Colombian writer Gabriel García Márquez’s novel One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967) has become a confirmed modern classic. Representing a cosmopolitan strain of Latin American literature, it has been considered as the emblematic example of ‘Magical Realism’ and García Márquez (albeit erroneously) as the genres’ father or precursor. His fictional Colombian village of ‘Macondo’ has been studied and taken as a reference in the world of art and literature, eventually transcending this context and becoming a potent political symbol in its own right.
Despite the groundbreaking international attention it received, García Márquez’s novel was far from the first important literary work to emerge from Latin America. Authors such as Mario Vargas Llosa (Peru), Carlos Fuentes (México), Julio Cortázar (Argentine), Jorge Luis Borges (Argentine) and Alejo Carpentier (Cuba) received full recognition from 1960 onwards within the literary world. What was the reason for Gabriel García Márquez’s novel not only succeeding but becoming internationally acclaimed as a classic? This is the question Álvaro Santana-Acuña addresses in his study ‘Ascent to Glory: How One Hundred Years of Solitude was written and became a global classic’. Santana Acuna presents the classic as ‘a social institution’ because it embodies norms, values, beliefs and emotions: ‘the classics are cultural units that transmit ideas and feelings that serve to educate, inspire and antagonize us; make us happy or sad; and, of course, entertain or bore us’ (p. 285). His study of García Márquez’s classic begins with the assertion that there was a very particular set of circumstances that opened the door for One Hundred Years of Solitude to become recognised as an international classic at that moment: The strong emergence of Latin American literature and its endorsement by the industries’ gatekeepers as a solid literary tradition were two key factors. In 1967, when Suramericana published One Hundred Years of Solitude, it was introduced as a paradigmatic example of Latin American literature. This was partly due to the novel’s use of a new literary style; Neo-baroque – a ‘new language’ according to Santana-Acuña – and considered by literary and cultural gatekeepers to be an important expression of cultural identity in the region.
Álvaro Santana-Acuña’s book is an excellent achievement, standing as a testimony to his exhaustive primary archival research. His writing is clear and accurate, and he manages to convey his infectious passion for his subject in concise terms, which are easily grasped by those outside of the academic sphere. To this end, the book is structured with a detailed appendix so it is easily skipped. For the more research-oriented, it includes a helpful sociological consideration of notions such as ‘classic’, ‘universal’ and ‘niche’ as they are applied to One Hundred Years of Solitude.
Throughout his book, Álvaro Santana-Acuña documents how Gabriel García Márquez was inspired by a convergence of very specific social and political elements: The Cuban Revolution was a large influence and he was amongst a group of other writers from the region (e.g. Alejo Carpentier, Carlos Fuentes) who emerged to prominence, consolidating the position of Latin-American literature on the world stage. A key theme for Santana-Acuña is the concept of ‘networked creativity’ which is based on the affirmation that the world of art is always collaborative. Álvaro Santana-Acuña explains that ‘the imagination and writing of his (García Márquez’s) novel was more like the act of distributed cognition and agency’ (p. 132). This shows that unlike the approach of considering literary creation the product of a genius, Álvaro Santana-Acuña shares Howard Becker’s approach (Art Worlds, 1982) and explores the artistic influences instrumental in the conception of One Hundred Years of Solitude. García Márquez’s trajectory as a journalist afforded him far greater access to world literature as well as invaluable close contact with influential authors from France, México, Colombia, Peru and Cuba, from whom he received valuable advice and support. But more than this, Santana-Acuña shows the ways in which these collaborations combining the ‘imaginations’ of several authors (which he describes as Networked Creativity) formed the core and conception of One Hundred Years of Solitude. No doubt these were important factors, but Santana-Acuña also describes how the novel acquired a cultural life of its own, which means it was emancipated from the geographic and cultural space in which it was created. Santana-Acuna asserts that this cultural life is a key element in the birth of a true classic.
A paramount aspect of his analysis is the role played by what Álvaro Santana-Acuña calls indexicals (small units of significance) in One Hundred Years of Solitude’s recognition as a classic. He describes indexing as the work of cultural brokers who decide which parts of the novel could hit a popular note among people from different nations and cultures (even those who have not actually read the classic) and can resonate through societies and across generations. In One Hundred Years of Solitude, the village of Macondo is one of these indexicals. Cultural brokers, as well as writers, have used Macondo as a metaphor to represent an absurd political situation where anything is possible, highlighting aspects of society such as the cynicism of some politicians who would undoubtedly have suffered from the plague of amnesia like the Macondo's inhabitants. The indexical of this fictional village has been applied more broadly to describe the agitated and incomprehensible political context in Latin American countries. Based on his own analysis of Macondo as an indexical, Santana-Acuña asserted that ‘this pattern – linking Macondo to events with global resonance – continued in recent decades’ (p. 239).
Another important indexical is the fact that One Hundred Years of Solitude has been identified as the most achieved example of magical realism. García Márquez’s novel has fostered a ‘globalization’ of magical realism, yet Santana-Acuña’s book shows us that at the time of One Hundred Years of Solitude’s publication it was not considered by critics to be representative of the genre.
The genre of Magical realism seeks to merge the extraordinary with our everyday existence. It has found its way into the imaginations of a range of authors and examples can be found from around the globe: eighteenth-century German author Novalis made early use of magical realism and in recent times, Frank Hellens’ book le fantastique réel (1967) has been regarded as heavily influenced by magical realism (Lysøe, 2002; Piret, 2002). As mentioned by Álvaro Santana-Acuña, magical realism was also adopted by European modernist writers Kafka and Virginia Woolf.
Although the works of these varied authors stand as examples of the amalgamation of the real and the supernatural, they do not represent the same approach to magical realism as García-Márquez’s literary vision. The genre can be considered a fairly broad church incorporating varying ‘imaginations’. For example, Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved (1987) – a supernatural tale set in the context of United States slavery in the 19th century which is considered as an example of magical realism – differs dramatically in its perspective from the work of the European modernists.
A precursor to the genre in Latin America is the concept of ‘the marvelous real’ exemplified in Alejo Carpentier’s novels: The Kingdom of this World (1949) and Explosion in a Cathedral (1963). Both genres have been fundamental in the development of Latin American literature, forming an integral part of its unique identity. Religion, cultural beliefs, indigenous heritage and colonialism as well as systemic violence in the region played an important role in the way the genre was shaped. García Márquez’s work was written in the historical context of a turbulent political and social situation in Colombia which spanned the late 1940s to the 1970s. In 1948 overwhelmingly popular presidential candidate Jorge Eliecer Gaitán was killed in cold blood in the centre of the capital Bogotá, leading to a violent reaction from the people. Following this incident, the National Front agreement was implemented: a political bipartisan pact that directly resulted in a horrific period of massacres committed by the left and right-wing militias, mainly targeting inculpable villagers. There is a particular Latin American response to this history of violence which permeates its literature and results in a unique manifestation of magical realism. Superstition and faith are dramatically represented, often as a means to overcome suffering or as a conduit to problem-solving.
In my view, the importance of these deeply ingrained themes and the way they are regarded and absorbed by the international readers are fundamental to the consecration of Gabriel García Márquez’s novel One Hundred Years of Solitude as an international classic. Recent coverage of those aspects (violence, superstition, religion) in newspapers and references in movies and soap operas have reinforced the novel’s significance. Yet, in his analysis of the making of this classic, Santana-Acuña focuses on the creative process and the art world and he somewhat neglects this broader political and cultural context.