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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 title'El 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 leader Simón Bolívar, written by the Nobel Prize-winning Colombian 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 dictator novel about a continental hero, "despair, sickness, and death inevitably win out over love, health, and life".[1] Breaking with the traditional heroic portrayal of Bolívar El Libertador, García Márquez depicts a pathetic protagonist, a prematurely aged man who is physically ill and mentally exhausted.[2] The story explores the labyrinth of Bolívar's life through the narrative of his memories.

Following the success of other of his works such as One Hundred Years of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera, García Márquez decided to write about the "Great Liberator" after reading an unfinished novel about Bolívar by his friend Álvaro Mutis. He borrowed the setting—Bolívar'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encompassed the extensive memoirs of Bolívar's Irish aide-de-camp, Daniel Florencio O'Leary, as well as numerous other historical documents and repeated consultation with academics, García Márquez published his novel about the last seven months of Bolívar's life.

Its mixture of genres makes The General in His Labyrinth difficult to classify, and commentators disagree where it lies on 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 believed that García Márquez's novel damaged the reputation of one of the region's most important historic figures and portrayed a negative image to the outside world. However, others saw The General in His Labyrinth as a tonic for Latin American culture and a challenge to the region to deal with its problems.

Background

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 had never finished it. At the time, García Márquez was interested in writing about the Magdalena River because he knew the area intimately from his childhood.[3] Two years after reading El Último Rostro, García Márquez asked Mutis for his permission to write a book on Bolívar's last voyage.[4]

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.

García Márquez believed that most of the information available on Bolívar was one-dimensional: "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."[5] In the epilogue to the novel, García Márquez writes that he researched the book for two years; the task was difficult, both because of his lack of experience of conducting historical research,[6] and the lack of documentary evidence for the events of the final period of Bolívar's life.[4]

García Márquez researched a wide variety of historical documents, including Bolívar's letters, nineteenth-century newspapers, and Daniel Florencio O'Leary's 34-volume memoirs. He engaged the help of various experts, among them geographer Gladstone Oliva; historian and fellow Colombian Eugenio Gutiérrez Celys, who had co-written a book called Bolívar Día a Día with historian Fabio Puyo; and astronomer Jorge Perezdoval—García Márquez used an inventory drawn up by Perezdoval to describe which nights Bolívar spent under a full moon. García Márquez also worked closely with Antonio Bolívar Goyanes, a distant relative of Simón Bolívar, during the extensive editing of the book.[7]

Historical context

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 date; only Cuba and Puerto Rico remained under Spanish rule until the Spanish–American War of 1898.

Within a few decades of Christopher Columbus's landing on the coast of what is now Venezuela in 1498, South America had been effectively conquered by Spain and Portugal. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, several factors affected 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.[8][9] The colonies were virtually cut off from Spain, and the American and French Revolutions inspired many creoles—American-born descendants of Spanish settlers—to take advantage of Spanish weakness. As a result, Latin America was run by independent juntas and colonial self-governments.[10]

The early 1800s saw the first attempts at securing liberation from Spain, which were led in northern South America by Bolívar. His dream of uniting the Spanish American nations under one central government was almost achieved. However, shortly after the South American colonies became independent of Spain, problems developed in the capitals, and civil wars were sparked in some provinces; Bolívar lost many of his supporters and fell ill while opposition to his presidency continued to increase. In 1830, he resigned as president of the Republic of Colombia.[11]

Plot summary

  The journey taken by Simón Bolívar as described by García Márquez, starting at Santa Fe de Bogotá and ending with his death at Santa Marta.

The novel is written from the third-person point of view with constant flashbacks to specific events in the General's life. It 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, intending to leave Colombia for Europe. Following his resignation as President of Gran Colombia the people of the lands he liberated have now turned against him, scrawling anti-Bolívar graffiti and even throwing waste at him. The General 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. At the end of the first chapter, Bolívar is referred to by name for the only time in the novel.

