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The General in His Labyrinth

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The General in His Labyrinth
Front jacket cover of the first (US) hardback edition of the book's translation.
AuthorGabriel García Márquez
Original titleEl general en su laberinto
TranslatorEdith Grossman
Cover artistThomas Woodruff
LanguageSpanish
GenreHistorical novel
Dictator novel
PublisherEditorial La Oveja Negra (Spanish)
Alfred A. Knopf (English)
Publication date
1989
Publication placeColombia
Published in English
1990
Media typeHardcover and Paperback
Pages285 (English)
ISBN[[Special:BookSources/ISBN+958-06-0006-6+%28Spanish%29%3Cbr+%2F%3EISBN+0-394-58258-6+%28English%29 |ISBN 958-06-0006-6 (Spanish)
ISBN 0-394-58258-6 (English)]] Parameter error in {{ISBNT}}: invalid character

The General in His Labyrinth (original Spanish title: El general en su laberinto) is a fictionalized account of the last days of South American Liberator Simón Bolívar, written by the Colombian Nobel Prize-winning novelist Gabriel García Márquez. First published in 1989, the book traces Bolívar's final journey from Bogotá to the Caribbean coastline of Colombia in his attempt to leave South America for exile in Europe. In this novel about a continental hero, "despair, sickness, and death inevitably win out over love, health, and life."[1]

Following the success of works such as One Hundred Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera, García Márquez became attracted to the idea of writing about the "Great Liberator" on reading an unfinished novel by his friend and fellow writer, Álvaro Mutis. He borrowed the setting—Bolivar's voyage down the Magdalena River in 1830—from Mutis. After two years of research that encompassed the extensive memoirs of Bolívar's Irish aide-de-camp, Daniel O'Leary, as well as numerous other historical documents and repeated academic consultation, García Márquez published his account of the last seven months of Bolívar's life.

Breaking with the traditional heroic portrayal of the General, García Márquez depicts a pathetic protagonist, a prematurely aged man who is physically ill and mentally exhausted.[2] He recollects Bolívar’s wars, defeats, passions, sins, and loves; all intertwined in "a labyrinthine and internalized structure of disillusionment and frustration" that he has helped create.[3] "By choosing to portray Bolívar's life the way he does, García Márquez summarizes so much: the life of a great man, an era, a culture."[1]

Its mixture of genres makes The General in His Labyrinth difficult to classify, and commentators disagree on its position along the scale between novel and historical account. García Márquez's insertion of interpretive and fictionalized elements, some dealing with Bolívar's most intimate moments, caused outrage in parts of Latin America when the book was released. Many prominent Latin American figures regarded García Márquez's account as destructive to the reputation of one of the region's most important historic figures, and a negative influence on the outside world. However, some saw The General in His Labyrinth as a tonic for Latin American culture and a challenge to the region in dealing with its current problems.

Background

A map of Gran Colombia and Central America, showing the route of the Magdalena River, which takes Bolívar on his final journey in The General in His Labyrinth

The initial idea to write a book about Simón Bolívar came to García Márquez through his friend and fellow Colombian writer Álvaro Mutis, to whom the book is dedicated. Mutis had started writing a book called El Último Rostro about Bolívar's final voyage along the Magdalena River but never finished. At the time, García Márquez had a greater interest in writing about the Magdalena River because of extensive knowledge he had of the place from childhood. [4] Two years after reading the unfinished El Último Rostro, García Márquez asked Mutis if he could write a book on Bolívar's last voyage.[5]

García Márquez chose to write the book in the form of a detailed documentary, to give more authenticity to the book; Bolívar's thoughts are never written about.[6][7] He chose to do so because he believed that most of the information available on Bolívar was one-sided and produced a cardboard image of the book's protagonist, stating that: "no one ever said in Bolívar’s biographies that he sang or that he was constipated...but historians don’t say these things because they think they are not important."[7] In the epilogue to the novel, García Márquez writes that he did extensive research for two years; the task was difficult, both because it is the "least documented period in Bolívar's life",[5] and also because he lacked "experience and method in historical research".[8]

García Márquez researched a wide variety of historical documents, including Daniel Florencio O'Leary's thirty-four volume memoirs, nineteenth-century newspapers, and letters written by Bolívar himself. He also engaged the help of several experts: geographer Gladstone Oliva, fellow Colombian and historian Eugenio Gutiérrez Celys, who co-wrote a book called Bolívar Día a Día with historian Fabio Puyo, and astronomer Jorge Perezdoval, who made an inventory of the occurrence of full moons during the first 30 years of the century; several other professors, historians, and experts were consulted as well. Most importantly, he worked closely with Antonio Bolívar Goyanes, a distant relative of Simón Bolívar himself, for extensive editing of the book.[9]

Historical context

Gran Colombia, led by Simón Bolívar from 1819 to 1830, was the South American republic that later divided into present-day Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador and Panama.

