Joy of reading

For the holidays, I took a break from K-dramas to watch the screen adaptation of one of my favorite novels, Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude.”

It was enchanting to watch his characters come to life in an exquisite recreation of the fictional Colombian town of Macondo. The screen version was faithful to the novel, retaining the mystique of magic realism, and reminding me of one of its themes: the importance of the right leadership in building prosperous, peaceful communities.

For those unfamiliar with the novel, it’s about the Buendia family, starting with the eccentric Jose Arcadio and the love of his life, Ursula. They leave their hometown in search of the sea, followed by a band of mostly young adventurers drawn to Jose Arcadio’s idealism (or madness, depending on your outlook), only to find themselves going around in circles in a seemingly endless swamp.

If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Instead of giving in to despair, Jose Arcadio Buendia decides to carve out his home in the swamp, and calls it Macondo. The hardscrabble community develops and begins to prosper, with no formal government, tax system or religion, although Buendia is always looked upon as the leader. People simply looked out for each other.

Trouble starts later when Macondo’s much improved level of development draws the attention of the government, which sends a magistrate to run the town. Now on the national map, Macondo’s age of innocence is over. The town becomes another battleground for the Liberals (the rebellious Left) and Conservatives (the central government and the Church).

At this point, unfortunately for the town, Jose Arcadio descends into madness following the death of his dear friend Melquiades.

The emergence of a vain, selfish, homicidal Buendia scion as overseer seals the end of the idyllic life in Macondo. His onerous taxation and penchant for murder triggers his ouster through a popular revolt led by Ursula herself, who is restored as unofficial leader of Macondo.

As in many stories set in Latin America, Filipinos will find much in common with life in Macondo, including the communication with the dead, belief in premonitions and the supernatural.

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The Netflix adaptation is superb, but reading the novel provides a different pleasure that I hope will not be lost to the younger generations.

There’s a lot of talk about literature becoming a dying art in the age of TikTok. It would be unfortunate if this turns out to be true. The well-crafted written word, in any language, provides a kind of mental, emotional and sensual stimulation that audio-visual productions cannot provide.

Pitching the merits of literature, however, or even getting people to read beyond text messages can be challenging in a land where the average 15-year-old, as international assessment tests have shown, has problems with reading comprehension.

A love of reading, in any language or dialect, must be instilled among our youth, starting at an early age.

Because I enjoyed the novel so much, I read “One Hundred Years...” twice, as well as my other favorite by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, “Love in the Time of Cholera.”

I’ve read and re-read not only prize-winning novels and classics,  but also other stories that were so enjoyable they became movie blockbusters: J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy plus “The Hobbit” (I read them three times); Mario Puzo’s “The Godfather” series (read them twice); John LeCarre’s spy novels; the dystopian “The Hunger Games” and “Divergent” series.

Marquez, a Nobel laureate for Literature, was also a journalist. Well-written journalistic works also give me profound enjoyment. Reading American war correspondent Michael Herr’s “Dispatches” about the Vietnam War is as pleasurable as watching “Platoon” and “Full Metal Jacket.”

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Also disappearing with reading, sadly, is longhand writing.

As usual this Christmas, I have been receiving e-greeting cards that are readily available online. They are practical for connecting with friends overseas, but I like best the ones with personal messages included.

The ones I cherish most, however, are the greetings written in longhand, with the message composed thoughtfully before being put on paper.

I miss the mawkish Hallmark cards from my departed partner, which he gave me on every occasion along with roses. His handwritten declarations of affection, punctuated with humor, competed with the sappy Hallmark messages. I miss even the glitter usually painted on the cards.

My mother, who suffers from Alzheimer’s and can no longer enjoy reading novels and watching her favorite soap operas, was still moved to tears recently when she read aloud a message from my kid brother, written in longhand on a handmade card, greeting her on her 89th birthday.

The written word provides a unique delight, and it would be a shame if this would be lost to the younger generations who are addicted to short messaging and thoughts conveyed through emojis, abbreviated phrases and GIFs. (I confess though that I’ve also been sending holiday GIFs, mostly featuring ultra-cute animals.)

As memorable as the scenes from the screen adaptation of “One Hundred Years...” are the words strung together by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

There’s the new magistrate of Macondo, reaching out to the rebels, promising reforms and a return to the peaceful if not the traditional ways of the town. “No banner should be above human dignity. That’s why everyone in Macondo should have the same rights. The same opportunities,” he declares. “And the first step to making that a reality is to guarantee public education.”

And there’s Buendia matriarch Ursula in the final episode, talking with her husband who was tied to a chestnut tree in their courtyard: “You saw it coming, Jose Arcadio. You didn’t need a premonition to know that politics is a plague.”

Amen to that. Gabriel Garcia Marquez has enchanted millions of readers with such words since he wrote the novel way back in 1967.