the "journalistic literature" he had been engaged with. He wanted to return to his childhood and the imaginary village of Macondo he had created in Leaf Storm, but there was "always something missing". After five years he hit upon the "right tone", a style "based on the way my grandmother used to tell her stories".

"She told things that sounded supernatural and fantastic, but she told them with complete naturalness," García Márquez said. "When I finally discovered the tone I had to use, I sat down for 18 months and worked every day."

Gabriel Garcia Marquez with a copy of his book One Hundred Years of Solitude, 1975

García Márquez with a copy of his book One Hundred Years of Solitude in 1975. Isabel Steva Hernandez (Colita)/Corbis

Right from the elliptical opening sentence – which finds Colonel Aureliano Buendía facing a firing squad and remembering the "distant afternoon" many years before when "his father took him to discover ice" – One Hundred Years of Solitude weaves together the misfortunes of a family over seven generations. García Márquez tells the story of a doomed city of mirrors founded in the depths of the Colombian jungle with the "brick face" his grandmother used to tell ghost stories, folk tales and supernatural legends.

The novel was an instant bestseller, with the first edition of 8,000 copies selling out within a week of its publication in 1967. Hailed by the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda as "perhaps the greatest revelation in the Spanish language since Don Quixote of Cervantes", One Hundred Years of Solitude went on to win literary prizes in Italy, France, Venezuela and beyond, appearing in more than 30 languages and selling more than 30m copies around the world. García Márquez forged friendships with writers such as Carlos Fuentes, Julio Cortazar and Vargas Llosa – a friendship that ended in the 1970s after Vargas Llosa floored the Colombian with a punch outside a Mexico City cinema.

The Autumn of the Patriarch, which the author called a "poem on the solitude of power", followed in 1975. García Márquez assembled this story of the tyrannical leader of an unnamed Caribbean nation from a collage of dictators such as Franco, Perón, and Pinilla, and continued to draw inspiration from Latin America’s history of conflict with a novella inspired by the murder of a wealthy Colombian, The Chronicle of a Death Foretold, published in 1981.

A year later he was awarded the Nobel prize for literature, the Swedish Academy hailing fiction "in which the fantastic and the realistic are combined in a richly composed world of imagination, reflecting a continent’s life and conflicts". Speaking at the ceremony in Stockholm, he painted a picture of a continent filled with "immeasurable violence and pain" that "nourishes a source of insatiable creativity, full of sorrow and beauty".

"Poets and beggars, musicians and prophets, warriors and scoundrels, all creatures of that unbridled reality, we have had to ask but little of imagination," he said, "for our crucial problem has been a lack of conventional means to render our lives believable."

Undated photo of Gabriel García Márquez

An undated photo of García Márquez. Photograph: AP

The lives García Márquez next made "believable" were those of his parents, whose extended courtship was rendered into Love in the Time of Cholera, first published in 1985. The novel tells how a secret relationship between Florentino Arizo and Fermina Daza is thwarted by Fermina’s marriage to a doctor trying to eradicate cholera, only to be rekindled more than 60 years later.

A 1989 account of Simón Bolívar’s final months, The General in his Labyrinth, blended fact and fiction, but García Márquez never left journalism behind, arguing that it kept him "in contact with the real world". Clandestine in Chile, published in 1986, was an account of the Chilean filmmaker Miguel Littín, who returned to his homeland in secret to make a documentary about life under General Augusto Pinochet. News of a Kidnapping explored how prominent figures in Colombian society were snatched and imprisoned by Pablo Escobar’s Medellín drug cartel.

He continued to write, publishing a memoir of his early life in 2002 and a novella that chronicles an old man’s passion for an adolescent girl in 2004, but never regained the heights of his earlier masterpieces. His brother Jaime García Márquez revealed in 2012 that the writer was suffering from dementia after undergoing chemotherapy for lymphatic cancer first diagnosed in 1999.

Asked in 1981 about his ambitions as a writer he suggested that it would be a "catastrophe" to be awarded the Nobel prize, arguing that writers struggle with fame, which "invades your private life" and "tends to isolate you from the real world".

"I don’t really like to say this because it never sounds sincere," he continued, "but I would really have liked for my books to have been published after my death, so I wouldn’t have to go through all this business of fame and being a great writer."

 

 

Gabriel García Márquez obituary

Colombian Nobel laureate who helped to launch boom in Latin American literature with novel One Hundred Years of Solitude

Gabriel García Márquez

Gabriel García Márquez in 1984. Photograph: Ben Martin/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images

Few writers have produced novels that are acknowledged as masterpieces not only in their own countries but all around the world. Fewer still can be said to have written books that have changed the whole course of literature in their language. But the Colombian writerGabriel García Márquez, who has died at the age of 87 after suffering from Alzheimer’s disease achieved just that, especially thanks to his novel One Hundred Years of Solitude.

