No One Writes To The Colonel And Other Stories (2005) - Plot & Excerpts
There isn’t really much left to say about Senor Marquez. He is the supreme storyteller, the master of transforming the most simple and spare prose into something so magically vivid and colourful. Latin America grows in mystique every time I read him, and it’s a life goal for me to discover the continent in person (although in mind and soul, his writing has already transported me there). Much like the Southern Gothic writers, he has the ability to create a unique and dizzying sense of place (albeit not as inhabitable and intimidating as the worlds of Faulkner and McCarthy!)No One Writes To the Colonel is a collection of nine stories – the mention of which also brings to mind another collection of short stories that are among my favourites, written by J.D. Salinger - that are centered on life in Macondo, the village that came to prominence in his masterful 100 Years of Solitude. Although that was not my first exposure to Marquez (it was, in fact, News of a Kidnapping - the ‘Gonzo style’ chronicling of kidnappings and murders orchestrated by Pablo Escobar in Colombia), 100 Years was where Senor Marquez and I became good mates. I can definitely imagine the great man and myself seeking refuge from the oppressive Latin American heat and sharing a beer or a bottle of rum under the shade of one of those many almond trees that populate his stories. Shame that he passed!In terms of short stories, the only other collection of Marquez I’ve read (and thoroughly enjoyed) is Innocent Erendira and Others, which were faithful to his renowned style of bizarre and magical realism. The stories in this collection, however, seem rather more grounded in reality. The collection is bookended by two novellas. There is the title story, about a colonel who has been waiting for 15 years to receive a letter that has still not arrived (thus the title!), yet doggedly refuses to give up hope. This stubbornness of his extends to the refusal to sell a potentially profit-generating, fighting rooster until the one-year mourning period for his dead son has passed. This is much to the annoyance of his wife, who repeatedly questions the colonel about what they can eat when they have no money to buy food with. The colonel’s definitive response to this persistent question found right at the end of this story is an excellent example of Marquez’s wry humour!The next 8 stories are a mixed bag. Tuesday Siesta continues the theme of the loss of a son, while those who hate trips to the dentist should approach the exceptionally brief One of These Days with caution. Despite its brevity, I thought this piece was a great metaphor for the struggle between an oppressive state and the individual in Latin America, with an ending of rather satisfactory retribution for the latter! In There are No Thieves in This Town, a young, hot-blooded amateur thief pays for his impulsiveness by being outwitted by the person he has robbed. A common character connects both of the stories that follow, Balthazar’s Marvelous Adventure and Montiel’s Widow. One Day after Saturday is heavy with religious symbolism, where the lives of three characters are intersected by a biblical rain of dead birds, and an aging and senile pastor (who also makes an appearance in another story; using recurring characters in many of his stories is a favoured technique of Marquez and adds to our feeling of intimacy we feel with his world) who claims to have seen sees visions of a traitor walking through town: this being the Wandering Jew, who mocked Jesus on the way to his crucifixion. Artificial Roses is about an all-seeing blind grandmother who uses her keen sense of perception to discover that her granddaughter’s pretensions to modesty are just a guise.“Drowning in the pandemonium of abstract formulas which for two centuries had substituted the moral justification of the family’s power, Big Mama emitted a loud belch and expired’.And thus ends in true ironic Marquez fashion the life of the grand, monumental, omnipotent, almost tyrannical figure aptly named ‘Big Mama’, in the final (and perhaps richest) piece in this collection. She is a matriarchal figure with a vice-like grip over the people and property of not just Macondo, but of the entire country and even beyond. In one of the stories funniest moments, Big Mama (before her death) bequeaths her vast fortune to her trusted circle of nieces and nephews, and lists in her estate items such as ‘national sovereignty’, ‘the rights of man’, ‘the colours of the flag’, ‘free election’ and ‘Christian morality’. Her death creates such ripples that even the Supreme Pontiff himself is moved to undertake a journey from the Vatican to the distant land of Macondo. The attendance of the President of the Republic at the funeral even becomes a debated topic in parliament, suggesting that even his power is secondary to that of Big Mama. I read this story as an allegory for the fall of dictatorship and the passing of the colonial era in South America. As in colonial times when despotic leaders