On the first night of the voyage, the General stays at Facatativá with his entourage, which consists of José Palacios, five aide-de-camps, his clerks, and his dogs. Throughout the journey, the General's loss of prestige is evident and the downturn in his fortunes surprises even the General himself. His unidentified illness, which has caused a physical deterioration, makes him unrecognizable, and his aide-de-camp is constantly mistaken for the Liberator. One of the events the General recalls while at Facatativá is the September 25 assassination attempt on his life—an event to which he refers to repeatedly throughout the novel.

After many delays the General and his party arrive in Honda, where the Governor, Posada Gutiérrez, has arranged for three days of fiestas. On his last night in Honda, the General returns home after a fiesta, and finds Miranda Lyndsay, an old friend of the General's, waiting for him. She has learned of an assasination plot against him that evening, and was there to rescue him from the assasination atempt. The next morning, the General begins the voyage down the Magdalena River. Both his physical debilitation and pride are evident as he negotiates the slope to the dock: he is in need of a sedan chair but refuses to use it. The group stays one night in Puerto Real, where the General claims he sees a woman singing during the night. His aides-de-camp and the watchman conduct a search, but they do not find a single woman in the vicinity.

The General and his entourage arrive at the port of Mompox. Here, they are stopped by police, who fail to recognize the General. They ask for his passport, but he is unable to produce one. Eventually, the police discover his identity and escort him into the port. The people still believe him to be the President of Gran Colombia and prepare banquets in his honor. However, these festivities are wasted on him due to his lack of strength and appetite. After several days, the General and his entourage set off for Turbaco.

The group spend a sleepless night in Barranca Nueva before they arrive in Turbaco. Their original plan was to continue to Cartagena the following day, but the General is informed that there is no available ship bound for Europe from the port and that his passport still has not arrived. While staying in the town, he receives a visit from General Mariano Montilla and a few other friends. The deterioration of his health becomes increasingly evident—one of his visitors describes his face as that of a dead man.[12] In Turbaco, the General is joined by General Daniel Florencio O'Leary and he receives news that Cartagena has not recognized Mosquera, the man who became Colombian President after the General's resignation, as President.

The General finally receives his passport and two days later, he and his entourage set off for Cartagena, where more receptions are held in his honor. Throughout this time, he is surrounded by women but is too weak to engage in sexual relations. The General is deeply affected when he hears that his good friend and preferred successor for the presidency, Field Marshall Sucre, has been ambushed and assassinated.

It is told to the president by one of his aide-de-campes that General Rafael Urdaneta has taken over the government in Bogotá and there are reports of demonstrations and riots in support of a return to power by Bolívar. The General's group travel to the town of Soledad, where he stays for over a month, his health declining further. In Soledad the General agrees to see a physician for the first time.

The General never leaves South America, one of the excuses being that he required a new passport because the one he received was useless. He finishes his journey in Santa Marta, too weak to continue and with only his doctor and his closest aides by his side. He dies in poverty, a shadow of the man who liberated much of the continent.

Characters

Major characters

Simón Bolívar's final days are the subject of The General in His Labyrinth.

Simón Bolívar

In this novel, Bolívar is referred to only as either the General or the Liberator; but his full name is General Simón José Antonio de la Santísima Trinidad Bolívar Palacios y Blanco. At the beginning of the novel, he is 46 years old[13] and slowly dying on his last journey to the port of Cartagena de Indias where he is set 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] It has been said that in reality, his fortunes began to decline in 1824 after the Sucre's victory in Ayacucho. He was in fact prematurely aged but "love-affairs have been alleged as a cause of decline".[14] However, it was not proven that Bolívar had been any more amorous or sensual than the average sensual man. The novel follows the fact that he did not marry again after the death of his wife, María Teresa Rodríguez del Toro y Alayza. "It is sometimes said that great soldiers are born, not made. Bolívar certainly was not born one."[15] He began his service in the militia with not much success but his dedication to the army above other things made the difference. The officers that admired him and stayed with him had to deal with his bad temper, which is another detail that is evident in the book. O'Leary describes this by saying, "His imperious and impatient temperament would never tolerate the smallest delay in the execution of an order."[15]

José Palacios

The novel begins with the name of José Palacios, Bolívar's closest aide-de-camp in the book. He constantly waits on the General, and at certain times, he alone is allowed in the General's room. Even though he is usually at the General's side, Palacios often repeats, "Only my master knows what my master in thinking."[16] Born a slave, he is six years younger than the General, and has spent his entire life in his service. Throughout the novel, Palacios provides the General with clarifications or reminders of dates and events during the General's time of disillusion.