The novel is set in 1830, at the tail end of the initial campaign to secure Latin America's independence from Spain. Most of Spanish America had gained independence by this point; only Cuba and Puerto Rico had to wait until the Spanish-American war of 1898.

Within a few decades of Christopher Columbus's 1498 voyage, which reached what is now Venezuela's coast, South America had been effectively conquered by Spain and Portugal. However, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Napoleonic wars weakened Spain and Portugal's power.[10] Several factors contributed to the destabilization of government and weakened Spain's control over its colonies: Napoleon's invasion of Spain in 1808, the abdication of Charles IV, Ferdinand VII's renouncement of his right to succeed, and the placement of Joseph Bonaparte on the Spanish throne.[11] Spain was virtually cut off from its colonies and furthermore, the American and French revolutions inspired many creoles, American-born descendants of Spanish settlers. Latin America was resultantly run by independent juntas or colonial self-governments.[12]

The early 1800s saw the first attempts at securing liberation from Spain led by Simón Bolívar in the north. Simón Bolívar's dream of uniting the Spanish American nations under one central government was almost achieved. However, shortly after the liberation movements were completed, problems developed amongst the capitals, and civil wars were sparked in some provinces; Bolívar lost many of his supporters, fell ill, and opposition increased further still. In 1830, he resigned his presidency from the Republic of Colombia.[13]

Plot summary

The novel begins on Saturday, May 8, 1830 in Santa Fe de Bogotá. General Bolívar is preparing for his journey towards the port of Cartagena de Indias; after which he hopes to leave Colombia for Europe. Following his resignation as President of Gran Colombia, the people of the lands he has liberated have now turned against him, scrawling anti-Bolívar graffiti and even throwing waste at him. Manuela Sáenz, his long-time lover, has just informed the General that Don Joaquín Mosquera had been elected President of the Republic in Congress. The General also reminds the Vice-President-elect, General Domingo Caycedo that he has yet to receive a valid passport to leave the country. Bolívar leaves Bogotá with the few officials still faithful to him, including his most intimate aide-de-camp, José Palacios.

On the first night of the voyage, the General and his entourage consisting of José Palacios, five aide-de-camps, his clerks, and his dogs, stay at Facatativá. Throughout the journey, the General’s loss of prestige is evident and even surprises the General. Guards are placed at several locations to prevent confrontations with protesters. His illness, which has caused his physical deterioration, makes him unrecognizable. Furthermore, his aide-de-camp is constantly mistaken as the Liberator himself. The General constantly thinks about the past. One of the events he recalls is the September 25 assassination attempt on his life. This attempt on his life, he recalls, was sanctioned by Francisco de Paula Santander, who was once his great friend, but was unsuccessful as he was saved by Manuela Sáenz. Eventually, the General and his entourage end up in Honda, after many delays in their departure.

The General and his entourage arrive in Honda, where the Governor Posada Gutiérrez had arranged for three days of fiestas, but the first ruined because of the rain upon his arrival. On the last night in Honda, Bolívar returns home weakened following a night of dancing at the fiesta, and finds Miranda Lyndsay waiting for him. They had first met fifteen years ago in Kingston, Jamaica, when Miranda had saved him from a planned assassination attempt. She then asks the General to release the father of her children from his prison sentence. The next morning the General begins the voyage down the Magdalena River. Both his physical debilitation and pride are evident as he ascends and descends the slope to the dock, where he is in need of a sedan chair prepared for him but refuses to use it. As they begin their travel, the General decides to take on board a stray dog, which he names Bolívar, and rescued a German who had been abandoned on an island, whom they leave on a beach again the next day. The group stays one night in Puerto Real where the General’s disillusion is exemplified. He claims he saw a woman singing during the night as he was walking around the building; but all his aides-de-camp and the watchman searched and found not a single woman around the area.

Bolívar and his entourage arrive at the port of Mompox. Here, they are stopped by old vice regal police. Bolívar, unrecognizable, is asked for his passport and is not able to produce one. Eventually, the police find out whom he is and bring him into the port. The people still believe him to be President of Gran Colombia, and prepare banquets in his honour, not knowing he has resigned. However, these festivities are wasted due to his loss of strength and appetite. After several days, Bolívar and his entourage leave Mompox and set off to Turbaco.