had a fierce stranglehold and power over the people, Big Mama’s reign of power inexplicably holds those in Macondo and beyond in unquestioning awe. And, as with the fall of colonial times when people are desperate to break the shackles of tyranny, Big Mama’s grandiose two-day funeral - rather than being a somber affair - is depicted almost as a celebration and explosion of pent-up relief. In the final analysis, I actually give this collection 3 and a half stars, but had to veer towards the 4 stars just because it was Marquez. Why so low? Well, I thought the stories on the whole just lacked that little bit of colour, vivid characterization, memorable dialogue, and moreover quirkiness that I’m used to from Marquez. He is undoubtedly on form here, but in a slightly more sedate manner. As readers, it is our duty to not only love our favourite writers in all their guises and forms, but to be critical enough to be able to distinguish between their great works and truly exceptional works. It might be worth mentioning that the version I read was translated by J.S. Bernstein and not by Gregory Rabassa who brought countless South American writers to the attention of English speaking readers. Whether that ends up making a difference I’m not so sure. I intend to read Marquez in Spanish one day, but my level is still quite elementary at the moment! Anyway, I’m now off to acquaint myself with the works of one of the (supposedly) undisputed kings of the short story, Anton Chekhov. This is my first exposure; hopefully not my last. Life is great when there is a certainty of numerous books ahead of you!
Unlike many other Garcia Marquez works, the novel mostly does not fall within the magic realism genre, as it includes only one magical event.The main characters of the novel are not named, adding to the feeling of insignificance of an individual living in Colombia. The colonel and his wife, who have lost their son to political repression, are struggling with poverty and financial instability. The corruption of the local and national officials is evident and this is a topic which Garcia Marquez explores throughout the novel, by using references to censorship and the impact of government on society. The colonel desperately tries to sell their inheritance from their only son who is now dead and eventually the only reminder of his existence is a rooster that the colonel trains to take part in a cockfight.Garcia Marquez has said in interviews that his characteristic storytelling style is the style of his grandmother, and that some of his best characters are patterned after his grandfather, whom he calls the most important figure in his life. Discussing literary influences, he has acknowledged his debt to Franz Kafka, William Faulkner, and Ernest Hemingway — all of whom lie behind the style of No One Writes to the Colonel.Although Garcia Marquez is a novelist, working within that genre’s basically mimetic pattern, his style is that of the modern romancer; it is lyric rather that realistic, highly polished and self-conscious rather than concerned only with mere external reality. His characters exist not in an “as-if” real world, but rather in a purely fictional world of his own making — a combination of the folklore conventions of his South American heritage and the realism of the great modernist writers. The result is that reality is seen as more problematic and inexplicable than everyday experience would suggest.That his fictions take place in a political culture that seems unstable and adrift is not as thematically important as the fact that this unorganized social world makes possible his exploration of reality as governed by inexplicable forces. Thus, his characters, deprived of the props of established social order, have only their most elemental and primal virtues to sustain them. He is a metaphysical and poetic writer, not a propagandist or a social realist.Garcia Marquez, primarily because of the popular and critical reception of "One Hundred Years of Solitude", is perhaps the best-known writer in the Latin American explosion of talent that has taken place since the 1960’s. Others in this modern tradition are Julio Cortazar, Carlos Fuentes, and Jose Donoso—all of whom have created their own version of a Kafkaesque modernist world which has fascinated general readers and critics alike. "No One Writes to the Colonel" is a minor masterpiece in this tradition, a precursor to the complexity and control of "One Hundred Years of Solitude".The ending is epic:"The woman lost her patience.- And meanwhile what do we eat? - she asked, and seized the colonel by the collar of his flannel night shirt. She shook him hard.It had taken the colonel seventy-five years – the seventy-five years of his life, minute by minute – to reach this moment. He felt pure, explicit, invincible at the moment when he replied:- Shit.”The Russian rock band "Bi-2" had a big hit in Eastern Europe with the song "Полковнику никто не пишет" (Russian translation for "No One Writes to the Colonel") that was included in the soundtrack of the Russian film "Brat-2".