Since its publication in 1967, more than 25m copies of the book have been sold in Spanish and other languages. For at least a generation the book firmly stamped Latin American literature as the domain of "magical realism".

Born in the small town of Aracataca, close to the Caribbean coast ofColombia, García Márquez (or "Gabo" as he was often affectionately nicknamed) always identified himself with the cultural mix of Spanish, black and indigenous traditions that continue to flourish there. Although later in life he lived in Paris, Mexico and elsewhere, his books returned constantly to this torrid coastal region, where the power of nature and myth still predominate over the restraints of cold reason.

This sense of identification with the Caribbean coast was strengthened by the fact that the young García Márquez was forced to leave it when he was eight, so marking out the period of his early childhood as the source of not only his most heartfelt memories, but as the wellspring for his literature. García Márquez has often recalled how, with his father absent as a telegraph operator, he was brought up by a grandfather who told him tales of his heroic deeds in Colombia’s civil wars of the 19th century, and a grandmother whose every move was ruled by superstition. This combination of the ordinary and the extraordinary was the world that later resurfaced to such telling effect in One Hundred Years of Solitude and many other novels.

García Márquez’s subsequent education took place in the capital, Bogotá, in the other, Andean part of Colombia. He always spoke of these years as of a cold, lonely exile. Forced to study law, he sought consolation in literature. At first, like many Colombians, he imagined himself a poet, until one day he discovered Franz Kafka and suddenly saw that everything was possible for the modern imaginative writer. Spurred on in this way, at the age of 20 he abandoned his law studies and from then on devoted himself to writing.

In the early 1950s he worked during the daytime as a newspaper reporter, first back on the coast and later in Bogotá on the newspaper El Espectador. His account of what had happened during the shipwreck of a Colombian naval vessel brought him renown as a journalist, but also got him into trouble with the authorities. This led to the start of a peripatetic and often wretchedly poor existence that lasted almost a decade. All the while, though, he was using the nights and any spare time to write fictionas well, and his first short novel, Leafstorm, was published in 1955.

Journalism was to remain a passion throughout his life: time and again his fictional stories have their basis in tales he heard as a young journalist, as he explains for example in the introduction to the 1994 novel Of Love and Other Demons. At the same time, whatever fantastic elements are to be found in his novels and short stories, García Márquez learned from journalism the craft of story-telling, showing himself to be an astounding judge of pace, surprise, and structure. He was also immensely interested in the cinema. In Rome in the 1950s he studied at the Experimental Film School, and while living in Mexico in the 1960s wrote several film scripts. He also dabbled in television soap operas, arguing that this was the way to reach the broadest possible audience and satisfy their need for narrative. In the early 1980s he helped found an International Film School near the Cuban capital of Havana. In 1994, he used some of the huge royalties his works had brought him to set up a school of journalism back on the Colombian Caribbean coast, at Cartagena de Indias.

But it is as a writer of fiction, enjoyed by everyone from untutored readers to academics in universities around the world, that García Márquez will be remembered. By the mid-1960s, he had published three novels that enjoyed reasonable critical acclaim in Latin America, but neither huge commercial nor international success. His fourth novel, One Hundred Years of Solitude, first published not in Colombia but in Argentina, was to change all that. It tells the story of succeeding generations of the archetypal Buendía family and the amazing events that befall the isolated town of Macondo, in which fantasy and fact constantly intertwine to produce their own brand of magical logic. The novel has not only proved immediately accessible to readers everywhere, but has influenced writers of many nationalities, from Isabel Allende to Salman Rushdie. Although the novel was not the first example of magical realism produced in Latin America, it helped launch what became known as the boom in Latin American literature, which helped many young and talented writers find a new international audience for their often startlingly original work.

As with many other descriptions of literary schools, magical realism eventually came to seem almost as much a curse as a blessing. García Márquez professed himself amazed at the success One Hundred Years of Solitude enjoyed, and declared that he considered his masterly study of Latin American tyranny in Autumn of the Patriarch (1975) to be a more complete work of art. Almost as powerful were the classical simplicity of Chronicle of a Death Foretold (1981), the tender exploration of the impossibilities of love in Love in the Time of Cholera (1985), or the study of the collapse of utopian dreams in The General in His Labyrinth (1994).

Those dreams were prominent in García Márquez’s speech when he was awarded the Nobel prize for literature in 1982. In it, he made a passionate appeal for European understanding of the tribulations of his own continent, concluding that "tellers of tales who, like me, are capable of believing anything, feel entitled to believe that it is not yet too late to undertake the creation of a minor utopia: a new and limitless utopia wherein no one can decide for others how they are to die, where love can really be true and happiness possible, where the lineal generations of one hundred years of solitude will have at last and forever a second chance on earth".