Prior to arriving in Turbaco, the group spent a sleepless night in Barranca Nueva, which further weakened the General’s condition. He was advised to see a doctor but refused because he did not believe in doctors. The original plan was to continue to Cartagena the following day; however, the General was informed that there was no available ship bound for Europe at the port and his passport still had not arrived. While staying in the town, Bolívar received a visit from General Mariano Montilla and a few other friends. The deterioration of his health becomes increasingly evident as one of his visitors described his face as that of a dead man.[14] During his stay in Turbaco, the General also receives news that Cartagena has not recognized Mosquera as President; and was joined by General Daniel Florencio O’Leary.

On June 16, the General and his entourage set off for Cartagena where even more receptions are held in his honour. Throughout this time, he is surrounded by women, however, the General is too weak and incapable of engaging in sexual relations. Eventually during his stay, the General found out that his good friend and his chosen successor to his presidency, Field Marshall Sucre, had been ambushed, and assassinated. The news of his death affected him deeply.

While the General and his entourage are in Cartagena, General Rafael Urdaneta takes over the government in Bogotá and there are reports of demonstrations and riots in support of Bolívar’s return to power. They then depart from Cartagena, and arrive at the town of Soledad, where the General stays for over a month as his health further declines. It is here also, that the General agrees to see a physician for the first time, Dr. Hércules Gastelbondo.

In the end, Bolivar never leaves South America ending up in Santa Marta. He is extremely weak, being looked after by doctors, and surrounded by those closest to him. He dies sickly and in poverty, a shadow of the man that liberated much of the continent.

Characters

Major

Simón Bolívar, whose final days are the subject of The General in His Labyrinth

Simón Bolívar is the subject of this novel and is referred to as the General or the Liberator. His full name is General Simón José Antonio de la Santísima Trinidad Bolívar Palacios y Blanco. He is 46 years old[15] and slowly dying on his last journey to the port of Cartagena de Indias where he is to sail to Europe. "Bolívar is cast here not only as a victim but as an agent of Latin America's tragic political flaws."[1]

José Palacios is Bolívar's closest aide-de-camp in the book. He is allowed in the General's room at times when no one else is and constantly waits on the General. Even though he is almost always at the General's side, Palacios often repeats, "Only my master knows what my master in thinking."[16] He is six years younger than the General, was born a slave and had spent his entire life with the General.

Manuela Sáenz is the last woman with whom the General maintained a long-term relationship after the death of his wife, 27 years earlier. She was also his confidante, the guardian of his archives, his most impassioned reader, and a member of his staff with the rank of colonel. She is described as "the bold Quiteña who loved him but was not going to follow him to his death."[17] Bolívar leaves her behind but throughout his journey, he writes to her. She also attempts to write letters to him with information on the political situation but the mail carriers were instructed not to accept her letters. Manuela was married to Dr. James Thorne, who was an English physician twice her age. She eventually leaves her husband for Bolívar because of a letter written to her by the General pronouncing his unwavering love for her; which was in response to her announcement that she was leaving with her husband to London. Manuela had also warned the General of a plot to kill him and had eventually saved him from this assassination attempt involving Santander on September 25.[18]

General Francisco de Paula Santander was once a great friend of Bolívar's[19]; but then became his enemy and was living in exile in Paris after his involvement in an assassination attempt on the General on September 25.[20] Prior to this, Bolívar had appointed Santander as President of Colombia because he believed him to be an effective and brave soldier.[19] The General had also once described Santander as "[his] other self, and perhaps [his] better self".[19] Bolívar's secret name for Santander was "Cassandro" and occasionally referred to him by this name.[19]

Field Marshal Antonio José de Sucre is the Field Marsahl of Ayacucho and a very intimate friend of the General. He is described as "intelligent, methodical, shy, and superstitious".[21] He was married to and had a daughter with Doña Mariana Carcelén. The General had asked Sucre to succeed him as President of the Republic but he rejected. He was assassinated on June 4 1830 in Berruecos.[22]

Minor

The book is centered on the figure of Bolívar, but also includes a host of minor characters who are part of the General's travelling party, or whom he meets at one point or another on his journey. Colonel Belford Hinton Wilson, the son of Sir Robert Wilson and Bolívar's Irish aide-de-camp, is a member of Bolívar's entourage.[23] General José María Carreño is another member of Bolívar's entourage, whose right arm was amputated because of a wound from combat.[23] Carreño had a habit of talking and engaging in conversations while he slept and had once revealed a military secret in his sleep.[24] Fernando, one of the five men in Bolívar's entourage, is the General's nephew, son of his older brotherCite error: A <ref> tag is missing the closing </ref> (see the help page). and would be awakened by the General "at any hour to have him read aloud from a dull book or take notes on urgent extemporizations".[19] General Daniel Florencio O'Leary is also one of the General's aide-de-camps and a close friend of Manuela’s.[25] Bolívar thought O'Leary was "a great man, a great soldier, and a faithful friend"; but because he was always taking notes, the General became skeptical about him, believing that "there's nothing more dangerous than a written memoir."[26] He had also been sent by the General to seek reconciliation with the leader of Venezuela General José Antonio Páez; but he failed and was not forgiven by the General until fourteen months later.[27] Captain Agustín de Iturbide is Bolívar's Mexican aide-de-camp.[28] "The General had felt a distinct affection for him from the first time he saw him"[29] and was particularly fond of his singing.[30] Miranda Lyndsay is the only child of English diplomat, Sir London Lyndsay.[31] She had learned of a planned assassination attempt on the General and developed a plan to prevent it.[32] Don Joaquín Mosquera was elected as President of the Republic after Bolívar's resignation. In the book's final pages there are also a number of doctors who attend to the General in his ultimate stages.

