Jon's Reviews > Love in the Time of Cholera

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez
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Dec 31, 07

it was amazing

Todo amor es un tipo de obsession, aunque no todos los amores duran. Éste es eterno, pero es literatura. En la vida real, los amores cambian. Y el cambio puede ser maravilloso.

Great Quotes:

"Although she never even hinted at it, she would have sold her soul to the devil to marry Florentino Ariza. She knew that it would not be easy to submit to his miserliness, or his maniacal sense of order, or his eagerness to ask for everything and give nothing at all in return, but despite all this, no other man in the world was better company because no other man in the world was so in need of love. But no other man was as elusive either, because their love never went beyond the point it always reached for him: the point where it would interfere with his eternal love for Fermina Daza."

And . . .

"She prayed to God to give him at least a moment so that he would not go to death without knowing how much she had loved him despite all their doubts, and she felt an irresistible longing to begin life with him all over again so that they could say what they had left unsaid and do everything right that they had done so badly in the past."

And . . .

"The truth is that he was never the same again. Wining back Fermina Daza was the sole purpose of his life."

Now THAT'S writing.

Basically, for a long time, I though this was going to be the story of my life. It’s the tale of Florentino Ariza and Fermina Daza, and a passionate first love that is kept alive for fifty-one years, nine months, and four days through a combination of intransigence and adamantine ardor. Some people will tell you that One Hundred Years Of Solitude is better—they don’t know what they’re talking about. García Márquez’s writing is, as always, gorgeous, and he understands emotion better than just about anyone.

The book’s theme is an innovative twist on the age-old idea of ‘true love’: is there really such a thing as Fate, or the Absolute, or is it all just self-delusion made inescapably real by uncompro-mising will? In other words, if you define yourself as something—e.g., the suffering lover or the eternal amour—then you’ll do anything, no matter how self-destructive, to perpetuate that definition. Or else, what are you?

This is why the book is so resonant for me. After college, but before my marriage, every relationship in which I found myself got only as far as the point where it might interfere with the one great love of my life. I shut off many a girl because I wouldn't let anyone into that space that I had reserved for the woman I once had, even though I thought I'd never have her again. Not a day goes by that I don't thank my stars that we got a new beginning.
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