1982 : Gabriel Garcia Marquez

1982 : Gabriel Garcia Marquez

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“for his novels and short stories, in which the fantastic and the realistic are combined in a richly composed world of imagination, reflecting a continent’s life and conflicts”



March 6, 1927

Place of birth


Aracataca, Magdalena, Colombia



Novelist, Short-story writer, And journalist.




Notable award(s)


Nobel Prize in Literature 1982


Born in Aracataca, in the coastal department of Magdalena, Colombia, Sunday, March 6, 1927. Son of Gabriel Eligio Garcia Marquez and Luis Santiago Iguaran. He was reared by his maternal grandparents, Colonel Nicolas Marquez and Tranquilina Iguaran, in Aracataca. His childhood is told in his memoir Living to tell the tale. In 2007 he returned to Aracataca, after 24 years of absence, for which he paid tribute the Colombian government to fulfill its 80 year history and 40 of the first publication of One Hundred Years of Solitude.

In 1936 he died Colonel Nicolas Marquez, in which he made a plea to Gabriel Garcia Marquez Sincelejo, suffers with their parents for months after moving to Barranquilla to study. He attended the early grades to high school in San Jose Jesuit College (now San Jose Institute) since 1940 and then travel to Zipaquira to finish the last two years of high school at the Lycee National Men, today (National College San Juan Bautista de La Salle ), With a scholarship until 1946. In 1947, Garcia Marquez went to Bogota with the intention of studying law and political science at the Universidad Nacional de Colombia (Bogota), who deserted the race. After the so-called “Bogotazo” in 1948, bloody riots that were unleashed on April 9 because of the assassination of popular leader Jorge Eliecer Gaitan, when it burned some of his writings in the pension where he lived, decided to go to Cartagena de Indias and started working as a reporter for El Universal. In late 1949 he moved to Barranquilla to work as a reporter and columnist at The Herald. At the request of Alvaro Mutis, Garcia Marquez returned to Bogota in 1954, where he worked in El Espectador as a reporter and film critic. In 1958, after staying in Europe, Garcia Marquez returned to America, and stayed in Venezuela. In Barranquilla married Mercedes Barcha, which will soon have two sons, Rodrigo (who was born in Bogota in 1959) and Gonzalo (who was born in Mexico three years later). In 1960, after the triumph of the Cuban revolution is going to Havana and works in the press agency created by the Cuban government Prensa Latina and makes friends with Ernesto Guevara In 1961 he settled in New York as a correspondent for Prensa Latina. Upon receiving threats and criticism of the CIA [citation needed] and the Cuban exiles, who did not share the contents of its reports, decided to move to Mexico. In 1967, Garcia Marquez publishes his work on more, One Hundred Years of Solitude, history, which tells the experiences of the Buendia family in the imaginary population of Macondo. The play is regarded as a great reference of magical realism. In 1969 he settles in Barcelona (Spain) where they will live for several years engaging relationship with many intellectuals. Since 1975, Garcia Marquez lives between Mexico, Cartagena de Indias, Havana and Paris. In 1982, it awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. In 1998 he became chairman of the editorial board and one of the owners of the Magazine Change in Colombia, but in 2006 sold its participation in this magazine. In 2002 published his autobiography, entitled Living to tell the tale. In 1981 decided to asylum in Mexico, where he lives so far, because of political persecution by the government of Julio Cesar Turbay Ayala (1978-1982). Founded in 1994 with his brother James and with the attorney Jaime Abello, the Foundation for a New Iberoamerican Journalism (FNPI), which hopes that young journalists can learn to master the art as Alma Guillermo Prieto, Javier Dario Restrepo, or Jon Lee Anderson , Seeking to renew their talents and learn to make better journalism. Garcia Marquez is still the president of the FNPI. On March 22, 2008 Gabriel Garcia Marquez celebrated their golden wedding with Mercedes Barcha.