García Márquez was also adamant that the writer had a public duty to speak out on political issues. His own views were strongly leftwing, opposed to what he saw as imperialism, particularly with regard to the domination of Latin America by the US. This distrust was reciprocated, and for many years, despite being one of the best-known writers among the reading public, he was denied access to the United States.

His socialist views led him to consistently back the Castro regime in Cuba, and he was a close personal friend of Fidel Castro. His faithfulness to the Cuban revolution led to him falling out with many of his own generation of Latin American writers, who became increasingly critical of the lack of intellectual freedom on the island. In response, García Márquez argued that he used his influence on the Cuban leader to secure the release of a large number of writers and other political prisoners from the island.

García Márquez was also passionately interested in the often tragic political situation of his own country. One of his early books In Evil Hour (1962) looks at the period of political violence in the 1950s, which caused over 100,000 deaths, and both in his fiction and his other writing he constantly looked for an end to the senseless killing.

After his period in exile during the 1950s, the violence of the 1970s also led him to spend most of his time outside the country. He helped founded a leftwing magazine, Alternativa, which promoted broadly socialist ideas, but never became directly involved in the political struggle. In the 1990s, as one of the few personalities his fellow Colombians actually trusted, he was several times mentioned as a possible presidential candidate, but always refused to lend himself to any campaign. Perhaps his most remarkable book about the political situation in Colombia was Noticia de un Secuestro (News of a Kidnapping, 1996) in which he describes in meticulous but passionate detail the kidnapping of 10 people by the drugs boss Pablo Escobar, and the complicated and only partly successful negotiations for their release. Few books reveal so chillingly the ability of the drugs mafia to penetrate to the very heart of society and pervert all its values.

His leftwing beliefs also led García Márquez to oppose military rule in the rest of Latin America. In 1975 he even claimed he would not write again until the Chilean dictator General Augusto Pinochet was removed from power (though he could not keep his word, and returned to publishing in 1981, with Chronicle of a Death Foretold). He also took a strongly anti-British line over the struggle for sovereignty in the Falkland islands in 1982.

Always outspoken in his public comments and in his journalism, García Márquez could also be immensely generous and warm in his private life. He was married to Mercedes, his childhood sweetheart, for over 40 years, and had two sons, Rodrigo and Gonzalo. He was famously loyal to his friends, but disdainful of all those whom he thought of as only being attracted to him because of his fame. Indeed, he often spoke of the difficulties and loneliness that international success had brought him, and sought whenever possible to keep his private world apart from it.

In 1999 the writer was diagnosed with lymphoma, or cancer of the immune system. The illness was to cloud his final years, requiring constant treatment. At times he was so ill that the international rumour mill not only proclaimed him to be at death’s door several times, but apocryphal tales of his death-bed conversion to Catholicism circulated widely. Despite these rumours, he embarked on an ambitious autobiography.

Originally intended to be in three volumes, only the first, Vivir para Contarla (Living To Tell the Tale, 2002) came out, telling the story of his life up to his marriage with Mercedes. He also published Memorias de Mis Putas Tristes (Memories of My Melancholy Whores, 2004), but the very mixed reaction to his tale of a 90-year old and his liaison with a teenage prostitute convinced him that his writing days were over.

García Márquez’s intense enjoyment of life shines through all his work, sometimes even seeming to be at variance with what is apparently its underlying message. As the title of his greatest novel tells us, its theme is the solitude and abandonment of Macondo, and yet the sheer appetite for life revealed in the characters and the storytelling itself speak instead of a huge wonder and enjoyment of existence. The millions of readers of García Márquez’s books throughout the world appreciated above all that he wrote about immediately accessible themes such as love, friendship and death in a way that was new and yet plainly part of the great novel tradition. To many Latin Americans, García Márquez’s work had the added importance of showing them that even if an author is born far from the centres of political and cultural power the sheer force of imagination can succeed in creating a world that will be magically recognised everywhere.

He is survived by a wife, Mercedes Barcha Pardo, and two sons, Rodrigo and Gonzalo.

Nick Caistor

Katharine Viner writes: Before the world discovered his prodigious imagination, Gabriel García Márquez was a brilliant journalist with a strong commitment to his first profession. He founded his Fundacion para un Nuevo Periodismo Iberoamericano in Cartagena on the Colombian coast to promote South American journalists, and it was at the foundation’s 1999 conference on weekend journalism that I met Gabo, as he insisted we call him; as editor of Guardian Weekend magazine, I was the guest lecturer from Britain.

He was fabulous company: both aware of his stature and funny, gossipy and generous. He told wonderful stories about his great friend Castro – how Fidel refused to have US satellite TV in his home, but would go round to Gabo’s Cuban house to watch it – mostly for the sport.

Gabo had strong views on what American culture was doing to the world, and especially to love, telling me, "What is killing relationships is dialogue. If you don’t communicate then neither of you is forced to lie." But what was most charming about being in Gabo’s company was how he engaged with you with a generosity rare among many lesser figures.

