GGM

Gabriel García Márquez 

GGM died today at the age of 87. The news got on the wire this morning and soon the whole world knew about the death of the writer. A few years before I took up Spanish somewhat earnestly (and that was almost thirty years ago) I had come across his most famous book in an English translation. I took it home and read it. I was confused and bewildered by the narrative, even though I had no problem none whatsoever with the language into which the novel was translated.

A few years later, I had to read the novel in the original and then write a term paper about it. That was when I had to read up critical essays written in both English and Spanish about the novel. Then I slowly appreciated the beauty of imagination and the art of lying in such a way that there are truths in lying. Lying is truly an art that most humans try to do, but only a few excel. 

Anyway the news of GGM's death brought back some beautiful memories of my struggle with the Spanish language. I learned to recognize the genius of some Spanish language writers whose writings would shame most, if not all contemporary Vietnamese prose writers. Besides, GGM, read Ernesto Sabato, Cortázar, Rulfo, Asturias, Fuentes, and Agustín Yáñez, just to name a few novelists not familar to the uninitiated. 

I am going to resume my journey with Spanish and French languages before it's too late. I need to stop wasting my time with fools and ignoramuses.

April 17, 2014

Wissai