Major themes

Politics

Reviewing The General in His Labyrinth, the novelist Margaret Atwood draws attention to the context of its publication. The novel was published in 1989, when empires such as the Soviet Union were disintegrating and the political map was being radically redrawn.[33] The novel itself is about a man at the end of his life, who has seen his revolution and dream of a united Latin America fail. Atwood notes that "the tale of Bolívar is exemplary, not just for his own turbulent age but for ours as well. Revolutions have a long history of eating their progenitors".[33]

Bolívar’s anti-Americanism reflects a sentiment which is still widely reported in Latin America. García Márquez has Bolívar tell his aide that the United States is "omnipotent and terrible, and its tale of liberty will end in a plague of miseries for us all."[34] With the end of the Cold War, the modern United States had never seemed so "omnipotent." As Franklin Foer reports, the current Venezuelan President and staunch antagonist of the US government, Hugo Chávez, has said that The General in His Labyrinth is his favorite book.[35]

Figural labyrinth

The labyrinth of the title refers to "a series of labyrinths that are contingent upon matters of history, geography, and biography ... that consistently and conclusively result in a dead end",[36] in this case, the General’s own death. The General’s final voyage along the Magdalena River allows for the doubling back and forth from one location to another that leads him and his followers nowhere. His life ends in the same manner, as he is reduced to only a trace of what he once was. The labyrinth does not give way to happiness, instead, it results in madness from constant pondering over the past and the future that will never come into exist. This novel suggests an existential endless wandering that accommodates one’s physical presence but affords no hope of spiritual accommodation. "The Labyrinth mirrors the wanderings and travails of the hero in search for meaning and resolution to the vicissitudes of life"[36] such as that in the ancient Greek myth of the Minotaur.[37]

The labyrinth can be related to the concept of a circle, where one gets nowhere as one twists and turns or goes back and forth between walls and circles. "Just as the Magdalena River winds its way to the sea, Bolívar is drawn through the darkening maze of life, until at the end, just before his final moments, he curses his inability to find a way out of the labyrinth."[1] Thus, the General’s final journey is a described as "a hopeless affair" or a "blind man’s journey".[38]

The General’s physical body manifests the labyrinth in various concrete ways. The General’s doctor observes “everything that enters the body, adds weight, and everything that leaves it is debased.”[39] His body is seen as a "labyrinth coming to a literal dead end".[40] The General’s labyrinth is also apparent through geographical and architectural expression. The country’s destiny is realized as a break up, a folding of north into south. There is hope in the seas, for on the other side of the sea is a new world and a new life, but the closer the General is to Colombia, the smaller the chance of him moving on. [41] Buildings and houses are also "daunting, reverberating (if not exactly reiterating) with the echoes of a bloody past".[41] As with almost every other location in the novel, the General had been there before leading to the notion that his world is a labyrinth that allows one to cross its winding paths without end with no way out. Each place belongs to the past as well as to the present. The General’s Labyrinth blurs the lines of being lost in a man-made world and wandering in the natural world.[41]

Fate and love

Bolívar's fate is known from the beginning, García Márquez constantly utilizes sentences which foreshadow this ending. For instance, a clock that is stopped at seven minutes past one appears repeatedly in the novel, foreshadowing the exact time of Bolívar's death. This idea of fate can be closely associated to the ancient Greeks as demonstrated in the epigraph, which easily could have been written by Homer, Aeschylus, or Sophocles.[1] The epigraph in question comes from a letter from Bolívar to Santander: "It seems that the devil controls the business of my life."[42] As Palencia-Roth observes, the term used for devil here is demonio rather than the more familiar diablo. Demonio comes from the Greek word daimon, which can equally mean divine power, fate, or destiny, further showing how the General succumbs to his fate and accepts his death as destiny.[1]