Works in Spanish:

  • La hojarasca – Bogota: Ediciones Sipa, 1955

  • El coronel no tiene quien le escriba – Medellin: Aguirre Editor, 1961

  • La mala hora – Madrid: Talleres de Graficas “Luis Perez”, 1961

  • Los funerales de la Mama Grande – Mexico: Editorial Universidad Veracruzana, 1962

  • Cien anos de soledad – Buenos Aires: Editorial Sudamericana, 1967

  • Isabel viendo llover en Macondo – Buenos Aires: Editorial Estuario, 1967

  • La novela en America Latina : Dialogo / Garcia Marquez, Mario Vargas Llosa – Lima: Milla Batres, 1969

  • Relato de un naufrago – Barcelona: Tusquets, 1970

  • La increible y triste historia de la candida Erendira y su abuela desalmada – Barcelona: Barral Ed., 1972

  • Ojos de perro azul – Rosario, Argentina: Equisditorial, 1972

  • El negro que hizo esperar a los angeles – Montevideo: Ediciones Alfil, 1972

  • Cuando era feliz e indocumentado – Caracas: Ediciones El Ojo de Camello, 1973

  • Chile, el golpe y los gringos – Bogota: Latina, 1974

  • Cuatro cuentos – Mexico: Comunidad Latinoamericana de Escritores, 1974

  • El otono del patriarca – Barcelona: Plaza and Janes, 1975

  • Todos los cuentos de Gabriel Garcia Marquez : 1947-1972 – Barcelona: Plaza and Janes, 1975

  • Cronicas y reportajes – Bogota: Instituto Colombiano de Cultura, 1976

  • Operacion Carlota – Lima: Mosca Azul, 1977

  • Periodismo militante – Bogota: Son de Maquina, 1978

  • De viaje por los paises socialistas – Cali, Colombia: Macondo, 1978

  • Cronica de una muerte anunciada – Bogota: La Oveja Negra, 1981

  • Obra periodistica – 4 vol. – Barcelona: Bruguera, 1981-1984

  • El rastro de tu sangre en la nieve;El verano feliz de la senora Forbes – Bogota: Dampier, 1982

  • El secuestro : Guion cinematografico – Bogota: Oveja Negra, 1982

  • Viva Sandino – Managua: Nueva Nicaragua, 1982 – 2nd edition published as El asalto: el operativo con que el FSLN se lanzo al mundo, 1983.

  • El amor en los tiempos del colera – Bogota: Oveja Negra, 1985

  • La aventura de Miguel Littin, clandestino en Chile – Madrid: El Pais, 1986

  • El general en su labertino – Madrid: Mondadori, 1989

  • Notas de prensa, 1980-1984 – Madrid: Mondadori, 1991

  • Doce cuentos peregrinos – Madrid: Mondadori, 1992

  • Del amor y otros demonios – Madrid: Mondadori, 1994

  • Diatriba de amor contra un hombre sentado : monologo en un acto – Santafe de Bogota: Arango Editores, 1994

  • Noticia de un secuestro – Barcelona: Mondadori, 1996

  • El verano feliz de la senora Forbes – Madrid: Almarabu, 1986

  • Vivir para contarla – Barcelona: Mondadori, 2002

  • Memoria de mis putas tristes – New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2004

Translations into English:

  • No One Writes to the Colonel, and Other Stories / translated from the Spanish by J. S. Bernstein – New York: Harper & Row, 1968

  • One Hundred Years of Solitude / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Harper & Row, 1970

  • Leaf Storm, and Other Stories / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Harper & Row, 1972

  • The Autumn of the Patriarch / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Harper & Row, 1976

  • Innocent Ere?ndira, and Other Stories / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Harper& Row, 1978

  • In Evil Hour / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Harper & Row, 1979

  • Chronicle of a Death Foretold / translated from the Spanish by Gregory Rabassa – New York: Knopf, 1983

  • Collected Stories – New York: Harper & Row, 1984

  • The Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor / translated from the Spanish by Randolph Hogan – New York: Knopf, 1986

  • Clandestine in Chile : the Adventures of Miguel Litti?n / translated by Asa Zatz – New York: Holt, 1987

  • Love in the Time of Cholera / translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 1988

  • The General in His Labyrinth / translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 1990

  • Collected Novellas – New York: HarperCollins, 1990

  • Strange Pilgrims : Twelve Stories / translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 1993

  • Of Love and Other Demons / translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 1995

  • News of a Kidnapping / translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 1997

  • Living to Tell the Tale / translated by Edith Grossman – New York: Knopf, 2003

  • Memories of My Melancholy Whores / translated from the Spanish by Edith – New York: Knopf, 2005

Literature (a selection):

  • Vargas Llosa, Mario, Garcia Marquez : historia de un deicidio – Barcelona: Barral, 1971

  • Fau, Margaret Eustella, Bibliographic Guide to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, 1979-1985 / compiled by Margaret Eustella Fau and Nelly Sfeir de Gonzalez – Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1986

  • Gabriel Garcia Marquez : New Readings / edited by Bernard McGuirk and Richard Cardwell – Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1987

  • Lopez Lemus, Virgilio, Garcia Marquez : una vocacion incontenible – La Habana: Letras Cubanas, 1987

  • Bell-Villada, Gene H., Garcia Marquez : the Man and His Work – Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, cop. 1990

  • Gabriel Garcia Marquez : a Study of the Short Fiction / [compiled by] Harley D. Oberhelman – Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1991

  • Saldivar, Dasso, Garcia Marquez : el viaje a la semilla: la biografia – Madrid: Alfaguara, 1997

  • Conversations with Gabriel Garci?a Ma?rquez / edited by Gene H. Bell-Villada – Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2006


1982: Nobel Prize in Literature.