Manuela Sáenz

Manuela Sáenz is the General's long-time lover, his last since the death of his wife, 27 years earlier. She is 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 news of the political situation, but the mail carriers have been instructed not to accept her letters. Manuela is married to Dr. James Thorne, an English physician twice her age. She left her husband for Bolívar after he wrote declaring his undying love for her as she was about to leave for London with her husband. Manuela had also warned the General of Santander's plot to assassinate him.[18]

General Francisco de Paula Santander

Francisco de Paula Santander had once been a great friend of Bolívar's.[19] He later became his enemy 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 he occasionally referred to him by this name.[19]

Field Marshal Antonio José de Sucre

In the novel, Antonio José de Sucre, the Field Marshal of Ayacucho, is an intimate friend of the General. He is described as "intelligent, methodical, shy, and superstitious".[21] The Field Marshal is married to and has a daughter with Doña Mariana Carcelén. In the first chapter of the novel, The General asks Sucre to succeed him as President of the Republic, but he rejected the idea. One of the reasons that Sucre gives the General for refusing his request is because he wanted only to live his life for his family. It is also here at the beginning of the novel that his death is foreshadowed. Sucre tells the General that he plans on celebrating the Feast of Saint Anthony in Quito with his family. It is then on June 4 1830, on his way back to Quito, that he is assassinated in Berruecos.[22]

Minor characters

The book revolves around 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 on his journey. Colonel Belford Hinton Wilson, the son of Sir Robert Wilson, is Bolívar's Irish aide-de-camp.[23] Another member of the General's entourage is General José María Carreño, whose right arm was amputated after a combat wound.[23] Carreño has a habit of talking and engaging in conversations while he sleeps and once revealed a military secret as a result.[24] Fernando, one of the five men in Bolívar's entourage, is the General's nephew, the son of his older brother.Cite error: A <ref> tag is missing the closing </ref> (see the help page). The General wakes him "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 Sáenz.[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] O'Leary had been sent by the General to seek reconciliation with the leader of Venezuela, General José Antonio Páez; but he failed, and the General did not forgive him until 14 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 plot to assassinate the General and developed a plan to prevent it.[32] Don Joaquín Mosquera has been elected as President of the Republic after Bolívar's resignation.

Major themes

Politics

In the General in His Labyrinth, Simon Bolivar is used to present many of the Garcia Marquez’s own political views. For example, the scene where Bolivar responds to the French diplomat, Alvarez Borland points out how the content of this speech closely reflects Marquez’s 1982 Nobel Address. [33] In the scene the diplomat is critical of the barbarism in Latin America, and they way they are attempting to achieve independence. Bolivar replies by essentially pointing the fact Europe had centuries to progress to it’s current state, and that south America should be left to have it’s “…Middle Ages in peace.” [34]

Reviewing The General in His Labyrinth, the novelist Margaret Atwood draws attention to another instance of Marquez using Bolivar to raise certain political issues. 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" [35] Atwood points out the current relevance of this sentiment by noting how “…the patterns of Latin American politics, and of United States intervention in them, have not changed much in 160 years.” [36]

Atwood also suggests that Marquez's portrayal of Bolivar near the end of his life, is perhaps meant to tell us about the current political environment. 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. The novel was published in 1989, when the Soviet Union was disintegrating and the political map was being radically redrawn. Atwood suggests that Marquez’s tale of Bolivar is designed as a lesson “…for our own turbulent age…Revolutions have a long history of eating their progenitors.”[37]

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"[38]—in this case, the General's own death. His 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 spectre 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 a future that will never come into existence. The 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",[38] recalling the role of the Labyrinth in the ancient Greek myth of the Minotaur.[39]

