One Hundred Years Of Solitude. By Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Image

Image            ” It always amuses me that the biggest praise for my work comes for the imagination, while the truth is that there’s not a single line in all my work that does not have a basis in reality. The problem is that Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination”.

Symbols and Themes

ImageInseparability of past, present and future

Memory and Forgetfulness

The Bible : Recounts the creation of Macondo at its earliest Edenic days of innocense and continues until it’s apocalyptic end with a cleansing flood in between

Gypsies…..little gold fishes…..the railroad….the golden chamber pot….English encyclopedia.

………………………………………………………………….

A Family Saga

Everywhere ( Paris, Africa, Orcas Island, Hawaii, Mexico, Bulgaria ) I carry with me a photo of my beloved grandmother, Lily Dekorne Thomasma. I was only 8 when she died. When I came home home from school that day with my two little brothers, my dad was already there. My mom gently told us to go put our pajamas on ( momentary realization while writing this: I often use “pajama” as part of my passwords) .I remember mostly the quiet and the feel of tears and the lost look on my fathers face like a still from a film. I remember her giving me Dutch bobalar candies and pink pepper mints from a jar on the kitchen cupboard. And minute details of the interiors of every room in the English Tudor styled farmhouse where my mom was taught to cook by her mother in law after she married my dad. The horse barn, my secret place in the hay loft, where someone had once hanged themself , the feeling from the horses as if we were one, the scent of my grandmothers forsythia bushes in early spring and the smoke floating like clouds in the sky from the huge piles of burning leaves in the autumn ….all are rich in my memory..Sunday mid day dinners were huge affairs with all my aunts , uncles and cousins(being my best friends) gathered noisily together

after the forced quiet of previous church service.( I recently wrote down each cousins name and occupation, it was a surprising account of how life had unfolded…I laughed and thought how awesome and strange!)

I see my grandmother in dreams and I hear her, her black hair is thick with curls and I smell winter time as she places a kiss upon my forehead…..she left me a prayer when I was 8 and I have taught it to each of my own grandchildren. It is thru her that I have discovered since arriving in Bulgaria that I am part of the DNA Haplogroup J2 ( National Geographic Genographic Project)  It arose in the Fertile Crescent around 50,000 years ago ….Thrace, where I now find myself thru synchronicity and profound mystery has become the thread to my returning to my ancestral home in Bulgaria(Thrace).

And so a Family Saga…..We each have one and many novels are inspired by this like One Hundred Years of Solitude. My hope and challenge for you is that your personal golden thread will be woven into your own first novel or poem or drawing or even a screenplay. If you like you could even post here on this blog a first paragraph….I would be so grateful! …..Something for you to leave for your descendants in your secret box…..and remember to tell them just where you have hidden the key to antiquity!

8 thoughts on “One Hundred Years Of Solitude. By Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  1. My beautiful cousin Peggy “mother earth” as you are referred to by family members. Your depth of thought inspires me. Your quest for clarity is infectious. Thank you for always being true, you are an example to follow.

    My golden thread knots at my immediate family of course, especially my husband Randy – my rock, but the thread through my extended family is how I’m grounded with deep roots. We come from a special place with strong ties to each other by our heritage alone. Our genes are strong and inseparable. Although we moved from Holland when I was young, it was the sweet summer trips back home that I remember so fondly. Trips concentrated on family heritage – Damstra/Steketee on my dad’s side and Palmbos/Van Dyke on the other, all pure blood Dutch – it really was a Dutch Village!

    Oh how “cool” I thought you Thomasma’s were – still do of course. Your big white house with black shutters at the end of the cul-de-sac. Your basement was a treasure trove and I’ll never forget the butt shaking machine! Your mom, so stoic and perfect – your dad, so humorous and loving – Dave and Steve as cute as could be – you the artist, the natural one – and Amy the athlete, my friend. Like my sisters, your little sister is my life long soul mate, she was my age and we hold a special bond. I love her so much I could burst and think of her every single day.

    The Nykamp/Postma’s – oh how much fun we had at the lake house, summer bliss at the beach building sand castles and long walks. We’d swim in the waves so long that when we went to bed at night we would lay there still feeling the roll of the waves. Tom, Jon and Lori they were always so kind and welcoming as we invaded their house every year. Aunt Norm – the chef, always kept candy in the drawer for us, Uncle Ed – I can still hear him reading from the Bible after meals with such strength and conviction.

    The Grissen’s – the educators. Beautiful memories there too. I thought Aunt Elaine looked like a movie star and Uncle Harold, well he fit the part as the professor. I don’t remember Mark very much, but I feel like I know him now. I thought of Pat like I did Elaine, a glamorous superstar. We are all so happy to be a part of her life now.

    Thank you for sharing your life Peggy – I love you very much. You’re a part of my golden thread and I’m so grateful for my extended family which provide me with “roots” I can hold on to.

    Stay safe and well and I hope our paths cross in the near future.

    Like

  2. Vicki…thank you so much for sharing…that is my intention with this blog….and for expressing so touchingly the Dutch roots we share from our maternal grandparents….you are beautiful dear cousin!

    Like

  3. I loved what you shared about your grandmother 🙂 In Bangladesh, I am brought up in a culture, where the mythical and the unseen are not unusual, they are weaved into the fabric of our being, our society.. just like the carribean’s I guess… lol.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s