Presentation Speech:

Presentation Speech by Professor Lars Gyllensten of the Swedish Academy.

Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Ladies and Gentlemen,

With this year’s Nobel Prize in Literature to Gabriel Garcia Marquez the Swedish Academy cannot be said to bring forward an unknown writer.

Garcia Marquez achieved unusual success as a writer with his novel Cien anos de soledad in 1967 (One Hundred Years of Solitude). The book has been translated into a large number of languages and has sold millions of copies. It is still being reprinted and read with undiminished interest by new readers. Such a success with a single work could be fatal for a writer with less resources than those possessed by Garcia Marquez. He has, however, gradually confirmed his position as a rare storyteller richly endowed with a material, from imagination and experience, which seems inexhaustible. In breadth and epic richness, for instance, the novel El otono del patriarca, 1975, (The Autumn of the Patriarch) compares favourably with the first-mentioned work. Short novels such as El coronel no tiene quien le escriba, 1961 (No One Writes to the Colonel), La mala hora, 1962 (An Evil Hour), or last year’s Cronica de una muerte anunciada (Chronicle of a Death Foretold), complement the picture of a writer who combines the copious, almost overwhelming narrative talent with the mastery of the conscious, disciplined and widely read artist of language. A large number of short stories, published in several collections or in magazines, give further proof of the great versatility of Garcia Marquez’ narrative gift. His international successes have continued. Each new work of his is received by expectant critics and readers as an event of world importance, is translated into many languages and published as quickly as possible in large editions.

Nor can it be said that any literary unknown continent or province is brought to light with the prize to Gabriel Garcia Marquez. For a long time Latin American literature has shown a vigour as in few other literary spheres. It has won acclaim in the cultural life of today. Many impulses and traditions cross each other. Folk culture, including oral storytelling, reminiscences from old Indian culture, currents from Spanish baroque in different epochs, influences from European surrealism and other modernism are blended into a spiced and life-giving brew. From it Garcia Marquez and other Spanish-American writers derive material and inspiration. The violent conflicts of political nature – social and economic – raise the temperature of the intellectual climate. Like most of the other important writers in the Latin American world, Garcia Marquez is strongly committed politically on the side of the poor and the weak against oppression and economic exploitation. Apart from his fictional production he has been very active as a journalist, his writings being many-sided, inventive, often provocative and by no means limited to political subjects.

The great novels remind one of William Faulkner. Garcia Marquez has created a world of his own round the imaginary town of Macondo. In his novels and short stories we are led into this peculiar place where the miraculous and the real converge. The extravagant flight of his own fantasy combines with traditional folk tales and facts, literary allusions and tangible – at times obtrusively graphic – descriptions approaching the matter-of-factness of reportage. As with Faulkner, the same chief characters and minor persons crop up in different stories. They are brought forward into the light in various ways – sometimes in dramatically revealing situations, sometimes in comic and grotesque complications of a kind that only the wildest imagination or shameless reality itself can achieve. Manias and passions harass them. Absurdities of war let courage change shape with craziness, infamy with chivalry, cunning with madness.

Death is perhaps the most important director behind the scenes in Garcia Marquez’ invented and discovered world. Often his stories revolve around a dead person – someone who has died, is dying or will die. A tragic sense of life characterizes Garcia Marquez’ books – a sense of the incorruptible superiority of fate and the inhuman, inexorable ravages of history. But this awareness of death and tragic sense of life is broken by the narrative’s unlimited, ingenious vitality, which in its turn is a representative of the at once frightening and edifying vital force of reality and life itself. The comedy and grotesqueness in Garcia Marquez can be cruel, but can also glide over into a conciliating humour.

With his stories Garcia Marquez has created a world of his own which is a microcosmos. In its tumultuous, bewildering yet graphically convincing authenticity it reflects a continent and its human riches and poverty.

Perhaps more than that: a cosmos in which the human heart and the combined forces of history time and again burst the bounds of chaos-killing and procreation.