The General's body manifests the labyrinth in various ways. His doctor observes that "everything that enters the body, adds weight, and everything that leaves it is debased."[40] His body is seen as a "labyrinth coming to a literal dead end".[41] The General's labyrinth is also expressed in geographical and architectural elements. 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 less the chance of him moving on.[42] Buildings and houses are also "daunting, reverberating (if not exactly reiterating) with the echoes of a bloody past".[42] The notion that the General's world is a labyrinth is emphasized as he continually returns to cities and towns that he has previously been to at some point in his life. 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.[42]

Fate and love

Bolívar's fate is known from the beginning, and García Márquez constantly uses images which foreshadow this ending. For instance, a clock stuck at seven minutes past one, the exact time of the General's death, appears repeatedly in the novel. This idea of fate is demonstrated in the epigraph,[1] which comes from a letter written by the historical Bolívar to General Santander on 4 August 1823: "It seems that the devil controls the business of my life."[43] As Palencia-Roth points out, the word used for devil here is demonio rather than the more familiar diablo. Demonio derives from the Greek word daimon, which can equally mean divine power, fate, or destiny. Accordingly, the General succumbs to his fate and accepts his death as destiny.[1]

The theme of love is also central to the novel. Bolívar had a reputation as a womanizer, and books have been written on his philandering; but as depicted 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] García Márquez mentions a woman every few pages, many of whom are his own invention, exploring love through the General's memories. Palencia-Roth notes that the presence of these women "allows a labyrinthine exploration of his life before his final journey"[1] and 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]

Numbers and religious symbols

Numbers are an important symbolic aspect of the novel. The book is divided into eight chapters, almost all of equal length, which represent the eight-year love affair between the General and Manuela Sáenz. The General's last hours are marked by an octagonal clock.[44] Allusions to the number three are even more common in the novel. As García Márquez scholar Isabel Rodríguez Vergara notes, the number three—the Trinity which occupies a vital place in the symbology of the Catholic Mass—is repeated 21 times throughout the book. She quotes Mircea Eliade: "In the novel it represents a symbolic sacrifice aimed at redeeming humankind—that of Bolívar, a misunderstood redeemer sacrificed by his own people." [45]

Rodríguez Vergara observes that the General is like a supernatural being, 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 with whom the General sleeps, 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 Christ's entry into Jerusalem.[44] He dies of mysterious and unknown causes, and the people burn his belongings in fear of catching his illness. In Rodríguez Vergara's view, "Bolívar was sacrificed as a scapegoat to purge the guilt of the community."[44]

René Girard has interpreted the recurrence of rain in the novel as one of the purifying rituals the community must undergo in order to wash away the contagion of violence.[45] The fiestas may represent another ritual of purification and also symbolise war.[44] Fiestas are held to honour the General when he arrives at a town, but at other times, political demonstrations against the General are mistaken for a fiesta. According to Rodriguez Vergara, this shows how "information is manipulated" and "depicts an atmosphere where fiesta and war are synonymous."[44]

Postmodernism

Latin American cultural theorist Carlos J. Alonso argues that the novel is essentially a therapeutic device, designed to help move Latin America past its problematic experience of modernity. Given the novel is almost entirely centered around Bolívar'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."[46] Alonso explains that the reader is forced to "enter into a new relation with Bolívar's death. More specifically, The reader is meant to pass from "a melancholy relationship vis-a-vis the figure of Bolívar to a relationship that has the therapeutic qualities of mourning instead."[47]

To provide a better explanation of how the novel attempts to force the reader to deal with death and mourning, Alonso explains that the melancholy mourning distinction 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."[46] 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."[47]

Latin America's history and culture, Alonso suggests, began with the loss of Bolívar's dream of a united continent and has developed under that melancholy shadow ever since.[48] Thus, by making us go back to the origin of modernity in Latin America, and forcing us to confront its death in the most horrific way, García Márquez 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."[48]