The fact of my vegetarianism seemed to throw him monumentally: "It cannot be true!" he said. "You lack the forlorn look of vegetarians!" We had a small row about this. And then another about a few other things (a photograph of us arguing sits proudly on my mother’s wall). "You are a dictator!" he said. "I’m horrified," I replied. "No, it is a compliment. Because I am a dictator as well."

He made the week in Cartagena one of the most thrilling of my life; but it didn’t end there. A few days after I got home, a little jaded at my desk, he rang me. "You are a journalist. You are the editor of a fine magazine. It is the finest job in the world!" he said. "I am calling to tell you that we love you, and we miss you, and the places where you went dancing in Cartagena are calling out for you every day." He was a man who knew how to make you feel good; and every kindness sounded like poetry.

• Gabriel García Márquez, writer, born 6 March 1927; died 17 April 2014

 

 

The New York Times

 

Entwining Tales of Time, Memory and Love

By MICHIKO KAKUTANIAPRIL 17, 2014

Gabriel García Márquez, foreground, with Colombian journalist José Salgar in 2003. As a writer, Mr. García Márquez found the familiar in the fantastic.CreditAndres Reyes/FNPI, via Associated Press

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      The Magus of magical realism, Gabriel García Márquez — who died on Thursday at his home in Mexico City, at the age of 87 — used his fecund imagination and exuberant sleight of hand to conjure the miraculous in his fiction: plagues of insomnia and forgetfulness, a cluster of magical grapes containing the secret of death, an all-night rain of yellow blossoms, a swamp of lilies oozing blood, a Spanish galleon marooned in a Latin American jungle, cattle born bearing the brand of their owner.

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    Such images were not simply tokens of his endlessly inventive mind, but testaments to his all-embracing artistic vision, which recognized the extraordinary in the mundane, the familiar in the fantastic. In novels like “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” “The Autumn of the Patriarch” and “Love in the Time of Cholera,” Mr. García Márquez mythologized the history of an entire continent, while at the same time creating a Rabelaisian portrait of the human condition as a febrile dream in which love and suffering and redemption endlessly cycle back on themselves on a Möbius strip in time.

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    A García Márquez Sampler

    One Hundred Years of Solitude

    Translated by Gregory Rabassa, Harper & Row (1970)

    “The men on the expedition felt overwhelmed by their most ancient memories in that paradise of dampness and silence, going back to before original sin, as their boots sank into pools of steaming oil and their machetes destroyed bloody lilies and golden salamanders. For a week, almost without speaking, they went ahead like sleepwalkers through a universe of grief, lighted only by the tenuous reflection of luminous insects, and their lungs were overwhelmed by a suffocating smell of blood.”

    Love in the Time of Cholera

    Translated by Edith Grossman, Alfred A. Knopf (1988)

    “Contrary to what the Captain and Zenaida supposed, they no longer felt like newlyweds, and even less like belated lovers. It was if they had leapt over the arduous calvary of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion; beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.”

    Of Love and Other Demons

    Translated by Edith Grossman, Alfred A. Knopf (1995)

    “The stone shattered at the first blow of a pickax and a stream of living hair the intense color of copper spilled out of the crypt. The foreman, with the help of the laborers, attempted to uncover all the hair, and the more of it they brought out, the longer and more abundant it seemed, until at last the final strands appeared still attached to the skull of a young girl….Spread out on the floor, the splendid hair measured 22 meters, 11 centimeters.”

    Transactions between the real and surreal, the ordinary and the fabulous, of course, are a signature device of the magical realism that flourished in the second half of the 20th century in places like Latin America, where the horrors and dislocations of history frequently exceeded the reach of logic, reason and conventional narrative techniques. What he called the “outsized reality” of Latin America’s history — including the period of civil strife in Colombia known as La Violencia, which claimed the lives of as many as 300,000 during the late 1940s and ’50s — demanded a means of expression beyond the rationalities of old-fashioned narrative realism.

    As Mr. García Márquez’s memoir “Living to Tell the Tale” made clear, however, his fascination with the phantasmagorical was as rooted in his own childhood and family history as it was in the civil wars and political upheavals of his country. His grandfather painted the walls of his workshop white so that the young boy, nicknamed Gabo, would have an inviting surface on which to draw and fantasize; his grandmother spoke of the visions she experienced everyday — the rocking chair that rocked alone, “the scent of jasmines from the garden” that “was like an invisible ghost.”