García Márquez "portrays love mostly through Bolívar's memory."[1] Within the novel, García Márquez mentions another woman every few pages, but many of the women in the novel were invented by García Márquez. "Their very presence ... allows a labyrinthine exploration of his life before his final journey."[1] Bolívar had a reputation of a womanizer and there have even been books written about this; but as seen in this novel during the last seven months of his life, the General could no longer engage in the activities that had given him that reputation.[1] Palencia-Roth suggests that García Márquez uses love as a barometer of the General's heart and health. Although Bolívar is generally thought to have died from tuberculosis, Palencia-Roth believes that for García Márquez the General dies from the lack of love.[1] "Despised by many of his countrymen, abandoned by all but a few aides and associates, left – during the final seven months of his life – without even the companionship of his longtime mistress Manuela Saenz, Bolívar had no choice but to die of a broken heart."[1]

Symbology of numbers and rituals

Numerology is an important symbolic aspect of the novel. The book is divided into eight chapters, almost all of equal length, which represents the eight-year-long love affair between the General and Manuela Sáenz. Furthermore, the General’s last hours are marked by the metaphor of an octagonal clock.[43] Allusions to the number three are even more prominent in the novel. As Isabel Rodríguez Vergara notes, the number three is repeated 21 times throughout the book; and is said to occupy a vital place in the symbology of the Catholic Mass, as Mircea Eliade found [44] "In the novel it represents a symbolic sacrifice aimed at redeeming humankind – that of Bolívar, a misunderstood redeemer sacrificed by his own people."[43]

Rodríguez Vergara suggests that the General is like a supernatural being in that throughout the novel, he is simultaneously dying and being surrounded by symbolic circumstances such as rain, fiestas, and the plague. The novel begins with Bolívar immersed in purifying waters, in a state of ecstasy and meditation that suggests a priestly ritual. One of the women whom the General sleeps with, Queen Marie Louise, is described as a virgin with the profile of an idol – an allusion to the Virgin Mary. The General rides a mule into the last towns on his journey towards death, similar to how Christ rode a mule into Jerusalem.[43]

As René Girard suggests, the constant appearance of rain in the novel is one of the purifying rituals that the community must subject to in order to wash away the contagion of violence.[44] Rodríguez Vergara notes that the allusions to fiestas are another ritual of purification; fiestas are used to honour the General when he arrives at a town, but at other times, political demonstrations against the General are misinterpreted for a fiesta. "Besides showing how information is manipulated – a point made several times in the novel – this depicts an atmosphere where fiesta and war are synonymous."[43]

In the novel, Bolívar dies of mysterious and unknown causes, causing the people to burn his belongings in fear of catching his illness. Rodríguez Vergara further suggests that the General dies of both biological and moral reasons. "Bolívar was sacrificed as a scapegoat to purge the guilt of the community."[43]

Postmodernism

Carlos J. Alonso argues that the novel is essentially a therapeutic devise, designed to help move Latin America past it’s problematic experience of modernity. Given the novel is almost entirely centered around Bolivar’s slow death, “…one could conclude, that the novel’s ultimate intention is to force us to look this death in the eye; that is, to impose on us the direct knowledge of the horror it entails."[45] In doing this, Alonso explains that the reader is forced to “enter into a new relation with Bolivar’s death;” More specifically, The reader is meant to pass from “a melancholy relationship vis-5-vis the figure of Bolivar to a relationship that has the therapeutic qualities of mourning instead.”[46]

Alonso explains that the melancholy mourning distinction he invokes comes from Freudian theory. Both activities are methods of dealing with loss, where “the libido constructs an image of it as a defence against its absence; hence, the love for the lost object or being becomes love for an introspected image of the disappeared Object.”[45] With proper mourning, the libido slowly becomes less concerned with this image of the lost object, and eventually it releases it. With melancholy however the libido refuses to let go of this introspected image. The object is kept alive as a representation, but at the same time the object is repudiated for having abandoned them. This results in the “self-destructive and paralyzing behaviour that characterizes the melancholy being.”[46]

Latin America's history and cultural existence Alonso suggests, began with the loss of Bolivar’s dream of a united continent, and it has been under the melancholic shadow of this original loss that “Spanish America's cultural existence has developed to the present day.”[47] Thus, by making us go back to the origin of moderninty in Latin America, and forcing us to confront it’s death in the most horrific way, Marquez is compelling us to move from melancholy to mourning, “…so that the phantom of the lost object of modernity may cease to rule the libidinal economy of Spanish American cultural discourse and historical life.”[47]

Challenging History

Gabriel Marquez comments on the state of history by drawing attention to way history is written, according to Isabel Borland. The novel recreates a time in Simon Bolivar’s life that has no historical precedent, as there is no record of his last 14 days of life. In Marquez’ account we observe Bolivar intimately, seeing his human qualities. Borland explains that “…this personal and anonymous representation of a national hero becomes Garcia Marquez’ confrontation of Bolivar’s official history in order to question its exclusive claim to truth.”[48]