Challenging history

García Márquez comments on the nature of historical fact by drawing attention to the way history is written.[33] The novel recreates a time in Bolívar's life that has no historical precedent, as there is no record of the last 14 days of his life. In García Márquez's account we observe Bolívar intimately, seeing his human qualities. In the view of critic Isabel Alvarez Borland, by choosing to fictionalize a national hero in this way, García Márquez is challenging the claim of official history to represent the truth.[49] In the "My Thanks" section of the novel, García Márquez asserts ironically that what he is writing is more historical than fictional, and he discusses his own historical methodology in detail. By posing in the role of a historian, he challenges the reliability of written history from within the writing process. [50] According to Alvarez Borland, this 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."[51]

The General in His Labyrinth also confronts the methods of official historians by using an oral style of narration. The narration can be considered an oral account in that it is woven from the verbal interactions of everyday people.[51] Alvarez Borland explains that the advantage of this technique, as discussed by Walter Ong, is that "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." [52] The oral style of narration therefore provides a truthfulness which official history lacks. Alvarez Borland concludes that The General in His Labyrinth suggests new ways of conceptualizing the past; it takes account of voices that were never written down as part of official history.[33]

Comparisons with other García Márquez novels

In an interview published in the Colombian weekly Revista Semana on March 20 1989, García Márquez told María Elvira Samper, "At bottom, I have written only one book, the same one that circles round and round, and continues on."[53] 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]

Like the Patriarch in García Márquez's The Autumn of the Patriarch, Bolívar was an absolute dictator.[1] Bolívar is only once referred to by name in this novel; similarly, the central character is left unnamed in The Autumn of the Patriarch.[54] Bolívar also invites comparison with Colonel Aureliano Buendía in One Hundred Years of Solitude: both characters believe the wars they have waged have been fruitless and overwhelming, and both face numerous attempts on their lives but eventually die of natural causes.[1] In his belief that life is controlled by fate, the General resembles not only Buendía in One Hundred Years of Solitude, but also 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 similar to that of The Autumn of the Patriarch. Love is a theme common to both 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 his empathetic flexibility.[1]

Isabel Alvarez 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 García Márquez's criticism of Latin America's official history seen in his earlier works, the novel contrasts sharply with his previous fictions."[55] In Chronicle of a Death Foretold according to Alvarez Borland, the 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."[55]

In a summary of Edward Hood's book La ficcion de Gabriel García Márquez: Repeticion e intertextualidad, García Márquez is characterized as an author who uses repetition and autointertexualidad extensively in his fiction, including in The General in His Labyrinth. Hood points out some obvious examples of repetition in García Márquez's works: the themes of solitude in One Hundred Years of Solitude, tyranny in Autumn of the Patriarch, and the desire for a unified continent expressed by Bolívar in The General in His Labyrinth.[56] Autointertexualidad refers to the intertextuality between works of a single author.[56] An example of this intertextuality can be seen in the repetition of certain episodes between books. For example, both Jose Arcadio Buendia in One Hundred Years of Solitude and Bolívar in The General in his Labyrinth experience labyrinthian dreams.[57]

Form and 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 in Santa Marta.

Critics consider García Márquez's book in terms of the historical novel, but equivocate over whether the label is appropriate. In his review of The General in his Labyrinth, Selden Rodman hesitated to call it a novel, since it was so heavily researched, quoting Bolívar's last thoughts on everything from life and love to his chronic constipation and dislike of tobacco smoke".[58] On the other hand, reviewer Robert Adams suggested that García Márquez had "improved on history".[59] According to critic 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: "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".[60] Shaw believes that this novel belongs to the first category.[60] García Márquez is presenting both a historical account and his own interpretation of events.[61]

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."[62] 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 does not necessarily distinguish it from the work of professional historians. The main difference, Bushnell believes, is that García Márquez's work "is far more readable" than a pure history.[63]

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 method of controlling their anger is the same.[53] 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".[53]

Reception

Critic Ilan Stavans observes that given the abundance of historical information and the specific time period, both which are unappealing to many in the English-speaking world, The General in His Labyrinth was relatively poorly received in the United States.[64] Isabel Alvarez Borland notes that while in Latin America the book received mixed reviews, ranging from "outrage to unqualified praise ... critics in the United States have largely celebrated García Márquez's portrait of this national hero and considered it a tour de force."[55]