    His childhood home was in the remote town of Aracataca, a Wild West sort of place, subject to dry hurricanes, killing droughts, sudden floods, plagues of locusts and “a leaf storm” of fortune hunters, drawn by the so-called banana fever fomented there by the arrival of the United Fruit Company. Aracataca would provide the seeds for the imaginary town of Macondo in “Solitude,” just as Mr. García Márquez’s own sprawling family would help inspire the story of the prolific and amazing Buendía clan memorialized with such ardor in that novel. Macondo is a place where the miraculous and the monstrous are equally part of daily life, a place where the boundaries between reality and dreams are blurred. It is, at once, a state of mind, a mythologized version of Latin America and a reimagining of the author’s boyhood town through the prism of memory and nostalgia.

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    For that matter, the magic in Mr. García Márquez’s work always remained grounded in a carefully observed reality — a skill honed by his early years as a reporter. From that start, Mr. García Márquez slowly developed his own distinctive voice — a voice with the sinuous rhythms of Faulkner and Joyce, the metaphorical reach of Kafka, the dreamlike imagery of Borges. In later years, the fevered flights of fantasy that distinguished “Solitude” and “Patriarch” would give way to a somewhat more muted sorcery, an appreciation — demonstrated in works like “Love in the Time of Cholera” and “Of Love and Other Demons” — of the everyday, combined with a recognition that the extremes of human love and suffering could be found in the seemingly most ordinary of lives.

    “Love in the Time of Cholera” was a sort of Proustian meditation on time and an anatomy of love in all its forms — giddy adolescent love, mature love, romantic love, sexual love, spiritual love, even love so virulent it resembles cholera in its capacity to inflict pain. At the same time, it was also a kind of tribute to his own parents’ courtship and marriage.

    The personal gave way to the historical in some novels that dealt on an epic level with the tortuous history of Latin America. “The Autumn of the Patriarch” created a hallucinatory portrait of a tyrant who seems like a mythic composite of every dictator to strong-arm his way to power on that continent: a once-feted hero, who sells out his country to the gringos, murders his opponents, rewards himself with medals, unimaginable wealth and the modest title “General of the Universe,” and who ends up completely isolated, discovered dead in his palace, pecked at by vultures.

    As for “The General in His Labyrinth,” it performed a kind of free-form improvisation on the life of the 19th-century revolutionary Simón Bolívar, who becomes in Mr. García Márquez’s telling a close relative of many of his fictional heroes — a spoiled dreamer, torn between martyrdom and hedonism, extravagant ambitions and crashing disillusion.

    In the end, it’s not politics, but time and memory and love that stand at the heart of Mr. García Márquez’s work. How the histories of continents and nations and families often loop back on themselves; how time past shapes time present; how passion can alter the trajectory of a life — these are the melodies that thread their way persistently through his fiction, reverberating in novel after novel, story after story. In later works, like the stories in “Strange Pilgrims” and the novella “Memories of My Melancholy Whores,” Mr. García Márquez wrote about older characters, falling under the shadow of mortality, but then, death had long been a focal point in his work, going back to his early novella “Leaf Storm,” and on through novels like “The Autumn of the Patriarch.”

    Mr. García Márquez once wrote that, as a young man, he believed his bad luck with women and money was “congenital and irremediable,” but he did not care, “because I believed I did not need good luck to write well,” and “I did not care about glory, or money, or old age, because I was sure I was going to die very young, and in the street.” He learned, in reading the works of the masters like Faulkner and Joyce, he said, that “it was not necessary to demonstrate facts,” that it “was enough for the author to have written something for it to be true, with no proofs other than the power of his talent and the authority of his voice.”

     

    Gabriel García Márquez, Conjurer of Literary Magic, Dies at 87

    By JONATHAN KANDELLAPRIL 17, 2014

       

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      Gabriel García Márquez, the Colombian novelist whose “One Hundred Years of Solitude” established him as a giant of 20th-century literature, died on Thursday at his home in Mexico City. He was 87.

      Cristóbal Pera, his former editor at Random House, confirmed the death. Mr. García Márquez learned he had lymphatic cancer in 1999, and a brother said in 2012 that he had developed senile dementia.

      Mr. García Márquez, who received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1982, wrote fiction rooted in a mythical Latin American landscape of his own creation, but his appeal was universal. His books were translated into dozens of languages. He was among a select roster of canonical writers — Dickens, Tolstoy and Hemingway among them — who were embraced both by critics and by a mass audience.

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      “Each new work of his is received by expectant critics and readers as an event of world importance,” the Swedish Academy of Letters said in awarding him the Nobel.

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      Gabriel García Márquez, Novelist and Exponent of Magical Realism
      Gabriel García Márquez, Novelist and Exponent of Magical Realism

      CreditUlf Andersen/Getty Images

      Mr. García Márquez was a master of the literary genre known as magical realism, in which the miraculous and the real converge. In his novels and stories, storms rage for years, flowers drift from the skies, tyrants survive for centuries, priests levitate and corpses fail to decompose. And, more plausibly, lovers rekindle their passion after a half-century apart.

