50 Pages of Solitude

After finishing a gift copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, I found that many of my friends who had read it immediately suggested that I read One Hundred Years of Solitude. Many suggested quite simply that this was his masterpiece. I now sit on the precipice of finishing this magnificent book. I took a break almost quite literally at the half way point as I was preparing for auditions and then suddenly found myself distracted by the Unbearable Lightness of Being. I have now returned and the words leap off the pages with a comfortable spiral of images and “old friends”. I had no idea how attached I had become to this characters and how much I had already learned about them.

I must admit that as I round the last fifty, I was a bit of a hard sell at first. Yes, I would admit it was a brilliant book. Yes, I would say that it is a landmark piece of text. However, I did not find myself anything other than curious about the book and how it was constructed. Now as I near the end, I find myself dreading the inevitable closing of the sprung paperback and the often fruitless attempts to recommend it to others.

As I near the end all I can say is that it is a bible. It is an allegory, it is a collection of myths and fantasy and every bit as magical as a Rowling or a Tolkien story. I am truly fascinated as to how this story ends. I will see it soon. There will be final reflections upon conclusion.