I wept this morning upon reading that Gabriel Garcia Marquez has died. I cannot explain why except to say that this man’s writing and life captured many essential things for me. Throughout my life, in the Americas and now in Europe, he has travelled with me, living on my bookshelves and in my thoughts. A constant. They have carved a space in the world for old-fashioned things like play and dreaming. Unlike any other writer, for me, Gabo’s writing resonates with uncompromising truth and expresses the true rhythms of life and history in the Americas in its so-called ‘magical realist’ style. To me, it just seemed like reality.
Rest in peace, Gabo. I will visit you often among the shelves.