      Magical realism, he said, sprang from Latin America’s history of vicious dictators and romantic revolutionaries, of long years of hunger, illness and violence. In accepting his Nobel, Mr. García Márquez said: “Poets and beggars, musicians and prophets, warriors and scoundrels, all creatures of that unbridled reality, we have had to ask but little of imagination. For our crucial problem has been a lack of conventional means to render our lives believable.”

      Like many Latin American intellectuals and artists, Mr. García Márquez felt impelled to speak out on the political issues of his day. He viewed the world from a left-wing perspective, bitterly opposing Gen. Augusto Pinochet, the right-wing Chilean dictator, and unswervingly supporting Fidel Castro in Cuba. Mr. Castro became such a close friend that Mr. García Márquez showed him drafts of his unpublished books.

      No draft had more impact than the one for “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” Mr. García Márquez’s editor began reading it at home one rainy day, and as he read page after page by this unknown Colombian author, his excitement grew. Soon he called the Argentine novelist Tomás Eloy Martínez and summoned him urgently to the home.

      Mr. Eloy Martinez remembered entering the foyer with wet shoes and encountering pages strewn across the floor by the editor in his eagerness to read through the work. They were the first pages of a book that in 1967 would vault Mr. García Márquez onto the world stage. He later authorized an English translation, by Gregory Rabassa. In Spanish or English, readers were tantalized from its opening sentences:

      “Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Col. Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. At that time Macondo was a village of 20 adobe houses built on the bank of a river of clear water that ran along a bed of polished stones, which were white and enormous, like prehistoric eggs. The world was so recent that many things lacked names, and in order to indicate them it was necessary to point.”

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      “One Hundred Years of Solitude” would sell tens of millions of copies. The Chilean poet Pablo Neruda called it “the greatest revelation in the Spanish language since ‘Don Quixote.’ ” The novelist William Kennedy hailed it as “the first piece of literature since the Book of Genesis that should be required reading for the entire human race.”

      Mr. García Márquez was rattled by the praise. He grew to hate “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” he said in interviews, because he feared his subsequent work would not measure up to it in readers’ eyes. He need not have worried. Almost all his 15 other novels and short-story collections were lionized by critics and devoured by readers.

      Lived With His Grandparents

      Gabriel García Márquez was born in Aracataca, a small town near Colombia’s Caribbean coast, on March 6, 1927, the eldest child of Luisa Santiaga Márquez and Gabriel Elijio García. His father, a postal clerk, telegraph operator and itinerant pharmacist, could barely support his wife and 12 children; Gabriel, the eldest, spent his early childhood living in the large, ramshackle house of his maternal grandparents. The house influenced his writing; it seemed inhabited, he said, by the ghosts his grandmother conjured in the stories she told.

      His maternal grandfather, Nicolás Márquez Mejía, a retired army colonel, was also an influence — “the most important figure of my life,” Mr. García Márquez said. The grandfather bore a marked resemblance to Colonel Buendía, the protagonist of “One Hundred Years of Solitude,” and the book’s mythical village of Macondo draws heavily on Aracataca.

      In his 2002 memoir, “Living to Tell the Tale,” Mr. García Márquez recalled a river trip back to Aracataca in 1950, his first trip there since childhood.

      “The first thing that struck me,” he wrote, “was the silence. A material silence I could have identified blindfolded among all the silences in the world. The reverberation of the heat was so intense that you seemed to be looking at everything through undulating glass. As far as the eye could see there was no recollection of human life, nothing that was not covered by a faint sprinkling of burning dust.”

      Much of his fiction unfolds in or near Macondo, just as William Faulkner, whom he admired, invented Yoknapatawpha County as the Mississippi setting for some of his own novels.

      Mr. García Márquez moved to Bogotá as a teenager. He studied law there but never received a degree; he turned instead to journalism. The late 1940s and early ’50s in Colombia were a period of civil strife known as La Violencia. The ideological causes were nebulous, but the savagery was stark, as many as 300,000 deaths. La Violencia would become the background for several of his novels.

      Mr. García Márquez eked out a living writing for newspapers in Cartagena and then Barranquilla, where he lived in the garret of a brothel and saw a future in literature. “It was a bohemian life: finish at the paper at 1 in the morning, then write a poem or a short story until about 3, then go out to have a beer,” he said in an interview in 1996. “When you went home at dawn, ladies who were going to Mass would cross to the other side of the street for fear that you were either drunk or intending to mug or rape them.”

      He read intensely — the Americans Hemingway, Faulkner, Twain and Melville; the Europeans Dickens, Tolstoy, Proust, Kafka and Virginia Woolf.

      “I cannot imagine how anyone could even think of writing a novel without having at least a vague of idea of the 10,000 years of literature that have gone before,” Mr. García Márquez said. But, he added, “I’ve never tried to imitate authors I’ve admired. On the contrary, I’ve done all I could not to imitate them.”