Borland then notes how ironically, in the “My Thanks” section of the novel, “Garcia Marquez is in fact exploiting the very methodology he seeks to criticize.”[48] In this section Marquez thoroughly discusses his own methodology, giving the impression that what he wrote was more historical than fictional. Borland explains, that “…by assuming the identity of a historian, Garcia Marquez seeks to undertake his exploration of historical knowledge from within.”(pg.441) Given that the novel itself is a critique of official history, this section then, where Marquez attempts to portray his work as real history, should be see as a warning to readers. That is, one must always be “…self-conscious of their narratives.”[49] Further, Boland continues, the section serves to “…remind us that a claim to truth is not the property of any text; rather it is the result of how a historian (as a reader) interprets the facts.”[49]

Borland also argues that in The General in His Labyrinth, Marquez uses an oral style of narration in order to confront the methods of official historians. The narration can be considered an oral account in that it “consists of the multiple, often contradictory, stories and meanings of the day-to-day verbal interactions of living peoples.”[49] Borland explains “the orality of any given culture, residing in the unwritten tales of its peoples, possesses a spontaneity and liveliness which is lost once this culture commits its tales to writing.”[49] Thus, the oral style of narration, adds a truthfulness which official history would've lacked. Borland concludes that Marquez intention is to suggest new ways of conceptualizing the past, and in particular recommends that we should be “listening to the unwritten voices that make up history”[50]

Comparisons with other García Márquez novels

Palencia-Roth suggests that this novel is a "labyrinthine summation ... of García Márquez’s long-standing obsessions and ever-present topics: love, death, solitude, power, fate".[1] In an interview published in the Colombian weekly Revista Semana on March 20 1989, García Márquez tells María Elvira Samper, "At bottom, I have written only one book, the same one that circles round and round, and continues on."[51]

Like the Patriarch in García Márquez’s The Autumn of the Patriarch, “Bolívar was a dictator ... with the power to give absolute commands which were actually carried out.”[1] Bolívar was only once called by his name in this novel; and similarly, the general was also unnamed in The Autumn of the Patriarch.[52] Bolívar also draws similarities with Colonel Aureliano Buendía in One Hundred Years of Solitude. "Like Colonel Aureliano Buendía, Bolívar escapes numerous assassination attempts, seems to lead a charmed life, and is destined to die of natural causes."[1] Both characters believe the wars they have waged have been fruitless and overwhelming. It is easy to recognize Bolívar as the literary descendant of the other military men of García Márquez's works, the Patriarch and Colonel Aureliano Buendía, whom were lost in the solitude of the labyrinth of power.[52] The General resembles not only the Buendia’s in One Hundred Years of Solitude in his belief that life is controlled by fate; but also in this way resembles the character Santiago Nasar in Chronicle of a Death Foretold.[1]

"The General in His Labyrinth is written in an elegiac mode, and critics have commented on its lack of humor."[1] Its dark mood and somber message is like that of The Autumn of the Patriarch. Love is a common theme between Love in the Time of Cholera and The General in His Labyrinth, but the latter is considered a tragedy. These two novels have been used to demonstrate the range of García Márquez’s work and the empathetic flexibility of his mind and heart.[1]

Isabel Borland in her essay The Task of the Historian in El general en su labertino claims that “…while El general en su labertino is in many ways a continuation of Garcia Marquez’ criticism of Latin America’s official history seen in his earlier works, the novel contrasts sharply with his previous fictions.”[53] In One Hundred Years of Solitude manuscripts serve as a literary metaphor of the message telling the reader that “…only in self-understanding can we meet the challenge of the Latin American predicament.”.”[53] In Chronicle of a death Foretold according to Borland, the texts Narrator challenges the truth of official language. The General in his Labyrinth however “…differs from these [earlier works] in employing narrative strategies which seek to answer in a much more overt and didactic fashion questions that the novel poses about history.”.”[53]

Style

Memorial to Simón Bolívar at the Quinta de San Pedro Alejandrino just outside Santa Marta, Colombia. The final pages of The General in His Labyrinth are set here.