Monsieur Garcia Marquez,

Ne disposant que de quelques minutes, je n’ai pu donner de votre ?uvre litteraire qu’une image d’aspect general et assez abstraite. Certes, vos romans et vos nouvelles sont d’ordre general, ce qui revient a dire qu’elles ont une portee et une signification humaines de cet ordre. Mais elles ne sont pas abstraites. Au contraire, vos~uvres se caracterisent par un rendu du vivant peu commun et une concretion realiste auxquels aucun condense abstrait ne saurait rendre justice. Le mieux que je puisse faire, c’est d’exhorter ceux qui ne les ont pas lues a les lire. C’est bien ce que j’ai fait.

Sur ces paroles, je vous presente les felicitations les plus cordiales de l’Academie Suedoise et je vous invite a recevoir le prix Nobel de litterature des mains de Sa Majeste le Roi.

Nobel Lecture:

8 December, 1982

The Solitude of Latin America

Antonio Pigafetta, a Florentine navigator who accompanied Magellan in the first trip around the world, wrote on its way through South America, a chronicle our rigorous nevertheless seems an adventure of the imagination. That he had seen pigs with the belly button in the back and legs without some birds whose females brood on the backs of male and others as alcatraces language whose peaks appeared without a spoon. That he had seen a monstrosity with animal head and ears mule, camel corps, deer and legs of horses neigh. Recounted that the first native who found in Patagonia, put him in front a mirror, and that that inflamed giant lost the use of reason by the dread of his own image. This brief and fascinating book, which are seen as the seeds of our novels today, is by no means the most striking testimony of our reality of those times. Chroniclers of the Indies incontabels us by others. Eldorado, our country is an illusion so coveted, featured on numerous maps for many years, changing of place and form as the fantasy of cartographers. In search of the source of Eternal Youth, the legendary Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca explored for eight years, the north of Mexico, on an expedition whose members venatica ate each other, and came just five of the 600 that started. One of the many mysteries that have never been decoded, is that of the eleven thousand mules loaded with a hundred pounds of gold each, that one day out of Cuzco to pay the ransom of Atahualpa and never reached their destination. Later, during colonial times, were sold in Cartagena de Indias some hens raised in alluvial land, where gizzard stones were gold. This madness of our founding Aureus chased us until recently. Just in the last century the German mission to study the construction of a railway interoceanic in the isthmus of Panama, concluded that the project was feasible under the condition that the rails were not made of iron, which was a little metal in the region But that would be made of gold. The independence of Spanish rule did not put us safe from the insanity. Gen. Antonio Lopez de Santana, who was three times dictator of Mexico, was buried with the magnificent funeral that he had lost his right leg in the so-called War of the Cakes. Gen. Gabriel Garcia Moreno ruled Ecuador for 16 years as an absolute monarch, and his body was veiled with his gala uniform and decorations of their shell sitting in the presidential chair. Gen. Maximiliano Hernandez Martinez, the Theosophical despot of El Salvador who did exterminate in a barbaric killing 30 thousand peasants, had invented a pendulum to see if the food was poisoned, and was covered with red paper street lighting to combat an epidemic scarlet fever. The monument to General Francisco Morazan, erected in the main square of Tegucigalpa, is actually a statue of Marshal Ney bought in Paris in a warehouse used for sculptures. Eleven years ago, one of the illustrious poets of our time, the Chilean Pablo Neruda, brightened this area with his word. In good conscience of Europe, and sometimes also in the bad, have broken out since then with more impetus than ever ghostly news from Latin America, the homeland of immense historical men and women hallucinating, whose stubbornness endless confused with the legend . We have not had a moment of calm. A president Promethean entrenched in his palace in flames died fighting alone against an entire army, and two suspects disaster Eros and never clarified segaron the life of another generous heart, and a military Democrat who had restored the dignity of its people. 5 There have been wars and 17 coups, and emerged a dictator luciferino that in the name of God carries out the first ethnocide of Latin America in our time. Meanwhile, 20 million Latin American children died before reaching two years, which are more than those who were born in Europe since 1970. Missing because of repression are nearly 120 thousand, as if it is not known today where all the inhabitants of the city of Uppsala. Many pregnant women were arrested gave birth in Argentine prisons, but are unaware of the whereabouts and identity of their children, who were given up for adoption or placed in orphanages clandestinely by military authorities. By not wanting things to continue well have died around 200 thousand women and men throughout the continent, and more than 100 thousand killed in three small and willing countries of Central America, Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala. If this were in the United States, it would be rata figure of 600 million violent deaths in four years. In Chile, a country of traditions hospital, had fled a million people: 12% percent of its population. Uruguay, a tiny nation of two and a half million people who are regarded as the most civilized country on the continent, has lost in exile to one of every five citizens. The civil war