In South America, the novel created controversy, as some Venezuelan and Colombian politicians believed it was profane.[64] 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".[64] The novel's publication provoked outrage from many Latin American politicians and intellectuals because its portrayal of the General is not the saintly image long cherished by many.[65] Mexico's ambassador to Austria, Francisco Cuevas Cancino, wrote a damning letter which was 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."[66] 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 to recognize and deal with its own "frustrating maze of problems."[65]

More positively, Nelson Bocaranda, a Venezuelan TV commentator, believed that the novel was a tonic for Latin American 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]".[66] García Márquez realistically portrays a ridiculous figure trapped in a labyrinth, magnifying the General's defects, and presenting an image of Bolívar contrary to that instilled in classrooms. However, from the novel, it is clear that Bolívar was an idealist and political theorist who predicted many problems that would obstruct Latin American advancement in the future. He 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.[67]

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 García Márquez's modulations in tone.[67] García Márquez himself has admitted that he likes his novels better in their English translations.[65]

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.[64]

Publication history

The original Spanish version of The General in His Labyrinth was published simultaneously in Argentina, Colombia, Mexico, and Spain in 1989.[68] The first American edition was listed as a best seller in The New York Times the following year.[68]

The novel has been translated into many languages since its first publication in Spanish as detailed by Sfeir de González.[69]

  • 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)

Notes

  1. ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n Palencia-Roth 1991
  2. ^ Gertel 1992, p. 25
  3. ^ Bell-Villada 2006, p. 170
  4. ^ a b García Márquez 1990, p. 271
  5. ^ Plimpton 2003, p. 160
  6. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 272
  7. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 274
  8. ^ Hasbrouck 1928, p. 19
  9. ^ Holling
  10. ^ Lynch 2006, p. 43
  11. ^ Lynch 2006, p. 259–279
  12. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 142
  13. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 4
  14. ^ Trend 1948
  15. ^ a b Trend 1948
  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. ^ ({Harvnb|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 Alvarez Borland 1993, p. 444 Cite error: The named reference "alvarezborland445" was defined multiple times with different content (see the help page).
  34. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 124
  35. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 223
  36. ^ Margaret Atwood 1990, p. 1
  37. ^ Cite error: The named reference Atwood was invoked but never defined (see the help page).
  38. ^ a b Danow 1997, p. 101
  39. ^ Danow 1997, p. 102
  40. ^ García Márquez 1990, p. 216
  41. ^ Danow 1997, p. 105
  42. ^ a b c Danow 1997, p. 106
  43. ^ "Parece que el demonio dirige las cosas de mi vida"
  44. ^ a b c d e Rodríguez Vergara
  45. ^ a b qtd. Rodríguez Vergara
  46. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 257
  47. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 258
  48. ^ a b Alonso 1994, p. 260
  49. ^ Alavarez Borland 1993, p. 440
  50. ^ Alvarez Borland 1993, pp. 440–41
  51. ^ a b Alvarez Borland 1993, p. 441
  52. ^ qtd. Alvarez Borland 1993, p. 441
  53. ^ a b c qtd. Palencia-Roth 1991
  54. ^ Pellón 2001, p. 214
  55. ^ a b c Alvarez Borland 1993, p. 439
  56. ^ a b McMurray 1995, p. 252
  57. ^ McMurray 1995, p. 253
  58. ^ Rodman 1990, p. 88
  59. ^ Adams 1990
  60. ^ a b Shaw 2002, p. 136
  61. ^ Shaw 2002, p. 138
  62. ^ Bushnell 1990, p. 200
  63. ^ Bushnell 1990, p. 201
  64. ^ a b c d Stavans 1993, p. 69
  65. ^ a b c Padgett 1990, p. 70
  66. ^ a b qtd. Padgett 1990, p. 70
  67. ^ a b Mujica 1991, p. 60
  68. ^ a b Sfeir de González 2003, p. xxiii
  69. ^ Sfeir de González 2003, pp. 49–50

References


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