What do You think about No One Writes To The Colonel And Other Stories (2005)?
Having read with some alarm my book review of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude”, my wife – who hails from Latin America herself – gave me for Christmas this year a copy of Gabo’s short story “No One Writes to the Colonel”. Her hope, naturally, is that I would find in that short story the magic that I found so lacking in “One Hundred Years”.This short story by Gabo is much simpler than his longer works. The story follows the life of a retired colonel who is slowly starving to death as he waits in tandem for a check from the government (for his years of service in the military) and for the cock fight that he is sure his prize-winning bird will win.I found this story charming and sad; and impregnated with the realities I have come to know in many years living all around Latin America. So many people around the region face similar struggles; getting their constipated bureaucratized governments to honor their commitments; fighting to make ends meet after they are too old for others to have use of them; desperately seeking an unlikely providential solution that will lead to prosperity.Gabo captures the suffering naturally, telling a story about which he knows a great deal. Colombia, Gabo’s birth home, has always been a hard land; a land of pain and desperation. Their almost constant political experimentation with violence is a testament to this.But there is something else that comes through in this story – for it is a story about hope. And this is something that I also have grown accustomed to in my interactions around the region. I find in the stories of gentle waiting a reflective sense of hope. Though people suffer, going hungry or facing setbacks, they never let their spirit be destroyed. They are never robbed of their sense of humor, of their buoyant anticipation of something great just around the corner, and their resilience to survive such tragedy without cracking.I won’t tell about the end of the story – that would be unfair. However for those interested in learning more about life in times of poverty; and how the poor in backwater places deal with such transcendental issues, I recommend you read this book. It won’t take you very long.
—Joel
Once you've read enough of Gabriel García Márquez, you'll realise, deep down, it's all the same story. And even more strangely, even if you've loved each one of those, like me, you'll accept, it was not about the story. Never. And when you've reached that point, it doesn't matter if the story had 6 pages or 600. It's just the same. Because what Márquez presents, that others cannot, isn't bound by the limits of a story or the length of it. He's the master of the small. The little words. The short sentences. The pauses. I remember Roman Polanski's 1965 classic Repulsion. Words, were not the point. That uneasiness of the quiet, rising within you like smoke growing denser each second, and coiling around your heart. Márquez can make the reader's heart swell with joy or squeeze in pain by his whims. Because what the reader sees inside a book isn't where Márquez hides his magic. It's in the whiteness of the pages, the pauses. And that pierces straight through our skins and into our hearts. We can master the words, even beat them, but we are all equally defenceless against the pauses. That's how he lords over us, and we're grateful to him for that.
—Dipankar
My thoughts on "No One Writes to the Colonel" are summed up by saying that the book was simply okay. The title story is the most interesting one in the collection, but the remaining stories, collected in the section, "Big Mama's Funeral," are nothing more than short character sketches that were plodding and uninteresting. Many of the stories ended abruptly, and I felt that I had very little idea of what, if anything, happened. The most interesting parts of the characters' lives seemed to have been left out in favor of a more mundane sort of afterthought. For instance, in "One Day After Sunday," amongst a number of events, a priest claims that he has seen the devil three times. I was more interested in the priest's meetings with Satan than I was with what the story was about, but we never hear any details about said meetings.This is my first experience with Marquez's work and I have "One Hundred Years of Solitude" queued up to read soon. "Solitude" is highly revered, so I'm holding out hope that it is more interesting than this collection of stories.
—Eric Kennedy
