It was an expected death, but still makes me feel bad, as if one thought our heroes will never die, but they’re humans after all. The death of the greatest living author in Spanish language has put him where he belongs, next to Quevedo or Cervantes, but I will still miss Gabriel García Márquez for a long time.
I think we have to suffer 100 years of solitude after Gabo’s death, and that writers and readers altogether cry the immense lost of someone who gave us so much, and asked for so little.
He was an unusual writer, as he was great, while most of us can only dream of being mediocre.
Gabo didn’t write about magic, as he always claims. He says that magic is just part of reality, especially in his South America, and I believe him. A language is so powerful that can change the world when spoken by the right person.
Messages come out of our mouths, out of our brains for those willing to hear, and they don’t seem to outlive the speaker. But that’s the magic of the written language, eternity.
Stories can be never-ending if we write them down. We are currently facing a lot of trouble studying the prehistory, while from ancient Egypt and Greece we can get a clue by reading their texts.
We have the opportunity to read Gabo’s stories forever, even though his voice has been shut, but his prose is eternal.
Rest in peace Don Gabriel.