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      As a journalist he scored a scoop when he interviewed a sailor who had been portrayed by the Colombian government as the heroic survivor of a navy destroyer lost at sea. The sailor admitted to him that the ship had been carrying a heavy load of contraband household goods, which unloosed during a storm and caused the ship to list enough to sink. His report, in 1955, infuriated Gen. Gustavo Rojas Pinilla, the country’s dictator, and Mr. García Márquez fled to Europe. He spent two years there as a foreign correspondent.

      Unimpressed by Europe

      Mr. García Márquez was less impressed by Western Europe than many Latin American writers, who looked to the Old World as their cultural fountainhead. His dispatches often reflected his belief that Europeans were patronizing toward Latin America even though their own societies were in decline.

      He echoed these convictions in his Nobel address. Europeans, he said, “insist on measuring us with the yardstick that they use for themselves, forgetting that the ravages of life are not the same for all, and that the quest for our own identity is just as arduous and bloody for us as it was for them.”

      Mr. García Márquez lost his job when his newspaper was shut down by the Rojas Pinilla regime. Stranded in Paris, he scavenged and sold bottles to survive, but he managed to begin a short novel, “In Evil Hour.”

      While working on that book he took time off in 1957 to complete another short novel, “No One Writes to the Colonel,” about an impoverished retired army officer, not unlike the author’s grandfather, who waits endlessly for a letter replying to his requests for a military pension. It was published to acclaim four years later. (“In Evil Hour” was also published in the early 1960s.)

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      A García Márquez Sampler

      One Hundred Years of Solitude

      Translated by Gregory Rabassa, Harper & Row (1970)

      “The men on the expedition felt overwhelmed by their most ancient memories in that paradise of dampness and silence, going back to before original sin, as their boots sank into pools of steaming oil and their machetes destroyed bloody lilies and golden salamanders. For a week, almost without speaking, they went ahead like sleepwalkers through a universe of grief, lighted only by the tenuous reflection of luminous insects, and their lungs were overwhelmed by a suffocating smell of blood.”

      Love in the Time of Cholera

      Translated by Edith Grossman, Alfred A. Knopf (1988)

      “Contrary to what the Captain and Zenaida supposed, they no longer felt like newlyweds, and even less like belated lovers. It was if they had leapt over the arduous calvary of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion; beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.”

      Of Love and Other Demons

      Translated by Edith Grossman, Alfred A. Knopf (1995)

      “The stone shattered at the first blow of a pickax and a stream of living hair the intense color of copper spilled out of the crypt. The foreman, with the help of the laborers, attempted to uncover all the hair, and the more of it they brought out, the longer and more abundant it seemed, until at last the final strands appeared still attached to the skull of a young girl….Spread out on the floor, the splendid hair measured 22 meters, 11 centimeters.”

      Mr. García Márquez alternated between journalism and fiction in the late 1950s. (A multipart newspaper series on a sailor lost at sea for 10 days was later published in book form as “The Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor.”) While working for newspapers and magazines in Venezuela, he wrote a short-story collection, “Big Mama’s Funeral,” which is set in Macondo and incorporates the kind of magical elements he would master in “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” From 1959 to 1961 he supported the Castro revolution and wrote for Prensa Latina, the official Cuban press agency.

      In 1961 he moved to Mexico City, where he would live on and off for the rest of his life. It was there, in 1965, after a four-year dry spell in which he wrote no fiction, that Mr. García Márquez began “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” The inspiration for it, he said, came to him while he was driving to Acapulco.

      Returning home, he began an almost undistracted 18 months of writing while his wife, Mercedes, looked after the household. “When I was finished writing,” he recalled, “my wife said: ‘Did you really finish it? We owe $12,000.’ ”

      With the book’s publication in 1967, in Buenos Aires, the family never owed a penny again. “One Hundred Years of Solitude” was sold out within days.

      In following the rise and fall of the Buendía family through several generations of war and peace, affluence and poverty, the novel seemed to many critics and readers the defining saga of Latin America’s social and political history.

      Mr. García Márquez made no claim to have invented magical realism; he pointed out that elements of it had appeared before in Latin American literature. But no one before him had used the style with such artistry, exuberance and power. Magical realism would soon inspire writers on both sides of the Atlantic, most notably Isabel Allende in Chile and Salman Rushdie in Britain.

      “Reality is also the myths of the common people,” Mr. García Márquez told an interviewer. “I realized that reality isn’t just the police that kill people, but also everything that forms part of the life of the common people.”

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      In 1973, when General Pinochet overthrew Chile’s democratically elected Marxist president, Salvador Allende, who committed suicide, Mr. García Márquez vowed never to write as long as General Pinochet remained in power.

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      Milton Sarmiento

      3 hours ago

      Gabo will live forever through hIs magical literary masterpieces,Gracias Maestro por tu regalo al mundo.