Critics consider García Márquez's book in terms of the historical novel, but equivocate over whether the label is appropriate. Selden Rodman's review observes that this work is "wholly devoted to research quoting Bolívar’s last thoughts on everything from life and love to his chronic constipation and dislike of tobacco smoke".[54] Due to the extensive research involved in the book, Rodman hesitates in calling it a "novel". Margaret Atwood claims that it would be unjust to call it a historical novel, as García Márquez does not just mix fictional characters with real ones. She notes "the element of the real is front and center ... Most people in it actually lived and most of the incidents actually took place."[33] At the same time, for reviewer Robert Adams, García Márquez has "improved on history".[55]

According to Donald L. Shaw, The General in His Labyrinth is a "New Historical Novel", a genre that he argues crosses between Boom, Post-Boom, and Postmodernist fiction in Latin American literature. Shaw observes that "New Historical Novels tend either to retell historical events from an unconventional perspective, but one which preserves their intelligibility, or to question the very possibility of making sense of the past at all".[56] He believes this novel belongs to the first category, as it retells the story of Bolívar's final journey down the Magdalena river.[56] García Márquez presents his own interpretation events, even while presenting an historical account, which also accords with the genre, according to Shaw.[57]

David Bushnell, writing in The Hispanic American Historical Review, points out that the work is less a pure historical account than others suggest. García Márquez’s Bolívar is a man "who wanders naked through the house, suffers constipation, uses foul language, and much more besides".[58] He argues that documentation does not support many of these details. Bushnell suggests, however, that the fact that the novel is not entirely historically accurate is not necessarily a point that distinguishes it from the work of professional historians. The main difference, Bushnell believes, is that Garcia Marquez's work "is far more readable" than a pure history.[59]

In an interview with María Elvira Samper, García Márquez has admitted that his portrayal of Bolívar was also a portrayal of himself. He says that he identifies with Bolívar in many ways and that their way of controlling anger is the same.[51] He further suggests that their philosophical views are similar, since neither of them "pays much attention to death, because that distracts one from the most important thing: what one does in life".[51]

Reception

Critic Ilan Stavans observes that, given an abundance of historical information on the topic and a time period that is unappealing to many in the English-speaking world, The General in His Labyrinth was relatively poorly received in the United States.[60] Isabel Borland however, in the essay The Task of the Historian in El general en su laberinto notes that while in latin america the book recieved mixed reviews, ranging from "outrage to unqaulified praise...critics in the United States have largely celebrated Garcia Marquez' portait of this national hero and considered it a tour de force."[53]

In South America, where some Venezuelan and Colombian politicians believed it was profane, the novel stirred up controversy.[60] They accused García Márquez of "defaming the larger-than-life reputation of a historical figure who, during the nineteenth century, struggled to unite the vast Hispanic world".[60] As reviewer Tim Padgett puts it, García Márquez's portrait of the General met with a "a howl of outrage" from many Latin American politicians and intellectuals when the book was published because its portrayal of the General is not the saintly image long relied on by many.[61] Mexico's ambassador to Austria, Francisco Cuevas Cancino, wrote a spiteful letter widely published in Mexico City regarding his dissatisfaction with the portrayal of Bolívar. He states: "The novel is plagued with errors of fact, conception, fairness, understanding of the [historical] moment and ignorance of its consequences ... It has served the enemies of [Latin] America, who care only that they can now denigrate Bolívar, and with him all of us."[62] Even the novel's admirers, such as Arturo Uslar Pietri, dean of letters in Venezuela, worried that some facts were stretched. But, Padgett continues, for García Márquez, Latin America has to discover the General’s labyrinth if it is to come to terms with its own maze of problems.[61]

More positively, Nelson Bocaranda, a Venezuelan TV commentator, believed that the novel was a tonic for Latin culture: "people here saw a Bolívar who is a man of flesh and bones just like themselves". Mexican author, Carlos Fuentes, agrees with Bocaranda saying: "What comes across beautifully and poignantly in this book is a man dealing with the unknown [world of democratic ideas]".[63] García Márquez truly portrays a ridiculous figure trapped in a labyrinth, magnifying the General's defects, and presenting an image of the General contrary to what is instilled in classrooms. However, it is clear that the General is an idealist and political theorist who predicted many problems that would obstruct Latin American advancement in the future. The General was aware of the racial and social friction in Latin American society, feared debt, and warned against economic irresponsibility. He further warned his aide-de-camp, Iturbide, against the United States, which he believed may become overly involved in the internal affairs of Latin America.[64]

In regards to the translation of the novel, novelist and critic Barbara Mujica comments that the book's English translator, Edith Grossman, fully captures the multiple levels of meaning of the text, as well as the modulations in tone of García Márquez.[64] García Márquez himself has admitted that he likes his novels better in English.[61]

Perhaps most pleasingly for the author, García Márquez, himself, Alvaro Mutis, to whom the novel is dedicated, is said to be very fond of the book.[60]

Publication history

The original Spanish version of The General in His Labyrinth was published simultaneously in Argentina, Colombia, Mexico, and Spain in 1989.[65] The first American edition was listed as a best seller in The New York Times the following year.[65]

The novel has been translated into many languages since its first publication in Spanish as detailed by Sfeir de González.[66]