in El Salvador since 1979 has caused a refugee almost every 20 minutes. The country that could be done with all the exiles and forced migrants from Latin America, would have a population larger than Norway. I venture to think that this is really huge, and not just its literary expression, which this year has attracted the attention of the Swedish Academy of Letters. A reality that is not the paper, but they live with us and determines each instant of our countless daily deaths, and that sustains an unquenchable source of creation, full of misery and beauty products, of which this wandering and nostalgic Colombian is not more a figure most identified by the lot. Poets and beggars, musicians and prophets, warriors and Malandrino, all creatures removed from reality that we had to ask very little to the imagination, because the biggest challenge for us has been the inadequacy of conventional resources to make credible our lives. That, friends, the crux of our solitude. Well, if these difficulties hindering us to ourselves, that we are of the essence, it is not difficult to understand that the rational talents on this side of the world, extasiados in contemplation of their own cultures, have been left without a valid method for interpreters. It is understandable that insist on medirnos with the same yardstick with which to measure themselves, without remembering that the ravages of life are not equal for all and that the search for identity is so arduous and bloody for us as it was for them. The interpretation of our reality with schemes outside only helps to make us ever more unknown, ever less free, more and more lonely. Perhaps the venerable Europe would be more sympathetic if they see us in your own past. If you remember that London took 300 years to built its first wall and another 300 for a bishop, that Rome was discussed in the darkness of uncertainty for 20 centuries before that an Etruscan king to introduce the history, and that even in the sixteenth century the peaceful Swiss of today, we revel in its cheeses and tame their watches unperturbed, bloodied Europe as soldiers of fortune. Even at the height of the Renaissance, 12 thousand lansquenetes in the pay of the imperial armies sacked and devastated Rome, a knife and went to eight thousand of its inhabitants. I do not pretend to embody the illusions of Tonio Kroger, whose dreams of a union between north and south chaste passion exalted Thomas Mann 53 years ago in this place. But I think that the European spirit clarifier, which is also fighting for a homeland big here more humane and more just might help us better if we reviewed in depth the way he sees you. Solidarity with our dreams we will feel less alone, until it is realized through acts of legitimate support to the peoples that assume the illusion of having a life of its own in the division of the world. Latin America does not want or have to be a bishop without a will, nor has anything of that chimerical designs of their independence and originality to become a Western aspiration. However, the progress of navigation so many that have reduced distances between our Americas and Europe seem to have risen change our cultural distance. Why is the originality that we unreservedly supported in the literature we are denied all kinds of suspicions in our attempts so difficult for social change? Why do you think that social justice that the Europeans are trying to impose advance in their countries can not also be a target in Latin America with different methods in different conditions? No: the excessive violence and pain in our history are the result of injustice and bitterness without a secular story, and not a conspiracy plotted to 3 thousand miles from our house. But many European leaders and thinkers have believed it, with the childishness of grandparents who forgot the follies of his youth fruitful, as if it were possible to another destination to live at the mercy of the two major owners of the world. That, friends, the size of our loneliness. However, against oppression, looting and neglect, our response is life. Neither pests nor floods or famines or the cataclysms, not even the eternal wars over the centuries and centuries have succeeded in reducing the advantage tenacious of life over death. One advantage that enhances and speeds up every year there are 74 million more births than deaths, a number of new live as to increase seven times each year the population of New York. Most of them are born in countries with fewer resources, and among these, of course, those of Latin America. In contrast, the most prosperous countries have managed to accumulate enough destructive power to wipe out a hundred times not only to all human beings that have existed until now, but all the living things that have gone through this planet of misfortune. A day like today, my master William Faulkner said in this place: “I refuse to admit the end of man.” I do not feel worthy to occupy the site which was theirs if they do not have the full awareness that for the first time since the origins of mankind, the colossal disaster that he refused to admit 32 years ago is now nothing more than a mere possibility scientific . Faced with this overwhelming reality that through all the time due to human seem utopian, the inventor of fables that we feel everything we feel with the right to believe that it is not too late to undertake the creation of utopia contrary. Razed and a new utopia of life, nobody can decide for others to the way he died, which really is true love and happiness possible, and where the lines sentenced to one hundred years of solitude have finally and forever a second opportunity on earth.


Love in the Time of Cholera

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