      Diplobrat

      3 hours ago

      Ciao Gabo. Te quiero mucho.

      Miss Ley

      3 hours ago

      From here to eternal lights, wishing Mr. Gabriel García Marquez, everlasting peace in his state of rest. Joining his many friends and…

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      The Pinochet dictatorship lasted 17 years, but Mr. García Márquez released himself from his vow well before it ended. “I never thought he’d last so long,” he said in a 1997 interview with The Washington Post. “Time convinced me I was wrong. What I was doing was allowing Pinochet to stop me from writing, which means I had submitted to voluntary censorship.”

      In 1975 he published his next novel, “The Autumn of the Patriarch,” about a dictator in a phantasmagorical Latin American state who rules for so many decades that nobody can recall what life was like before him. As he had predicted, some critics faulted the work for not matching the artistry of “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” But others raved about it, and it became a global best seller. He called it his best novel.

      In “Chronicle of a Death Foretold,” published in 1981, Mr. García Márquez used journalistic techniques to tell a story, apparently drawn from a real incident, in which the brothers of a woman who has lost her virginity murder the man responsible, Santiago Nasar. The brothers announce their intention to avenge their family honor, but because of a variety of odd circumstances, Nasar remains unaware of his impending fate.

      “Love in the Time of Cholera,” published in 1985, was Mr. García Márquez’s most romantic novel, the story of the resumption of a passionate relationship between a recently widowed septuagenarian and the lover she had broken with more than 50 years before.

      “The General in His Labyrinth,” published in 1989, combined imagination with historical fact to conjure up the last days of Simón Bolívar, the father of South America’s independence from Spain. The portrait of the aging Bolívar as a flatulent philanderer, abandoned and ridiculed by his onetime followers, aroused controversy on a continent that viewed him as South America’s version of George Washington. But Mr. García Márquez said that his depiction had been drawn from a careful perusal of Bolívar’s personal letters.

      As his fame grew, Mr. García Márquez — or Gabo, as he was called by friends — enjoyed a lifestyle he would have found inconceivable in his struggling youth. He kept homes in Mexico City, Barcelona, Paris and Cartagena, on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Recognizable by his bushy mustache, he dressed fastidiously, preferring a white monotone encompassing linen suits, shirts, shoes and even watchbands.

      Devoted to the Left

      He contributed his prestige, time and money to left-wing causes. He helped finance a Venezuelan political party. He was a strong defender of the Sandinistas, the leftist revolutionaries who took power in Nicaragua.

      For more than three decades the State Department denied Mr. García Márquez a visa to travel in the United States, supposedly because he had been a member of the Colombian Communist Party in the 1950s but almost certainly because of his continuing espousal of left-wing causes and his friendship with Mr. Castro. The ban was rescinded in 1995 after President Bill Clinton invited him to Martha’s Vineyard.

      Mr. García Márquez’s ties to Mr. Castro troubled some intellectuals and human rights advocates. Susan Sontag wrote in the 1980s, “To me it’s scandalous that a writer of such enormous talent be a spokesperson for a government which has put more people in jail (proportionately to its population) than any other government in the world.”

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      He attributed the criticism to what he called Americans’ “almost pornographic obsession with Castro.” But he became sensitive enough about the issue to intercede on behalf of jailed Cuban dissidents.

      After receiving his cancer diagnosis in 1999, Mr. García Márquez devoted most of his subsequent writing to his memoirs. One exception was the novella “Memories of My Melancholy Whores,” about the love affair between a 90-year-old man and a 14-year-old prostitute, published in 2004.

      In July 2012, his brother, Jaime, was quoted as saying that Mr. García Márquez had senile dementia and had stopped writing. Mr. Pera, the author’s editor at Random House Mondadori, said at the time that Mr. García Márquez had been working on a novel, “We’ll See Each Other in August,” but that no publication date had been scheduled. The author seemed disinclined to have it published, Mr. Pera said: “He told me, ‘This far along I don’t need to publish more.’ ”

      Dozens of television and film adaptations were made of Mr. García Márquez’s works, but none achieved the critical or commercial success of his writing, and he declined requests for the movie rights to “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” The novel’s readers, he once said, “always imagine the characters as they want, as their aunt or their grandfather, and the moment you bring that to the screen, the reader’s margin for creativity disappears.”

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      Besides his wife, Mercedes, his survivors include two sons, Rodrigo and Gonzalo.

      Mr. García Márquez attributed his rigorous, disciplined schedule in part to his sons. As a young father he took them to school in the morning and picked them up in the afternoon. During the interval — from 8 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon — he would write.

      “When I finished one book, I wouldn’t write for a while,” he said in 1966. “Then I had to learn how to do it all over again. The arm goes cold; there’s a learning process you have to go through again before you rediscover the warmth that comes over you when you are writing.”

      Randal C. Archibold contributed reporting from Mexico City.

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