  • 1989, Arabic: Al-Jiniral fi matahatihi. Translated by Salih Ilmani. Nicosia, Cyprus: IBAL. (287 pages)
  • 1989, German: Der General in seinem Labyrinth: Roman. Translated by Dagmar Ploetz. Köln, Germany: Kiepenheuer & Witsch. (359 pages)
  • 1990, English: The General in His Labyrinth. Translated by Edith Grossman. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. (285 pages)
  • 1990, Basque: Jenerala bere laberintoan. Translated by Xabier Mendiguren. Donostia-San Sebastián, Spain: Eikar. (279 pages)
  • 1991, Hebrew: General be-mavokh. Translated by Ritah Meltser and Amatsyah Porat. Tel Aviv, Israel: Am Oved. (205 pages)
  • 1991, Japanese: Meikyu no Shogun. Translated by Kimura Eiichi. Tokyo, Japan: Shinchosha. (323 pages)
  • 1991, Persian: Zhiniral dar hazar tu-yi khvad. Translated by Hushang Asadi, based on the English version. Tihran, Iran: Kitab-i Mahnaz. (237 pages)
  • 1992, 1996, Italian: Il generale nel suo labirinto. Translated by Angelo Morino. Milan, Italy: Mondadori. (286 pages)
  • 1993, Polish: General w labiryncie. Translated by Zofia Wasitowa. Warsaw, Polan: Pánstwowy Instytut Wydawniczy. (285 pages)
  • 1995, Chinese: Mi gong zhong di jiang jun. Translated by Chengdong Yin. Taipei, China: Yun chen wen hua shi ye. (321 pages)
  • 1996, Dutch: De generaal in zijn labyrint. Translated by Mieke Westra. Amsterdam, The Netherlands: Melenhoff, 3rd ed.. (317 pages)
  • 1999, Vietnamese: Tu'o'ng quân giu'a mê hôn trân. Translated by Trung Đu'c Nguyên. Hà nôi, Vietnam: Hôi Nhà Van. (394 pages)
  • 2000, Albanian: Gjenerali në labirintin e vet:Roman. Translated by Nasi Lera. Tiranë, Albania: Mësonjëtorja e Parë. (305 pages)

See also

Notes

  1. ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q Palencia-Roth 1991
  2. ^ Gertel 1992, p. 25
  3. ^ Ruch 2007
  4. ^ Bell-Villada 2006, p. 170
  5. ^ a b García Márquez 1990, p. 271
  6. ^ Bell-Villada 2006, p. 174
  7. ^ a b Plimpton 2003, p. 160
  8. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 272
  9. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 274
  10. ^ Holling
  11. ^ Hasbrouck 1928, p. 19
  12. ^ Lynch 2006, p. 43
  13. ^ Lynch 2006, p. 259–279
  14. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 142
  15. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 4
  16. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 14
  17. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 6
  18. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 54
  19. ^ a b c d e García Márquez 1990, p. 52
  20. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 53
  21. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 18
  22. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 186
  23. ^ a b García Márquez 1990, p. 42
  24. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 128
  25. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 149
  26. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 154
  27. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 162
  28. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 71
  29. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 89
  30. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 90
  31. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 76
  32. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 81
  33. ^ a b c Atwood 1990
  34. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 223
  35. ^ Foer 2006, p. 105
  36. ^ a b Danow 1997, p. 101
  37. ^ Danow 1997, p. 102
  38. ^ Danow 1997, p. 103
  39. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 216
  40. ^ Danow 1997, p. 105
  41. ^ a b c Danow 1997, p. 106
  42. ^ "Parece que el demonio dirige las cosas de mi vida"
  43. ^ a b c d e Rodríguez Vergara
  44. ^ a b qtd. Rodríguez Vergara
  45. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 257
  46. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 258
  47. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 260
  48. ^ a b Borland 1993, p. 440
  49. ^ a b c d Borland 1993, p. 441
  50. ^ Borland 1993, p. 445
  51. ^ a b c qtd. Palencia-Roth 1991
  52. ^ a b Pellón 2001, p. 214
  53. ^ a b c d Borland 1993, p. 439
  54. ^ Rodman 1990, p. 88
  55. ^ Adams 1990
  56. ^ a b Shaw 2002, p. 136
  57. ^ Shaw 2002, p. 138
  58. ^ Bushnell 1990, p. 200
  59. ^ Bushnell 1990, p. 201
  60. ^ a b c d Stavans 1993, p. 69
  61. ^ a b c Padgett 1990, p. 70
  62. ^ qtd. Padgett 1990, p. 70
  63. ^ qtd. Padgett 1990, p. 70
  64. ^ a b Mujica 1991, p. 60
  65. ^ a b Sfeir de González 2003, p. xxiii
  66. ^ Sfeir de González 2003, pp. 49–50

References

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